Page 139 of Family Bonds- Gabriela & Luca

“I can tell myself that all I want, but it doesn’t change the outcome. He’s not ready to be around anyone. He claims he knows what he needs and it’s obviously not me.”

“Don’t be that way, Gabriela. That’s you being a bit selfish. Give him space. He’s gone through something tragic once already. This wasn’t the same thing, but it might be close in his eyes.”

“I told him I understand it was the lost hope that he’s grieving.”

“You’re smart,” her mother said. “That was what I was going to say too. And hope when it’s cut down is often harder to recover from.”

Not what she wanted to hear.

“I don’t know what to do for him,” she said, looking at the ceiling and trying to battle the tears back. “But I don’t want to let him do this alone. Mom, he holed himself up for two years after Zoe died. I can’t let him do that again.”

“Gabriela, it’s not for you tolethim do anything. It’s up to you to just be there for him and what he needs, and if it hurts you, then you’re just going to have to deal with it silently for now.”

She groaned. “I don’t do anything silently.”

“No. And this will be a test for you both. Just be there for him. It’s the best advice I can give you.”

“Thanks.”

But she’d already figured it out herself.

She just hoped she could follow through with it.

40

DISTANCE AND FACTS

“Mom,” Luca said the next morning, clearing his throat that threatened to close.

“Luca,” his mother said. “I love that I’m hearing from you more often.”

Her voice was happy. Light. Carefree.

Like she was dialing back her excitement. Just like he’d been doing too.

It hadn’t helped though.

“It is nice,” he said.

“Do you have any news on the adoption? How are things going? Not much longer. Two months, right?”

Pain squeezed his chest until he wasn’t sure the words would come at all. He was raw. Hollowed out. The night before had left him scraped down to the bone.

“It’s not going to happen,” he said flatly.

“Oh no,” his mother breathed. “I’m so sorry. Did she change her mind?”

“No.” He bowed his head, pressing his forehead into his palm, grounding himself against the arm of the chair hoping it would make all his aches go away. “The baby didn’t make it.”

Silence stretched across the line.

He focused on breathing. On not breaking.

“I’m so sorry, Luca,” his mother said softly. “What happened? Do you want to talk about it?”

Maybe it was easier to say it clinically. To frame it the way he always did, with distance and facts.

“Taylor went into labor yesterday,” he said. “There was no heartbeat. The cord was wrapped around his neck.” His voice stayed steady. Professional. “Sometimes that just happens.”