chapter 56: lost

Bose POV:

One week had gone by since everything with Sam, and that tension still hovered in the back of my mind. But I got a text from Sam, who rarely ever contacted me. "My dad's visiting," it read. "You might wanna come by." I hesitated, glancing at the clock. Chapa was at the academy for the day, so I figured it was as good a time as any.

When I arrived, Sam greeted me at the door. His place was... surprisingly cleaner than before. No pizza boxes stacked up, no beer cans scattered around. I raised an eyebrow, impressed.

"Housekeeping?" I joked.

He rolled his eyes, letting me in. "Don't get used to it," he muttered.

I looked around, but his dad wasn't anywhere in sight. "So, where's your dad?"

"He ran to the store. He'll be back any minute." Sam sounded nonchalant, but there was a hint of anticipation in his tone.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, both of us pretending to be cool, when the front door opened. A tall man walked in, gray streaks lining his dark hair, carrying a couple of grocery bags. His gaze landed on me immediately, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Who's this?" he asked, his voice rough but curious.

I took a deep breath, getting to my feet. "I'm Bose O'Brien," I said, then hesitated. "This may sound surprisingly, but I... I think I might be related to you."

His eyes widened, and I could see the realization hit him. He put the bags down, staring at me in disbelief. "Rafaella's boy?" he whispered, almost to himself.

My heart pounded as I nodded. "My birth dad's name was Rafaella de Capra. I think... I think he might've been your brother?"

He closed his eyes for a second, processing, then looked back at me with a kind of haunted sadness. "Rafaella... yes. He was my younger brother." His voice softened.

I swallowed, the lump in my throat growing. "He... he sent me things. A live goat, even a statue of a goat. I thought maybe he was reaching out."

He shook his head slowly, almost painfully. "Rafaella... he never came back to the States. Our parents... they found out he'd made your mother here pregnant. They forced him back to Italy. Told him to leave her alone and never look back."

"But why?" I stammered, feeling a rush of anger. "Why didn't he come back for us? Or... for me?"

Sam's dad looked away, eyes distant. "Because our parents controlled everything. They were poor and controlling. When they found out he'd had a child with your mother... they saw it as a disgrace. Especially after I already made a woman pregnant, Sam's mother. And they didn't want him to make the same mistake as I did - throwing my life away for my child. They forced him to stay in Italy, didn't give him a choice. He cried every night, missing her. He truly loved her, Bose. He wanted to stay, but they wouldn't allow it."

"So he just... listened to them? He didn't even try to find me when he was older?"

"He tried," he said, his voice pained. "But our parents warned him not to. Said he'd only bring you pain. He did try to reach out, but he didn't know where you were. Had no contact, no address, nothing."

I felt my throat tighten, emotions swirling too fast to contain. "And now?"

He took a deep breath, and his face turned grim. "I'm sorry, Bose. Rafaella... he couldn't take the pressure, the heartbreak. Our parents... they haunted him. He took his own life over 20 years ago."

I couldn't breathe, couldn't even find words. It felt like someone had punched me straight through my chest. I'd always known it was possible, that maybe he wasn't here anymore, but I wasn't prepared. I couldn't be. "No... no, that... that can't be right."

His face was full of regret. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you this. But it's the truth."

I shook my head, refusing to believe it. "Then who sent me the goat... or the statue? Who's been reaching out?"

He looked just as lost. "I don't know, Bose. I wish I did."

Without saying another word, I turned and walked out of the house. I couldn't handle another second in that place. The moment I got into my car, my emotions finally cracked open, and I felt tears streaming down my face. I leaned my head back, pressing my hands over my eyes, letting everything out.

I fumbled for the radio, hoping it would distract me. But even the static, the music—nothing could drown out the emptiness I felt inside.

The car ride home was a blur. My head was pounding from everything I'd just learned, and all I wanted was to make sense of it somehow. Then my phone buzzed, and I saw it was Chapa calling. Despite the tears still streaming down my face, I found myself smiling. I wiped my cheeks, took a deep breath, and did my best to sound normal.

"Hey," I answered, my voice only slightly shaky.

"Where are you?" she asked, a hint of irritation in her tone. "Weren't we supposed to head home together?"

"Oh, right," I replied, scrambling for an excuse. "I, uh... went out for a bit. Lost track of time."

She sighed. "Well, don't worry about it. I'll just take the bus. It's no big deal."

Normally, I'd insist on picking her up, making some excuse to be there, but right now, I was just too drained to argue. "Alright. I'll see you at home."

I hung up and drove back, my mind and heart tangled up in all the emotions I'd tried so hard to avoid. When I walked into the penthouse, there she was, already lounging on the couch, watching some show. She looked up, pausing it as I walked in, her gaze narrowing as she took in my face.

"What have you been doing?" she asked, the usual teasing note absent from her voice.

