Chapter 11 - A Chance Without Promises
“How did you find this place?”
He glanced at the sign.
“It’s listed publicly.
I read about the opening in a local newspaper.”
Then he looked back at me.
“I wanted to see what you built.”
I studied his face.
“Why?”
Roman seemed to consider the question carefully.
“Because I hoped the money I returned helped you make something better than what I once controlled.”
I folded my arms.
“We made it ourselves.”
He nodded.
“Yes.
You did.”
There was no argument.
No attempt to claim credit.
Just acknowledgment.
I found myself smiling.
Only a little.
Behind me, a familiar voice called out.
“Tess?”
Leo rolled into the reception area.
He stopped when he saw Roman.
For one second, his expression was unreadable.
Then he smiled.
“Boss.”
Roman laughed softly.
“I thought we agreed on Roman.”
Leo shrugged.
“Old… habit.”
Roman approached him.
“How are you?”
“Good.”
Leo pointed toward the workshop room.
“Teaching.”
“I heard.”
Leo looked pleased.
Then he glanced between us.
Something mischievous appeared in his expression.
“You… two… talk.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Leo.”
He grinned.
“Busy.”
Then he rolled away.
I watched him disappear through the doorway.
Roman stood beside me.
“He’s doing well.”
“He worked hard to get here.”
“I can see that.”
For a moment, we watched the people moving through the center.
A teenager practicing with adaptive computer equipment.
An older woman discussing a repaired wheelchair with a volunteer.
A father helping his daughter adjust her new mobility device.
Roman looked around slowly.
“This is good, Tessa.”
“Thank you.”
He took a breath.
“I came to say something I should have said properly years ago.”
I looked at him.
He continued.
“I’m sorry I followed you.
I’m sorry I believed Carlo before I believed you.
And I’m sorry I allowed my organization to become a place where people could hurt your family and expect to get away with it.”
I felt my throat tighten.
Roman didn’t look away.
“I can’t undo any of that.”
“No,” I whispered.
“You can’t.”
“I know.”
I studied him.
“And what are you going to do now?”
“Something legal.
Something small.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Small?”
He smiled faintly.
“I’m learning that not everything needs to be an empire.”
That made me laugh.
A real laugh.
His expression softened.
Then he reached into his coat.
I tensed instinctively.
Roman noticed.
He stopped.
Slowly, he withdrew a small paper bag.
“No surprises,” he said.
“Just something from the bakery across the street.”
I looked inside.
Two sandwiches.
And a container of soup.
My eyes filled immediately.
Roman’s smile faded.
“I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
I looked at the soup.
A thousand memories rushed back.
Our cold apartment.
The broken wheelchair.
The unpaid bills.
One can of soup divided between two bowls.
Roman standing outside the window.
Everything that had happened afterward.
He looked at me uncertainly.
“I remembered that night.”
“So did I.”
He nodded.
“I think about it often.”
I slowly closed the bag.
Then I looked up.
“You know what’s strange?”
“What?”
“For a long time, I hated that you saw us like that.”
Roman listened.
“I thought you saw how poor we were.
How desperate I was.
How little I could give Leo.”
My eyes burned.
“But I don’t think about it that way anymore.”
“How do you think about it?”
I smiled through my tears.
“I gave my brother almost all the soup because I loved him.
And he knew I was lying about eating lunch because he loved me.”
I glanced toward the workshop room.
“We had almost nothing.
But we still had each other.”
Roman was silent.
Then he said quietly, “You had something I didn’t understand.”
“What?”
“How to love someone without needing to control them.”
I looked at him for a long moment.
Finally, I asked the question I’d been holding back.
“Why are you really here, Roman?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand.
“Because I wanted to see you.”
My heart began beating faster.
“And?”
“And because I’ve thought about you more than I probably have the right to.”
I lowered my eyes.
Roman continued.
“But I didn’t come to ask you for anything.
Not after everything that happened.”
I looked up.
“You’ve changed.”
“I’m trying.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No,” he agreed.
“It isn’t.”
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I surprised myself.
“There’s a coffee shop around the corner.”
Roman blinked.
“I know.”
“They make terrible coffee.”
He smiled.
“That sounds unfortunate.”
“And their tables are too small.”
“Even worse.”
I took a breath.
“But the soup is good.”
Roman looked at me.
For the first time since he’d walked inside, I saw genuine hope in his eyes.
“Tessa…”
I raised a hand.
“I’m not promising you anything.”
“I understand.”
“And if we have coffee, it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the past.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to.”
I studied him.
“No expensive favors.
No secret arrangements.
No following me home.”
Roman nodded solemnly.
“No following you home.”
“And if I tell you something is none of your business, you respect that.”
“Absolutely.”
I tried not to smile.
Then I held out the bakery bag.
“Well, you already brought lunch.”
May you like
Roman took it.
And together, we walked toward the door.
