Chapter 40: The Choice of the Heart

Elena Vitiello POV

The helicopter disappeared into the horizon.

And somehow the silence it left behind felt louder than the rotors ever had.

I stood there long after everyone else returned inside.

Watching empty sky.

Thinking about impossible things.

Thinking about Dante.

Thinking about us.

Three months later...

New York looked different.

Or maybe I did.

The city was still loud.

Still crowded.

Still alive.

But it no longer felt like a prison.

For the first time in years...

I belonged to myself.

My mother had moved into a townhouse two blocks from my apartment.

We spent weekends together.

Shared dinners.

Made up for lost time.

Not perfectly.

Not instantly.

But slowly.

One memory at a time.

One conversation at a time.

One day at a time.

Healing wasn't dramatic.

It was ordinary.

And that made it beautiful.

"You're thinking about him again."

I looked up from my coffee.

"Mom."

"I'm right."

"Unfortunately."

She smiled knowingly.

"Have you heard anything?"

"A little."

"And?"

"The hearings are ongoing."

"Most charges were reduced after the evidence he provided."

"The organization is being dismantled."

"Legally."

"Slowly."

"Painfully."

"Good."

"That's exactly what he said."

Of course it was.

Dante always believed consequences should hurt.

Especially his own.

"He never contacted you?"

"No."

"Not once?"

"No."

"Interesting."

"Why?"

"Because he wants to."

"Mom."

"What?"

"Stop being observant."

"Impossible."

I rolled my eyes.

She laughed.

Then her expression softened.

"You still love him."

The statement wasn't a question.

And that was the problem.

Because I didn't know how to answer it.

"Maybe."

"Elena."

"Fine."

I looked down into my coffee.

"Yes."

"I still love him."

The words felt terrifying.

And freeing.

Both at once.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"Trust."

"Fair."

"Time."

"Also fair."

"Proof."

"Reasonable."

"A miracle."

"Less reasonable."

I laughed despite myself.

Then my phone rang.

Unknown number.

"Answer it."

"Why?"

"Because this is a romance novel and the timing feels suspicious."

"Mom."

"Answer it."

Still smiling, I accepted the call.

"Hello?"

Silence.

Then...

"Hi."

My heart stopped.

Because I knew that voice.

"Dante."

"Hi."

"That's all you have?"

"I've rehearsed this conversation forty-seven times."

"And?"

"Turns out I only prepared for the hello part."

I laughed.

Actually laughed.

Across the table my mother looked incredibly pleased with herself.

"What do you want?" I asked softly.

"A chance."

Silence.

"That's a big request."

"I know."

"You don't deserve it."

"I know."

"You're making this difficult."

"Sorry."

"No you're not."

"A little."

The familiar rhythm settled between us instantly.

Comfortable.

Dangerous.

Familiar.

"Where are you?"

"Outside."

"Outside where?"

"Your building."

I froze.

"What?"

"I've been here twenty minutes."

"That's creepy."

"I know."

"Very creepy."

"I know."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to see you."

My heart betrayed me immediately.

"Dante—"

"You don't have to come down."

"You don't have to talk to me."

"You don't have to forgive me."

"You don't have to choose me."

"Then why are you here?"

The answer came instantly.

Without hesitation.

"Because for the first time in my life..."

"I wanted something more than power."

"More than control."

"More than winning."

"I wanted you."

Tears immediately filled my eyes.

"That's not fair."

"I know."

"Stop saying that."

"Trying."

"Poorly."

"Very."

I closed my eyes.

Breathing.

Thinking.

Feeling.

Everything at once.

"Elena."

"What?"

"If the answer is no..."

"I'll leave."

"If the answer is never..."

"I'll accept it."

"If the answer is maybe..."

"I'll wait."

"For how long?"

Silence.

Then...

"Three years felt short compared to a lifetime."

"So as long as it takes."

My mother quietly stood.

Picked up her purse.

And headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Giving destiny some privacy."

"Mom!"

"Love you!"

The door closed behind her.

Traitor.

Complete traitor.

The phone remained silent for several seconds.

"Elena?"

"Yes?"

"What's the answer?"

I walked toward the window.

Looked down.

And there he was.

Standing on the sidewalk.

Hands in his pockets.

Looking up.

Not like a king.

Not like a mafia boss.

Not like The Reaper.

Just a man.

Waiting.

For me.

For the first time ever.

My choice.

Not his.

Mine.

Slowly...

I smiled.

"Maybe," I whispered.

Below, Dante smiled too.

The biggest smile I'd ever seen on his face.

"Maybe," he repeated.

"Maybe."

And for the first time...

Maybe was enough.

THE END