Chapter 32: Struggling with the Light

Antonio stared out of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse, the city lights flickering below him like a thousand little stars. His mind, however, was far from the view. It was consumed by something far more unsettling, something he couldn’t shake no matter how much he tried to focus on the business dealings at hand.

The image of Luca’s face kept invading his thoughts—the way his son’s eyes would light up when Isabella entered the room, the way Luca now sought her out first, asking for her when he was upset or hungry, the way he cuddled up to her at night instead of crawling into his father’s bed. Antonio felt it in his gut like a slow burn, a gnawing sensation that he couldn’t control.

He wasn’t the center of Luca’s world anymore.

The realization hit him harder than he expected. The fierce love and possessiveness he had always felt for Luca had always been his armor, his anchor. But now, Isabella’s presence seemed to be slowly eroding that bond, and it made him feel…weak. Vulnerable. As if he was being slowly replaced by the woman who had been forced into his life and had no other choice but to step into the role of mother.

His fists clenched at the thought, the conflict within him intensifying.

Why is this bothering me so much? he wondered. She’s just a...a temporary part of this arrangement, isn't she? She doesn’t belong here.

But the truth was harder to admit.

Isabella had become more than just his wife—she was becoming a part of Luca’s life, a mother figure. And that terrified him. He could feel it in the way she smiled at Luca when he told her about his day, the way she tenderly kissed him goodnight, the way she would make him laugh, bringing that bright innocence into their otherwise dark and cold home.

In some ways, Isabella had been exactly what Luca needed—a source of warmth, kindness, and unconditional love. But in other ways, she had come to symbolize everything Antonio had once longed for but now doubted he would ever find again.

With his ex-wife, Valentina, it had always been about appearances, control, and status. Love was never part of the equation. But here, in this strange, forced marriage, he was beginning to witness something he hadn’t thought possible—genuine affection. Between Isabella and Luca. Between Isabella and himself, in the rare moments their eyes met with a flicker of understanding. It made him uneasy, unsure of where this would lead.

The door to his office creaked open, and his thoughts were interrupted by Isabella’s soft voice.

“Antonio?” she said, her tone tentative, as though sensing the change in the air.

Antonio turned his head slightly, his expression hardening as he met her gaze. She stood at the doorway, wearing a simple white blouse and jeans, her hair loosely pulled back. The soft glow from the lamp behind her caught her face, making her look ethereal, like an angel caught in the cruel grip of his world.

Isabella shifted slightly, her lips parting as if she were about to speak again, but then she hesitated. The tension in the room hung thick, both of them dancing around unspoken words.

“What do you need?” Antonio’s voice was cold, a far cry from the warmth he had tried to show her before. He immediately regretted it, but he couldn't help himself. His emotions were a tangled mess of fear, jealousy, and a strange ache he couldn’t explain.

Isabella stepped forward carefully, holding herself with an air of caution. She had grown accustomed to the way he shifted between the distant, unapproachable Antonio and the softer, almost vulnerable version of him he had been with her on rare occasions. But tonight, she didn’t know which version to expect.

“I was just wondering if you needed anything,” she said quietly. “Luca’s asleep, and I made some tea. I thought you might want some after everything today.”

Antonio’s mind was reeling. Her presence alone seemed to calm him in ways he couldn’t understand, but the jealousy bubbling inside him was growing unbearable. His gaze flicked to the hallway, imagining Luca’s small face, his innocent eyes reaching out to Isabella for comfort.

Does he prefer her over me now? Antonio thought bitterly. Am I being replaced?

He stood up abruptly, causing her to flinch slightly. “I don’t need anything,” he said, his voice hard again. “I’m fine.”

Isabella’s eyes narrowed in concern, but she didn’t push. She simply nodded, placing the tray of tea on the nearby desk.

“Antonio…” she said softly, almost cautiously. “I know this isn’t easy. For either of us. But I want you to know that I’m here for you. And Luca. I’m trying…to understand how all of this works.”

Antonio turned away, his back facing her as he gazed out at the city again, though his mind was far from the view. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t need her to “understand.” He wanted to tell her that he didn’t need her at all.

But the words stuck in his throat, and instead, he muttered, “It’s not that simple.”

“I know,” Isabella replied quietly. “I just… I want to try.”

Her voice was calm, reassuring. But it was those words—*I want to try*—that struck him the hardest. There was a softness in her voice, something he hadn’t heard from her before, something that tugged at his heart despite all his efforts to push it away.

He didn’t look at her, didn’t let his guard down, but his mind was consumed with the thought of her, of Luca, of this family that was forming whether he liked it or not.

And that was the problem.

Antonio was used to being the one in control, the one who called the shots. Yet here he was, standing in his own home, feeling completely powerless. His son was turning to Isabella more than him, and as much as he tried to fight it, it stung.

In the back of his mind, something deeper stirred. Maybe it was fear. Or maybe it was something else. Something unfamiliar.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Antonio’s voice was quiet, almost vulnerable as he looked at her for the first time since she entered. He wasn’t looking for answers, not really. He just needed to say the words out loud. “Why do you keep trying to make this work, when you know I’m not the man you think I am?”

Isabella stepped forward, her eyes softening as she met his gaze. “Because, Antonio,” she said gently, “I see the man you could be. The man you want to be. And I’m willing to fight for it… for you.”

Her words pierced through him like a dagger, leaving him breathless. He wasn’t used to this kind of kindness, this kind of trust. His entire life had been filled with betrayal and manipulation. He had learned to shut himself off from the possibility of love, convinced that no one could truly love someone like him. Yet here she was, giving him something he couldn’t understand, but desperately needed.

For a moment, silence hung between them, the weight of his unspoken fears and her quiet determination filling the space.

“I don’t deserve it,” Antonio muttered, almost to himself.

“Maybe not,” Isabella said softly, her voice unwavering. “But I believe in you, Antonio. And maybe you need to believe in yourself too.”

He turned his back to her once more, fighting the urge to let the walls come down. His emotions were raw, exposed, and he didn’t know how to handle it. His hands clenched into fists, and he could feel his chest tightening with the weight of everything.

Isabella stood in silence for a long moment, before speaking again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said firmly. “I’m here. For you and for Luca. Whether you like it or not.”

Antonio didn’t respond. Instead, he let out a long, slow breath, his body aching with a tension he couldn’t shake. He wasn’t sure what this was—what she was offering. But it was more than he had ever had, and it both terrified and comforted him.

In the quiet that followed, he knew one thing for sure.

He wasn’t the only one struggling with the light.