Chapter 15 Sara

I didn’t sleep. Not really. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind spun in circles, Salvatore’s face when he saw Gabe, the way he held him, the way Gabe leaned into him like he’d been waiting his whole life for that moment. And then the other part of it.

He wants to talk.

Those four words kept echoing in my head. What did he want? What was he thinking? What did this mean for Gabe… for us?

I wanted them to have a relationship. Gabe deserved that. He deserved a father who showed up, who cared, who stayed. But I wouldn’t let anyone take him from me. Not even Salvatore.

If Salvatore ever started seeing someone else, I needed to meet her first. I needed to know she was safe, kind, stable. And I’d expect the same if I ever dated again. Not that I wanted anyone else. Not when the only man I’d ever loved was suddenly back in my life.

By the time the sun rose, I gave up on sleep and made coffee. I sat at the table, hands wrapped around the mug, staring at nothing. Gabe, on the other hand, was practically glowing. He ate his breakfast like he was fueling up for the best day of his life, bouncing in his chair, swinging his feet, checking the window every thirty seconds.

“Mama,” he said through a mouthful of toast, “do you think he’ll like my school?”

“I’m sure he will.”

“And my teacher?”

“She’s wonderful.”

“And my backpack?”

I smiled. “Your backpack is perfect.”

He grinned, satisfied. A knock sounded at the door, and Gabe nearly fell out of his chair trying to get to it. I followed slower, heart thudding. Gabe flung the door open. “Dad!”

Salvatore stood there, looking unfairly good for someone who probably didn’t sleep either. He smiled at Gabe, then at me, softer, warmer.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

Gabe grabbed his backpack and practically launched himself out the door. The school drop‑off was… surreal. Gabe held Salvatore’s hand the whole way to the office, proudly introducing him to the secretary like he’d been waiting years to do it.

“This is my dad,” he said, chin lifted.

The woman smiled. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Vega.”

Salvatore didn’t correct her. He just squeezed Gabe’s shoulder.

“I’d like to be added to his contact list,” he said. “And approved for pickup and drop‑off.”

My breath caught. He glanced at me, checking, asking without asking. I nodded.

We filled out the forms together. His handwriting was neat, confident. Mine shook a little. When Gabe hugged him goodbye, Salvatore knelt and whispered something I couldn’t hear. Gabe nodded seriously, then ran off to class. And then it was just us. The drive back to my house was quiet, but not uncomfortable. When he parked, he turned to me.

“Let’s talk.”

I nodded and led him inside. We sat at the kitchen table, the same place I’d sat hours earlier, worrying myself sick.

“I want you and Gabe to have a relationship,” I said before he could start. “He deserves that. But I’m in charge of his care. I’ve raised him alone. And if you ever try to take him from me, I will fight you.”

His jaw tightened, not in anger, but in something like pain.

“Sara,” he said quietly, “I would never take Gabe from you. Never. I’m not here to replace you. I’m here to be what I should’ve been all along.” I swallowed hard. “I plan to win you both over,” he continued. “Not force anything. Not rush anything. Just… be here. Help. Support you.”

My eyes stung.

“And that starts with Maria,” he added. “I’m getting her the best doctors. The best nurses. Whatever you need, you’ll have.”

I covered my mouth with my hand, overwhelmed. “Salvatore…”

“This isn’t charity,” he said. “This is family.”

Our first real conversation in eight years ended with something I didn’t expect, peace. Understanding. A fragile kind of hope.

He stood to leave. “I’ll pick Gabe up from school. And drop him off tomorrow morning.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

He gave me one last look, soft, steady, then left. For the first time in years, I let myself breathe. Two hours later, a knock sounded at the door. I thought it was Salvatore coming back early. I opened it with a smile. But the woman on the porch wasn’t him. She wore a badge. Held a clipboard. And her expression was polite but cold.

“Good morning,” she said. “I’m with Child Protective Services. We received a complaint and need to conduct an investigation.”

My blood turned to ice. Everything inside me went still. And I knew...I shouldn't have trusted him so fast.