Chapter 6 Sara

My hands were still shaking when I walked back toward the bar. Not because of Salvatore. Never because of him. But because of the look in his eyes. Shock. Hurt. Something I didn’t have a name for.

And underneath all of it…the fear that once he found out about Gabe, he’d never forgive me.

He deserved to know. He needed to know. But the thought of him looking at our son and seeing betrayal instead of love made my stomach twist. I slipped behind the bar, forcing my breathing to steady.

Marco took one look at me and gasped dramatically. “Girl. What happened? You look like you saw a ghost. Or worse, Rick shirtless.”

I huffed out a laugh I didn’t feel. “I’m fine.”

“You are not fine,” he said, leaning in. “You were gone forever. Did the boss chew you out? Did he flirt? Did he fire you? Did he...”

“Marco,” I cut in, “please.”

He blinked, then softened. “Okay. But you’re telling me eventually.”

I nodded, grateful for him in a way I couldn’t explain.

The night dragged on, loud and bright and exhausting. I poured drinks, wiped counters, smiled when I had to. But my mind kept drifting back to Salvatore, the shock on his face, the way he said my name like it hurt.

Eight years. Eight years of running. Eight years of praying he’d never find out why. Hector would’ve killed him. I knew that with every bone in my body. Leaving had been the only way to save him. But now? Now everything was unraveling. A few hours later, Rick came strutting over, clipboard in hand.

“Sara,” he said, “boss wants you in his office after closing. Don’t clock out.”

My heart dropped straight to the floor. Marco’s eyes went wide. Then he grinned like Christmas came early. “Ooooh. Someone’s in trouble. Or someone’s getting promoted. Or someone’s getting....”

“Marco,” I hissed.

He wiggled his eyebrows. “You and the boss, huh?”

“It’s not like that,” I said quickly. “We just… knew each other. In college.”

Marco gasped. “College? Oh, this is juicy. Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

There was everything to tell. But not to him. Not yet. Maybe not ever. As the last customers filtered out and the lights dimmed, my chest tightened. My palms were sweating. My heart wouldn’t slow down. I wiped down the bar one last time, hung up my apron, and tried to breathe. I had to face him. I had to tell him the truth. I had to tell him about Gabe. Even if it destroyed whatever was left between us.

Marco squeezed my hand. “You got this, chica.”

I nodded, even though I didn’t believe it. Then I turned toward the hallway. Toward Salvatore’s office. Toward the man I never stopped loving…and the truth that could break us both.

The hallway felt longer tonight. Narrower. Like the walls were closing in with every step I took toward his office.

I kept telling myself I wasn’t scared of him. And I wasn’t. I was scared of what he’d think of me. Of Gabe. Of the truth I’d buried for eight long years.

I stopped outside the door, wiped my palms on my jeans, and forced myself to knock.

“Come in,” he said, voice low and unreadable.

I pushed the door open. Salvatore sat behind his desk, shoulders tense, jaw tight, eyes cold in a way I’d never seen before. The warmth I remembered, the boy I loved, was gone. This man was harder. Sharper. Built from steel and sleepless nights.

He didn’t stand. Didn’t smile. Didn’t soften. Just stared at me like I was a problem he needed to solve.

“Close the door,” he said. I did. “Why are you in my club, Sara?”

His club. Of course it was. I swallowed. “I didn’t know it was yours.”

He didn’t blink. “That’s not what I asked.”

My throat tightened. “I need this job.”

His jaw flexed, something dark flickering in his eyes. “You could’ve gone anywhere.”

“No,” I whispered. “I couldn’t.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying me like he was trying to see through every lie I’d ever told.

“You walk into my office after eight years,” he said quietly, “and expect me to believe this is coincidence?”

“I didn’t know,” I said again, voice cracking. “I swear, Salvatore. I didn’t know.”

Silence stretched between us, thick, heavy, suffocating.

He stood slowly, coming around the desk until he was only a few feet away. Close enough that I could feel the heat of him. Close enough that my heart stuttered. His voice dropped to something rough and dangerous.

“Then tell me something I don’t know.”

I lifted my eyes to his, and the hurt there nearly knocked me off my feet.

“Why did you leave, Sara?”

The question hit like a blade, because Hector would’ve killed you. Because I was pregnant and terrified. Because loving you meant losing you. But the words tangled in my throat. He took one step closer.

“Why,” he repeated, “did you disappear on me?” And that’s where everything inside me finally broke.