The Slave of Pleasure
Chapter 141

Rachel

The night was heavy, as if the world outside was collapsing along with the rain that beat against the bedroom window. The drops ran down the glass, and the sound of the wind whistled, bringing with it a melancholy that I could not shake off. The dim light of the lamp was the only comfort in that dense darkness that seemed to reflect my state of mind. No matter how much I tried to divert my thoughts, the uncertainty about Vincenzo and the future still weighed on me. I was lying in the bed that Nancy had prepared for me, in a room that she assured me was cozy and, in fact, it was. But the warmth of the blankets did not warm the emptiness that was forming inside me. Each thunderclap seemed to echo inside my chest, and I wondered, once again, what would come after all this.

It was then that the door began to open slowly. I turned around, wondering who it could be at that hour. Nancy appeared, and just the sight of her was enough for a low laugh to escape my lips. She looked adorable, in a way I hadn't expected. Her hair was pinned up in a way that reminded me of a child who had just finished playing with her hair. She was wearing unicorn pajamas-all colorful and covered in tiny sparkles and she was holding a teddy bear so tightly to her chest that I could almost hear the little toy protest.

"Can I sleep with you?" her voice was low, almost a whisper. "The rain is so heavy and I... I don't like thunder."

The cuteness of that scene hit me in a way I hadn't expected. For a moment, all the tension that had built up over the past few days seemed to melt away. Nancy, for all her confidence and unwavering energy, also had a childlike side. It was a reminder that even the strongest people have moments of vulnerability.

I smiled and motioned for her to climb into bed. "Of course you can. Come here, Nancy."

She didn't hesitate. Within seconds, she was under the covers, shivering slightly. Another clap of thunder split the sky, and Nancy buried her face in the pillow, curling up as if to hide from the sound. I reached over and hugged her, letting her snuggle against me. "It's okay," I whispered. "The thunder can't hurt you here." Her body slowly relaxed, and I felt the weight of the moment. Taking care of Nancy in that moment made me realize something I didn't know was missing from my life: I'd never had a sister to care for. And in that moment, Nancy seemed to be that little sister I'd never had. Nancy's house was exactly how I imagined it, but it still managed to surprise me. As soon as I walked in, I was greeted by an explosion of colors and objects that seemed to tell their own stories. Mixed-pattern pillows were scattered across the couch, some with drawings of cats, others with funny sayings that clearly had her face. The walls were a mosaic of paintings, photographs, and small ornaments that I swore didn't match, but somehow made sense together. The living room had an energy that was hard to explain. Chaotic, yes, but also welcoming. Every corner of the house seemed to reflect Nancy, from the bookshelf with mystery novels to the vinyl records scattered around an old record player. A pile of colorful blankets was thrown over an armchair, as if Nancy were ready to curl up at any moment to watch a TV marathon. "Sorry about the mess, but you know me," she said with a mischievous smile, pushing some magazines to free up space on the couch. I laughed. "Nancy, this is your house. And I wouldn't change a thing."

I sat down on the soft couch and sank into it, feeling immense relief. After everything that had happened, being here was like breathing fresh air for the first time in days. It was strange how this disorganized space brought me more peace than the cold silence of the hospital. I needed that. I needed something real, not white walls and cold lights.

Nancy appeared from the kitchen with two mugs of steaming tea. She plopped down next to me, pulling a blanket over our legs. Rain pattered against the window, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Thunder sucks," Nancy muttered, cringing a little. I stifled a laugh. Nancy, the most fearless woman I knew, was afraid of storms. She looked like a child, hugging the mug as if it would ward off the lightning.

"I didn't even know you were afraid of thunder," I said, teasing her lightly. She grimaced. "Don't tell. I have a reputation to uphold."

Seeing Nancy like this, so vulnerable, brought a lightness to my chest that I hadn't even known I needed. For the first time in days, I felt like I could relax. She'd given me a reason to smile, and that was more valuable than anything else at that moment.

As I held her, my mind began to wander. Vincenzo. The child. The possibility of a new life. I wasn't sure what that meant. The future held, but suddenly the idea of building a family with him, helping him care for his son, seemed like a chance to not only right his wrongs, but also to replace something I had always wanted without knowing it: to belong to something bigger.

If Vincenzo agreed, maybe we could raise this child together. I could give him the love and security he needed so he would never become part of the world Vincenzo had fought so hard to leave behind. We could be the family he never had. Nancy stirred beside me, murmuring something in her sleep, and I smiled. The night outside was still raging with the storm, but inside that room, under that blanket, there was a small haven of calm. And that was all I needed at that moment.