I barely had it in me to answer. I just shrugged, dropping my coat and walking toward her. As I reached her, I stopped, and for a moment, we just looked at each other. Her expression shifted, her eyes scanning my face with genuine concern.

Without saying a word, I sank to my knees, resting my head in her lap. The tears I'd fought so hard to hold back just started flowing again, unstoppable. She kept saying my name softly, her voice steady and warm, her hand reaching down to stroke my hair.

I don't know how long I cried, but she stayed there with me, patient and calm. Eventually, I managed to sit up, wiping my face as best as I could. When I tried to speak, my voice cracked.

"Chapa... I..."

She put her hand on my shoulder. "It's okay, Bose. Tell me."

"My father..." I managed, voice barely above a whisper, and that's all I had to say. The understanding dawned in her eyes immediately. She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close.

"Come here," she murmured, guiding my head to her chest, her embrace warm and steady, holding me together while I fell apart.

"I feel ridiculous," I said, laughing bitterly through the tears. "He wasn't even in my life. I shouldn't be this torn up."

"Hey," she said, her tone firm, "it's okay to cry. You don't have to hold it all in. Just let it out."

Her words seemed to ease something inside me. Slowly, my breathing steadied, and the ache in my chest loosened just a bit. She asked gently, "Do you want anything? Tea, something to eat?"

I shook my head. "No. I just want to stay here. Like this... if that's alright."

She gave me a small smile, "Of course it's okay, Bose."

Andrew POV:

I hadn't seen Mika in a week. Not since that conversation about sharing a bed, which had been both awkward and necessary. I was buried under preparations for tomorrow's autumn fashion show, but even as I hustled through the chaos, thoughts of her lingered. The late-night hours were particularly quiet, leaving plenty of room for my mind to wander back to her.

When the doorbell rang that night, I wasn't expecting anyone. I opened the door to find her standing there, cheeks flushed and shivering in a thin jacket.

"Hey," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can we talk?"

"Of course," I replied, stepping aside quickly. "Get in here before you freeze."

As she settled into a chair at my dining table, I hurried to brew some tea. The steam swirled up into the air, filling the room with warmth, but I could feel the tension between us like a tightrope stretched too thin. I placed the steaming cup in front of her, watching as she wrapped her hands around it, almost as if trying to absorb its heat.

"So," she began hesitantly, "tomorrow is the autumn fashion show, right?"

"Yeah," I said, leaning back and crossing my arms. "It's been a marathon getting everything ready." I raised an eyebrow. "But I guess that's not why you're here."

She nodded, taking a deep breath. "I wanted to talk about... well, last time's conversation. I've never really been intimate with anyone, and I don't want you to have high expectations, especially when it comes to sharing a bed."

My mind raced with the implications of her words. The thought struck me like lightning—how lucky I might be if I were the one to be her first. The very idea sent a thrill through me, a mixture of excitement and tenderness.

To touch her for the first time, to feel the warmth of her skin against mine, would be something I could only imagine in dreams. I could almost visualize it: the softness of her hair beneath my fingertips, the way her eyes would widen in surprise and wonder as I explored the contours of her body. It felt like heaven, a paradise I had yet to step into.

But alongside the thrill came a wave of protectiveness. I wanted to ensure that her first experience was everything she dreamed it would be, free from any pressures or expectations. I had no intention of rushing her; I just wanted her to know that I would cherish every moment we shared.

Mika's voice broke through my reverie as she continued speaking, her cheeks slightly flushed. "I just want to be honest with you about where I'm at."

I wanted to assure her, to ease that tension coiling in the air between us. "I would never have high expectations of you, especially not when it comes to sharing a bed," I said gently. "Honestly, I just like warm company. I'm always cold at night."

Mika chuckled softly, the tension easing just a bit. "So, are we saying our awkward phase is over?"

I nodded, a smile breaking through. "I think so."

Then, feeling bold, I leaned forward a little. "So, how about tonight? Do you want to keep me warm?"

She hesitated, and I could see the gears turning in her mind. "It's probably not a smart idea," she replied slowly, recalling how last time had gone.

"We can set an alarm," I suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

She took a sip of her tea, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "It's already October. I guess we should keep each other warm," she finally said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

My heart raced a little. "Exactly," I said, feeling the weight of our earlier conversation lifting. It felt good to know we were on the same page.

Mika POV:

Settling into Andrew's bed felt surreal, a cozy cocoon of his scent and warmth enveloping me. I slipped on his joggers, the fabric soft and familiar, and paired them with an oversized Star Wars T-shirt that hung loosely on my frame. It was comforting, and somehow, it made me feel a little braver.

