Once we finished our discussion, we enjoyed lunch together, conversation flowing much more naturally than it had at our past family dinners. It was amazing how at ease everyone could be when we weren’t watching every word and attempting to put on a front. I loved my family, and I wanted nothing more than for us to be a close-knit group. Could we maintain the open channels of communication I had initiated?

Only time would tell.

After lunch, Nico took me to the hospital to visit Michael. Seeing the two men together in one room was odd. They represented two vastly different phases of my life—like Scrooge witnessing the ghost of Christmases past, I was unsettled and on edge. Fortunately, Nico was totally at ease, helping to calm me. When we walked in, he went straight to Michael, offering a firm handshake in greeting. I wasn’t sure what all had gone on between the two men in my absence, but their exchange was a far cry from the near brawl at the diner.

“Hey there, handsome, how you feeling?” I asked, giving him a hug and ignoring Nico’s huff behind me.

“A whole lot better now that I see you’re alive and well. You scared the shit outta me.”

“Ditto. It wasn’t exactly fun to wake up and hear you’d been shot.”

“I’m fine. He didn’t hit an artery or anything. Now that they patched me up, I’m good to break out of here.”

“Michael Garin,” I scolded, finger to his chest. “Don’t you dare think of leaving one minute before those doctors discharge you.”

“One brush with death, and suddenly, she’s all about following the rules,” he teased with a smirk.

“I don’t know about that, but I do know this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t trying to save me. I don’t want you getting an infection or not healing properly because of me.”

His brows came together as his eyes hardened. “You listen to me, Sofia. This was not your fault, so I want you to wipe that shit from your mind. The only one who gets the blame is Sal Amato, you got that?”

My lips thinned, and I nodded, but the guilt tugging at my heart didn’t simply wash away. It was hard to know that someone I loved had been hurt trying to help me. It was even worse knowing that person had been hurting for years because he’d wanted more from me than I could give.