Chapter 13
Raffaele sold the Lake Forest house before they ever moved into it.
Sofia was furious when she learned.
“You made another decision without me.”
“I thought you didn’t want it anymore.”
“I don’t.”
“Then—”
“That is not the point.”
He stopped.
The old instinct had returned.
Solve the problem.
Remove the object.
Make the decision.
Sofia saw it instantly.
Raffaele called the broker back before the sale finalized.
He withdrew the acceptance.
Then he went to Sofia’s apartment.
“I did it again.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
She looked suspicious.
“What did you do?”
“Stopped the sale.”
Sofia blinked.
“You want the house?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because we choose what happens to it together.”
That was better.
Not romantic.
Better.
They eventually sold it anyway.
Together.
Sofia did not want the family estate.
Raffaele no longer did either.
They bought nothing immediately.
Instead, they rented a house for one year.
Normal by Raffaele’s standards.
Only six bedrooms.
Sofia mocked him for calling it small.
The location was neutral.
Not near the estate.
Not near Delia.
Not chosen because of family business.
Sofia selected the kitchen.
Raffaele selected the security layout.
They argued about both.
Those arguments were healthier than their old silence.
Greta chose to remain at the original estate under the new professional manager.
Sofia worried leaving her meant abandonment.
Greta laughed.
“I am fifty-four years old. I am not a family heirloom.”
Sofia smiled.
Greta continued.
“I like my job. I like the staff.”
Then she pointed at Raffaele.
“And he finally gave us a way to tell somebody when his relatives act insane.”
Raffaele almost objected to the wording.
Sofia laughed before he could.
The new house used a smaller staff.
Every employee had written job descriptions.
Nobody served family guests outside their role.
Nobody accepted instructions from visiting relatives.
Sofia insisted on one other rule.
No council meetings at home.
Raffaele agreed.
The first time a capo arrived unexpectedly with business documents, Sofia answered the door.
“Office.”
The man looked at Raffaele.
Raffaele nodded.
“Office.”
The capo left.
Sofia closed the door.
“You survived.”
“Barely.”
She smiled.
Small things.
That was how the marriage began rebuilding.
May you like
Not with declarations.
With doors that finally worked both ways.