After a while, Andrew finally emerged from his preparations for the fashion show. He walked into the bathroom, and I caught glimpses of him moving around, my heart racing each time. I couldn't help but watch as he unbuttoned his work shirt, revealing broad shoulders and a sculpted torso. His muscles were impressive, and I felt my cheeks heat as I admired his physique. I quickly redirected my gaze to the book in my hands, pretending to be absorbed in the pages, even though my mind was racing with thoughts of him.

He turned around and caught me in the act, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Should I not wear a T-shirt for bed?" he teased.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. "No, you should. It's cold after all," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

His laughter was infectious. "You really do admire my body, huh? Remember the first time? You couldn't look away."

I raised my voice in protest. "It's not my fault your body looks like Captain America's right after he came out of that machine." I added, biting my lip to suppress a smile. "How much do you even work out?"

"Only like two times a week. Not that many," he replied, shrugging as if it were no big deal. Then, with a cheeky glint in his eyes, he asked, "So yes or no shirt?"

"Yes," I answered quickly, realizing how distracted I could easily become. "If you don't wear a shirt, I'll get distracted and I won't be able to sleep, and then I won't get enough rest for tomorrow."

He nodded and laughed, before disappearing into the bathroom to change. My heart raced as I waited, the anticipation building. When he finally lay down next to me, I felt the heat radiating from his body. "Can I wrap my arms around you?" he asked softly, and I smiled, whispering, "You can."

As he wrapped his arms around my waist, I nestled into him, feeling safe and secure. I loved the way his warmth enveloped me, making the world outside fade away. As his eyes fluttered closed, he murmured, "Put the book down and turn off the lights."

"Just one more minute," I insisted, wanting to finish the chapter I had barely absorbed.

He chuckled, his breath warm against the fabric of my T shirt. "Okay, but then I really need you to put the book down so you can keep me warm."

"Deal," I replied, finally allowing myself to relax against him.

Chapa POV:

I woke up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket with Bose's head resting gently on my stomach. He hadn't moved since last night. His weight was comforting, even though he was still in his suit from work. He looked peaceful, though I knew beneath it all he was anything but. My heart ached for him; what he'd been through was unimaginable, and it was so unfair. For someone so good, someone who deserved happiness and peace, to go through this—it felt wrong.

My stomach growled. I hadn't eaten anything either, apart from some stale chips on the coffee table. I picked up my phone and glanced at the screen—10 a.m. I was supposed to be at the academy by now, and Bose should have been at work.

Then his phone buzzed. I carefully slipped it from his pocket, trying not to wake him, and checked the caller ID: Bridget. I sighed and declined it. As the screen unlocked with my Face ID, I scrolled through his notifications. Bridget had called him four times, asking where he was and why he hadn't shown up. Andrew had also sent him several messages. Figuring Andrew would understand best, I opened the chat and quickly messaged him.

"Hey, it's Chapa," I typed. "Bose isn't feeling well, so he's not coming in today."

Andrew replied almost instantly. "The fashion show is today, and his stepdad's here! He needs to be present."

"He's not coming, Andrew. Don't expect him," I wrote back firmly.

After a moment, he responded, "Are you holding him hostage or something?"

I rolled my eyes, typing back, "No, he's asleep."

Then, another text popped up. "Also, you're marked absent at the academy, no notice or anything. That means an extra fee."

I groaned. "Thanks, Andrew," I muttered under my breath before typing, "Tell them it's an emergency," and finally put down Bose's phone.

About thirty minutes later, I felt him stir. His eyes blinked open slowly, and he looked up at me, looking a little dazed. "Hi," he murmured, his voice still soft from sleep.

"Good morning," I replied, smiling at him. "Did you get some good sleep?"

He nodded, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I shouldn't have slept on you all night. Should've gone to bed."

"It's fine, really," I assured him, giving his shoulder a little squeeze.

He looked at me, eyes soft with gratitude. "Thanks," he said, though he still seemed distant, almost lost.

I smiled gently. "How about you change into something more comfortable?"

"Yeah," he murmured, getting to his feet and heading toward his room. He looked so tired, so worn down, like he didn't even know how to begin piecing himself back together.

While he changed, I headed to the kitchen. Figured I'd make him something to eat. I wasn't much of a cook, but eggs? I could manage that.

He walked in just as I finished up and set a plate on the table. His hair was damp from a shower, and he'd changed into sweats and a T-shirt. When he saw the plate, he looked over at me with a soft, grateful smile.

"Thank you," he said, his voice a little clearer than before.

I paused, wanting to give him space but also letting him know he could talk to me if he needed to. "If you ever want to talk about it," I said quietly, "I'm here."

He gave me a small, sad smile, shaking his head. "Thank you," he said again, "but...there isn't much more to add."

I nodded, understanding.

Mika POV:

It was around noon, and I was deep into work when my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen—Andrew was calling. I picked up, surprised, and before I could even say hello, he jumped right in.

