Chapter 13 - “Bambina Mia”
Three weeks later, Octavio walked into Iron & Iris at closing time.
Nomi looked up.
“No.”
He stopped.
“I haven’t said anything.”
“You’re wearing that suit.”
“What suit?”
“The one that means you’re about to make a dramatic proposal that is not technically a proposal.”
He looked down at himself.
“It’s black.”
“You own forty black suits. This one is persuasive.”
“I’m concerned that you can differentiate them.”
“I told you. Patterns.”
Octavio placed a paper bag on the counter.
Nomi peeked inside.
Coffee.
Her terrible convenience-store coffee.
Not expensive Italian coffee.
Not something imported.
Hers.
She smiled.
“What do you want?”
“Dinner.”
“I already ate.”
“Dessert.”
“I’m working.”
“You closed.”
“Stalking my hours?”
“They’re printed on the door.”
“Acceptable answer.”
He waited.
Nomi liked that he waited now.
He did not assume.
Did not command.
He asked.
Sometimes badly.
But he asked.
“Where?” she said.
“Rooftop.”
Her heart shifted.
“The rooftop?”
“Yes.”
They returned to the place where everything began.
No helicopter.
Nomi had specifically banned helicopters.
There were two folding chairs, a thermos, and the Chicago skyline.
“You planned this?”
“I attempted simplicity.”
“It’s disturbing.”
“I can order thirty security vehicles if it makes you comfortable.”
“Sit down.”
He obeyed.
Progress.
For half an hour, they talked about ordinary things.
Marco was cooperating with investigators and undergoing the slow, uncomfortable process of rebuilding a relationship with Nomi.
Valentina and Axel had moved into a small apartment despite the Ki family owning several empty properties.
Octavio had offered one.
Valentina had declined.
He accepted that.
Progress.
Vincent had formally admitted his role.
Octavio visited him once.
No forgiveness.
Not yet.
Maybe never.
But hatred no longer controlled the room.
Nomi finished her coffee.
“Why do you call me that?”
Octavio knew immediately.
“Bambina mia?”
“Yes.”
“It bothers you.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then?”
“I want to know.”
He looked toward the skyline.
“My mother called people that.”
“Everyone?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“Valentina.”
“That makes it weird.”
Octavio gave her a look.
Nomi laughed.
“Continue.”
“She used it affectionately. Not literally. My little one. My dear.”
“You called me that after knowing me for six hours.”
“I had technically known you three years.”
“You ignored me three years.”
“I’m never winning that argument.”
“No.”
He smiled.
Then became serious.
“I said it because you were standing in front of me covered in charcoal, furious, five-foot-five—”
“Correct.”
“—and somehow speaking to me as though I were the one who needed protecting from my own stupidity.”
“You did.”
“I know.”
He looked at her.
“It reminded me of how my mother spoke to people she loved enough to challenge.”
Nomi’s expression softened.
“Loved?”
Octavio became very still.
There it was.
The dangerous word.
Nomi did not rescue him from it.
“You caught that.”
“I observe.”
“Of course.”
He stood.
Walked toward the edge.
Nomi followed.
“Octavio.”
He turned.
“I don’t know how to do this lightly.”
“Do what?”
“You.”
Nomi’s breath caught.
“That was almost romantic.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
He continued.
“My relationships have always had conditions. Loyalty. Family. Security. Obligation.”
“And this?”
“You owe me nothing.”
Nomi’s chest tightened.
“That terrifies you.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He frowned.
She stepped closer.
“It should.”
“Why?”
“Because if I stay, you’ll know it’s because I choose you.”
Octavio stared.
Nomi touched his lapel.
“And if you stay, I need the same.”
“No ownership.”
“No.”
“No deciding where I work.”
“No.”
“No deciding who I see.”
His jaw tightened.
“Within reasonable—”
Nomi raised an eyebrow.
He stopped.
“No deciding.”
“Better.”
“I can express concern.”
“Yes.”
“Strong concern.”
“Yes.”
“Extremely detailed concern.”
“Octavio.”
“Fine.”
Nomi smiled.
He touched her waist.
Carefully.
“Can I kiss you?”
The question nearly undid her.
Not because of the kiss.
Because a man who once landed a helicopter without permission now asked before touching her.
“Yes.”
This kiss was different from the freight terminal.
No fear.
No adrenaline.
No countdown.
Nomi placed both hands against his chest.
Octavio held her gently.
Fireworks did not explode.
No dramatic music existed.
Chicago simply glowed.
When they separated, Nomi whispered:
“You know what annoys me?”
“Many things.”
“You’re learning.”
His forehead rested against hers.
“Bambina mia.”
She smiled.
“I decided.”
“What?”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
His expression softened.
“But.”
“There’s always a but.”
“You use it only when you mean it.”
“I always mean it.”
“That was dangerously smooth.”
“I practiced.”
“With who?”
“Daniel.”
Nomi burst out laughing.
“You practiced romance with Daniel?”
“He was unhelpful.”
“I need details.”
“Never.”
She laughed harder.
Octavio watched her.
This time, when he smiled, nothing in him resisted it.
Then Nomi noticed a figure near the rooftop access door.
She stiffened.
Octavio turned.
Marco stood there.
He lifted both hands.
“I can leave.”
Nomi sighed.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“At midnight?”
“I’m still adjusting to normal family behavior.”
Octavio said, “Apparently everyone in her life is.”
Nomi looked between the two men.
Her father.
The man she might love.
Two people connected by years of choices she had never made.
For once, she did not feel trapped between them.
She felt surrounded by possibilities.
Marco approached.
“I have something for you.”
He handed her an envelope.
Inside was the deed to a small storefront.
Nomi frowned.
“What is this?”
“Your mother bought it before she died.”
“Why?”
“She wanted you to have a studio one day.”
Nomi stared at the address.
Two blocks from Iron & Iris.
Marco smiled sadly.
“She believed you’d outgrow whatever space you started in.”
Nomi’s eyes filled.
“I don’t want money.”
“It isn’t from me.”
“I know.”
“It’s from her.”
Nomi held the paper against her chest.
Octavio quietly stepped away.
Giving father and daughter room.
Nomi noticed.
Of course she did.
She always noticed.
And that night she understood something.
Being seen was not the same as being watched.
Watching was about possession.
Seeing was about understanding when to stay.
May you like
And when to step back.
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