She opened the door without hesitation and pulled me inside the moment she saw my face. No questions. Just silence and her arms around me until my shaking slowed.
“Bianca…” My voice cracked before I could finish.
She guided me to the couch. Mason, her little boy, clung to her skirt before walking over and placing his tiny hand on my knee.
“Auntie Aria?” he asked softly.
“I’m okay, sweetheart,” I lied, even though my voice betrayed me.
Bianca had been with me through everything—college nights, arguments with my father, even the early days of my marriage when I still thought Matteo and I could fix things. Over time, she became more like family than a friend. I loved Mason like my own child, especially after his father left them behind.
She gently wiped my tears. “Tell me what happened.”
So I did.
And she listened. Quiet. Focused. Calm.
But sometimes the people closest to you are the ones you trust the most.
One day, I left work early. I wanted to surprise her, maybe stay over like we used to. Her door wasn’t locked, so I walked in quietly, expecting nothing more than a normal afternoon.
Then I heard voices.
I stopped.