"Hey, Mika. I've got extra tickets for the fashion show tonight," he said smoothly. "Think you might want to bring your mom, dad, aunt, or maybe Miles?"

I felt a little flutter of excitement. "Oh, thank you! Mom and Aunt Didi would love it, for sure. But, you know Dad...he's not exactly into these things."

Andrew laughed softly. "Didn't think so. Well, I have one more ticket. Do you think Miles would want to come?"

"Probably." I replied. "I'll check with him and let you know."

"Great. Then I'll see you tonight," he said, his voice warm before he hung up.

After hanging up, I quickly texted Mom, Aunt Didi, and Miles, letting them know I had extra tickets for the show tonight. It didn't take long for the replies to come in—everyone was in. I smiled, feeling a sense of excitement that they'd all be there.

—

Later that evening, I picked up Aunt Didi, Miles, and Mom for the fashion show. The car was soon filled with the lively hum of their chatter as we headed downtown. Mom and Aunt Didi, as usual, were in their element, exchanging gossip and laughing. At one point, I noticed Aunt Didi was wearing one of Mom's dresses.

"I had to borrow this," Aunt Didi explained with a grin. "Came straight from work and didn't have anything fancy with me."

I smiled, watching them bicker and laugh. But as soon as Aunt Didi turned her attention to Miles, I sensed the shift.

"So, Miles," she said with a curious look. "Is Maddie coming tonight?"

Miles tensed beside me, and I knew this was a tricky one for him, considering "Maddie" was actually Blaise. He cleared his throat. "No, she's not coming tonight. And... she's probably not coming to Hawaii, either."

Aunt Didi's face twisted in surprise. "Why not? You two better haven't broken up!"

Miles opened his mouth, looking like he was about to tell the truth, but then Mom cut in smoothly, saving him.

"Of course they haven't, Didi."

I glanced at Miles, who looked a little relieved but also defeated. Aunt Didi didn't seem to notice; she crossed her arms, giving him a warning look. "Good. Because I've already booked and if you had broken up, I'd be very disappointed in you, young man."

Miles shifted uncomfortably, then muttered, "You could always give Maddie's ticket to Andrew."

I shot him a look, but he just shrugged back at me, resigned. Aunt Didi, however, seized the chance and turned to me.

"Oh, about that!" she said. "I was actually wondering if Andrew could come with us."

I bit my lip, thinking fast. "I mean... he probably has a lot of work to do. This is a busy time for him."

"Well," Aunt Didi huffed, "if he's not paying for himself, I'd rather take Blaise, anyway. That man has plenty of money, anyway."

I smirked. Aunt Didi didn't hold back. And she was right—Andrew had enough money in his pockets. But so had Aunt Didi, and she was practically glowing with pride. She'd been promoted at the police station a couple months ago, moving into a higher-ranking position, which came with a generous pay raise. That's how she'd been able to treat the family to this Hawaii trip, even bringing Mom and Dad along.

As we drove closer to the venue, I felt a warmth growing within me, hearing the excitement in their voices.

Andrew POV:

As the fashion show began filling up, I caught sight of Mika coming in with her family, and I made my way over to greet them. Aunt Didi was the first to speak up, her eyes twinkling. "Andrew," she said, "you should come with us to Hawaii!"

"Oh," I replied, slightly caught off guard since that's the first thing she said to me. I smiled and said, "that's very generous. If you'd really want me there..."

"Well, of course," Aunt Didi said, adding with a smirk, "but only if you pay for yourself."

I chuckled. "Naturally," I said, completely unfazed. But Mika was turning pink beside me. "Aunt Didi!" she groaned, clearly embarrassed.

I gave her a reassuring look and laughed it off. "It's alright, Mika." Then I turned back to Didi. "When are you all going?"

"Four weeks from now," she replied, crossing her arms with a slight grin. "I'll send you the flight info if you decide to come along."

"Perfect," I said. "I'll see if I can make it work." I leaned back and told them, "Enjoy the show," as the lights began to dim.

We took our seats in the VIP section, and I ended up next to Miles, who looked a bit tense. Leaning over, I asked, "Everything alright?"

Miles shot me a look and sighed. "Uh, no man. I promised Aunt Didi I'd bring Maddie to Hawaii. Or, well, Blaise pretending to be Maddie. It's... complicated."

I was catching on now and leaned in to hear him better. "Why not just let Blaise keep up the act a little longer?" I suggested, half-joking. "Then you could, you know, 'break up' after the trip."

He shook his head. "Already thought of that, but she's not up for it anymore."

"Then tell Aunt Didi the truth?" I offered.

Miles rolled his eyes, giving me a look of defeat. "Andrew, you're not really helping. Already ran those ideas by myself."

I grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, if you need any other help, you know where to find me."

The show began, and I settled into my seat.