Thirty Years, One Mistake Chapter 08

Thirty Years, One Mistake Chapter 08

I went home and slept like the dead. 

I took a few days off to rest at home. 

My mother made every kind of soup she could 

think of. My father took me for a walk in the park 

every day without fail. 

“Get some sun – it’s good for you.” 

He never mentioned Luca or the lost child. He just 

walked silently beside me, using his broad 

shoulders to shield me from the wind and rain. 

The atmosphere at home was more peaceful than 

ever. 

I ate quietly, rested, and went back to the hospital 

with my mother for a thorough checkup. 

But I often woke up in the middle of the night and 

stared at the ceiling until dawn. 

When I couldn’t sleep, I got up and sorted through 

Luca’s things. 

Childhood toys, letters, photos, train and plane 

— 

tickets all the little souvenirs from our years 

together. 

They filled a whole box. 

On the day I shipped it, my father silently helped 

me seal it. He asked nothing. 

Three days later, Luca called. 

I watched the name flash on the screen and didn’t 

pick up. 

He texted: [I got the box, Linda. Let’s talk.] 

I didn’t reply. 

Another text: [I’m outside your door.] 

I walked to the window and pulled the curtain 

aside. 

He stood under a streetlight, his shadow 

stretching long, looking up at my window. 

I closed the curtain and turned off my phone. 

The next morning, my father came back and said 

Luca had stood there all night and just left. 

I said nothing, just ate my oatmeal. 

My mother put down her fork. “Next time he 

comes, I’ll beat him myself.” 

“I forgave him once eight years ago. What more does he want? You don’t treat people like this.” 

My father sighed. 

“He just wasn’t lucky enough.” 

I nodded, hiding my burning eyes. 

Luca went back to his parents‘ house. 

The moment he walked in, Old Don threw an 

ashtray at him. 

“You bastard.” His face was purple. “The Russo 

family’s lawyer is here. If you don’t sign the divorce 

papers, they’ll sue you!” 

“And the moneylaundering channels they set up – 

all of them will be cut off!” 

Luca didn’t dodge. The ashtray grazed his temple, 

leaving a red welt. 

Mrs. Falcone pulled him down to sit, voice urgent. 

“You went to see Linda. Will she forgive you?” 

He hadn’t slept all night. His voice was hoarse. “No. She won’t see me.” 

Mrs. Falcone covered her face and sank onto the sofa. 

“Linda is like our own daughter. How can we ever face them now?” 

“Luca, you’ve lost your mind.” 

Old Don panted. “I don’t care if you beg or try to make amends. You have to show some sincerity. Otherwise, I don’t want a son who can’t keep his 

vows.” 

Luca lifted his swollen eyes. “She won’t see me 

anymore.” 

“Then kneel. Stay there until she agrees to see 

you.”