005

SCARLETT

“What did you call me?”

His eyebrows pulled together. "Scarlett."

My breathing became shallow.

How did he know my name?

Raffaele looked confused by my reaction. "Is that not your name?"

"How do you know my name?"

He stared at me for a second, then pointed at the front of my car.

My eyes followed his finger.

There was a temporary parking pass resting against the dashboard with my name printed on it.

I closed my eyes. "Right."

Raffaele tried not to smile but he failed. "You've had a difficult morning."

I didn't answer. My hand moved toward my stomach.

The second my palm touched it, my entire body froze.

The memory returned without warning.

Matteo standing in front of me.

The knife in his hand.

The first stab.

The pain.

My scream.

Then the words.

‘I'm pregnant.’

His child.

My baby.

My breath caught as my fingers pressed harder against my stomach.

My baby.

The thought shattered something inside me.

I bent forward. A sob escaped me.

"Hey." Raffaele's voice immediately changed.

But I couldn't stop.

My other hand covered my mouth as tears poured down my face. "My baby."

Raffaele went silent.

I shook my head violently. "My baby." My body curled forward. "No."

The memories came rushing back.

The pain.

The blood.

The helplessness.

The desperate need to protect something that was already gone.

"No, no, no."

"Scarlett."

"My baby." I began crying harder.

Raffaele immediately opened the driver's door.

I barely noticed.

One moment he was standing outside, and the next he was kneeling beside me. "Hey. Hey, look at me."

I shook my head. "My baby."

"Scarlett."

"No." My hands clutched my stomach. "I told him." My words were coming out between sobs. "I told him I was pregnant."

Raffaele went completely still.

"I told him." I could barely breathe. "I was going to tell him. I found out that day. I was so happy."

"Scarlett."

"He didn't believe me." I started crying harder. "He laughed."

His face changed. I couldn't see exactly what was in his eyes through my tears, but his entire body seemed to tense.

"He said I was lying."

People had started gathering nearby.

I could hear voices.

Someone asking if I was hurt.

Someone talking about calling the police.

Someone else commenting on the accident.

I didn't care.

Let them stare.

Let them talk.

Nothing happening around me mattered.

I was still stuck in that room.

Still dying.

Still looking at Matteo.

"Scarlett." Raffaele's voice cut through the noise.

I looked at him.

His expression was calm but there was something reassuring about it. "You need to breathe."

I tried. My lungs refused to cooperate.

"Slowly."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"I can't."

"You can." His voice remained firm.

I hated how annoyingly confident he sounded.

"Take a breath."

I shook my head.

"Scarlett."

I looked at him.

"One." He raised a finger. "Just one breath."

I inhaled shakily.

The breath broke halfway through but I tried again.

Raffaele nodded. "Good."

I wiped my face. I felt exhausted, completely exhausted. "I want to go home." The words came out quietly.

Raffaele looked at me for a moment. "Then I'll take you home."

I immediately shook my head. "No."

"Why?"

"I don't know you."

"You recognized me five minutes ago."

I stared at him.

His eyebrows rose.

"Convenient." I expected him to leave it there. He didn't.

"But you're not driving anywhere."

I frowned. "I can drive."

"You just drove directly into my car while crying."

"I didn't do it on purpose."

"That makes it worse."

I glared at him but he only smiled. "There. That's better."

"What?"

"You're angry now. Much healthier than whatever was happening five minutes ago."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Are you always this annoying?"

"Only when necessary."

"You're annoying right now."

"Exactly."

I looked away. "I'll call Adrian."

"Who is Adrian?"

"My secretary."

"Good."

I reached for my phone. Then remembered I had turned it off.

My fingers froze around it. What if Matteo keeps calling?

Raffaele noticed. "Problem?"

"No."

I put the phone down. "I don't want to call anyone."

"Then let me drive you."

"No."

"Scarlett."

I looked at him.

He leaned against the open door. "Your car is not moving."

"I'll get someone."

"Eventually."

"Yes."

"And until eventually happens?"

"I'll sit here."

"All day?"

"If I have to."

He studied me. Then sighed. "You are very difficult."

I gave him a weak look. "And to think you only met me on a very good morning. You don't even know me."

"I've known you for approximately ten minutes."

"Exactly."

"And somehow I'm already certain you're difficult."

I should have argued. Instead, I found myself too tired.

Raffaele looked toward the growing crowd. Then back at me. "I'll get your car taken care of."

My eyes narrowed. "You don't have to."

"I know."

"I'll pay for the damage."

"You can try."

"Try?"

He smiled. "You'll find me surprisingly difficult to invoice."

I stared at him.

He held out his hand. "Come on."

I looked at his hand. "I don't know you."

"You've mentioned that."

"And you're a stranger."

"Also true."

"And I shouldn't get into a stranger's car."

Raffaele nodded seriously. "Very responsible."

I crossed my arms. "Thank you."

"But considering the stranger is the man whose car you just destroyed, I feel we're past the traditional safety protocols."

I stared at him.

His lips twitched. "Come on, Scarlett."

For some reason, I trusted him.

Maybe it was because I already knew who he was.

Maybe it was because I remembered the future.

Or maybe I was simply too emotionally exhausted to keep fighting.

I slowly got out of the car. My legs felt weak.

Raffaele immediately moved closer, ready to steady me.

"I can walk." I said, feeling a little bit insecure about my chubby body. I really don't want him close to all the fat.

"I didn't say you couldn't."

"Then don't look at me like I'm going to collapse."

“Fine.” He walked beside me toward his car.

It was sleek, expensive and far too clean for someone who had just been involved in an accident.

Of course Raffaele drove something like that.

He opened the passenger door and I hesitated.

Raffaele looked at me. "Your house."

I nodded slowly.

"Just tell me where to go."

I got in.

He closed the door and walked around to the driver's side.

A few minutes later, we were on the road.

The silence inside the car was different.

Not uncomfortable. Just heavy.

Raffaele drove without asking questions.

He didn't ask why I had recognized him.

He didn't ask who I had been talking about.

He didn't ask what had happened to my baby.

He simply drove.

I stared out the window.

Then I started crying again. Quietly at first.

A few tears.

Then my shoulders began shaking.

I covered my face with my hands.

"I'm sorry."

Raffaele didn't look at me. "For what?"

"This."

I gestured vaguely at myself. "The crying. The accident. Everything." I sniffed. I let out a broken laugh through my tears. “I'm so stupid.”

Raffaele glanced at me briefly, then looked back at the road.

And after that, he didn't say anything else.

He didn't tell me to calm down.

He didn't ask me to stop.

He didn't demand answers.

He simply let me cry.

So I did.

I cried for Valentina.

For the baby I remembered losing.

For the marriage that had destroyed me.

For the man who had once been everything to me and had eventually become the reason I remembered dying.

I cried because somehow I had been given another chance, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do with it.

Beside me, Raffaele remained silent.

The road stretched ahead of us. He was driving randomly, waiting for directions.

“I don't want to go home anymore.”