#Chapter 127: Grief as Currency

DEREK Nonna Lucia’s smelled exactly the way I remembered it—like garlic, fresh bread, and something slow-simmered and sacred. The kind of smell that belonged to memory more than to food. Aiden was practically bouncing in the seat beside me, legs too short to sit still, eyes wide as he watched a server bring out a sizzling platter of meatballs to a nearby table. “Those smell amazing,” he whispered. “They’ll be here soon,” I said. “Best meatballs in three counties.” “You always say that.” “Because it’s true.” Elena chuckled across the table, folding her napkin into her lap. She looked beautiful in the soft light, her hair up in a loose knot, wearing a navy dress with sleeves that slipped slightly off her shoulders every time she shifted. Casual, but polished. A version of her I hadn’t ever taken the time to see. Hadn’t been able to see past my own prejudice. This was the first time the three of us had gone out when Elena wasn’t just there as Aiden’s mom. This was a… a