ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond-Chapter 130: Needs someone in his life

Chapter 130: Needs someone in his life
Chapter 130
KATYA POV
Getting Nonna to eat even half her breakfast felt like a small miracle. She didn’t talk much, just nodded when I asked questions.
And made these tiny distracted sounds whenever I checked on her. But she ate and that was enough.
Now, I was wheeling her toward the garden. The hallways were quieter than normal, like the entire house sensed something was wrong and was trying not to breathe too loudly.
Sunlight poured through the tall windows in long, golden strips, warming the marble floor. Normally, I’d admire the way the light made everything feel softer, less hostile.
Nonna kept her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her posture was straight, poised like always, but her eyes... they weren’t here.
They were somewhere else entirely—somewhere between the phone call, the gunshots, and that grandson .
I didn’t interrupt her thoughts.
We reached the large glass doors that led outside, and the moment I cracked them open, a gentle breeze lifted into the hall.
Real air. Not the sterile, too-clean air that circulated through the estate. The scent of grass, flowers, and morning dew drifted in.
Nonna lifted her head slightly, drawn to it. "Ah..." she murmured, barely above a whisper. "Finalmente—
finally
"
I pushed the door wide with my shoulder and guided her wheelchair outside. The garden opened up around us—beautiful in that effortless, expensive way only places maintained daily could be.
The grass looked like it had been trimmed by someone using scissors. Tall hedges arched neatly along the paths.
Flowers bloomed in layers of color. Soft pinks, deep reds, pale yellows. Arranged so perfectly it almost made me nervous to breathe too close.
Birds hopped between branches, chirping like the world hadn’t heard gunshots this morning.
A stone path stretched in clean curves through the garden, leading toward everything at once—a small pond glimmering under the sun, a perfect built swing hanging from a strong oak, and several benches tucked into shaded corners meant for quiet.
I didn’t come out here often. Too many guards.
Always stationed near the outer edge of the garden, watching the tree line with stiff shoulders and sharp eyes.
It didn’t take a genius to guess why. The garden stretched closest to the woods.
Closest to escape and closest to danger. I tightened my grip on Nonna’s wheelchair, steering her along the smoother part of the stone path.
The sunlight hit her face, warm and gentle, and she closed her eyes for a few seconds, like she was recharging.
I guided her toward the shaded part of the garden, under a flowering tree with white blossoms.
The guards were thinner here, further away. Easier to forget about. "You want to sit here for a bit?" I asked softly.
"Mm." She nodded. I stopped the chair beneath the branches, where the sunlight filtered in soft, broken patches.
A breeze stirred the blossoms, sending a few petals drifting down around us. "This place..." she sighed, leaning her head back. "It reminds me to breathe."
I shifted beside her. "How are you feeling?" Nonna didn’t answer right away. She lifted one hand, resting it lightly on the arm of the chair.
"I am... afraid," she admitted softly. "But I am trying not to be. Worrying will not bring him back faster."
I nodded. "He said five hours." "Sì." Her voice tightened. "But he also sounded like an idiot."
A small quiet laugh escaped me. Romeo definitely was many things but an idiot.. I don’t think so. Maybe sometimes.
We fell into silence. The kind that didn’t feel heavy anymore. The breeze shifted again, brushing my hair across my cheek.
I tucked it behind my ear and scanned the garden automatically, like some paranoid reflex I’d learned since arriving here.
I let out a slow breath and finally sat on one of the garden chairs beside her. They were the fancy with smooth metal frames and soft cushions that didn’t match the seriousness of the guards patrolling a few meters away.
Nonna didn’t move. Her gaze stayed fixed ahead, somewhere past the pond where the sunlight glittered over the water like tiny broken diamonds.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Then, so quietly I almost missed it, Nonna whispered something.
I straightened, totally not hearing what she had said. "Nonna? Did you say something?"
She blinked, as if she hadn’t realized any sound escaped her. "Oh—no, no, cara. Not to you." She shook her head slowly. "Just... thinking aloud."
I leaned forward a little concerned. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She exhaled a trembling breath, her shoulders sinking with the weight of something too heavy for bones her age to carry.
She finally spoke but her voice was barely more than a hush. "I’m worried, Katya. I’m... scared."
Nonna stared down at her hands, twisting them gently in her lap. "Romeo," she breathed, his name fragile between her lips.
"He is the only one left in this world for me. The only thing that keeps me rooted here instead of..." She didn’t finish the sentence but she didn’t have to.
"I just want that boy happy and safe," she continued, her voice trembling again. "Is that too much to ask? After everything he has suffered?"
A soft breeze swept past us, lifting a few white petals from the branches above and letting them fall into Nonna’s lap.
"He just recovered from a coma." Her jaw tightened. "Not even fully recovered. His body is still weak, even if he pretends otherwise. And yet—"
She looked out toward the woods, her eyes sharp with a motherly mix of love and frustration.
"The moment his legs worked again, he threw himself into danger." A bitter sound escaped her. It was a mix of a sigh and a laugh.
"Always the same child. Always running where he shouldn’t." She closed her eyes, pressing a hand lightly over her heart.
Her hand lingered over her chest for some seconds before she lowered it again, fingers curling weakly in her lap.
When she spoke next, her voice was quiet, less shaken now, but weighted. "Sometimes, I wonder if he would be different... if he had someone." she murmured.
I blinked, turning my head toward her. "Someone?"
"Sì." Her eyes stayed on the pond, reflecting the shifting ripples as though they were memories.
"Someone in his life. Someone he could come home to. Someone who gives him a reason not to run toward danger like a madman."
I shifted in my seat. "He has you, Nonna."
She let out a soft, tired laugh. "Not like that, cara." She tilted her head, giving me a knowing look that made my stomach tighten for reasons I didn’t want to examine too closely.
"I am his grandmother," she said gently. "My love can only carry him so far. It cannot anchor him."
"Anchor him?"
"Yes." She plucked a fallen petal from her lap, rolling it between her fingers. "A man who feels alone—truly alone—will always think his life is something he can gamble. Like it has no great worth to anyone."
Her gaze turned sharp, almost accusing, though I knew it wasn’t directed at me.
"He is twenty-nine," she continued. "Not getting any younger. At this age, a man should be building something. A family. A future. Something that tethers him to life. A special person who says, ’Come back to me.’ And makes him want to listen."
I looked away, pretending to adjust the cushion on my chair. "Maybe he just... doesn’t want that."
Nonna hummed, turning her head toward me, giving me the smallest, saddest smile.
"That boy needs someone in his life more than he realizes."
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