Since I'm writing so much, I don't read other stories anymore. So, thankfully you have these in an audio stream so I can listen to them when doing my domestics. Finally got round to listening and I'm being sucked in :-)
Glad it pulled you in, that means a lot coming from someone deep in their own writing. Have you ever thought about recording your chapters? Audio changes how a story lands. My eyes would love you for it. Then again I may just get more creeped out hearing your fabulous stories. 🙈🙉
I am planning audio plays later in the year. It's an experiment in developing immersive audio, though, not simple press record and speak. However, you are making me think about accessibility!
I again feel so fortunate reading Lucia’s story. My grandparents and my great grandparents loved me in a way that Lucia never got to know.
Hearing as Lucia collapsed, safe in Matteo’s arms feels safe. And yet, the foreshadowing of something being wrong with Matteo has me hoping that Lucia is not going to have her heart shattered by whatever this news is.
Having that safe space to cry, to truly and deeply cry is a blessing. It really felt as if I was there, sharing a moment in the arc
Thank you so much, Sheri. This means a great deal to me, especially because you’re reading Lucia with so much compassion.
That safety Matteo gives her in this moment matters because Lucia has spent so much of her life holding herself together where no one was willing to hold the truth with her. To be able to collapse without being punished, judged, corrected, or made responsible for someone else’s feelings is something she has never really had.
And yes, Matteo carries his own shadow. His instinct is to protect her, but he is not untouched by pain himself. That tension between safety and fear, between what they offer each other and what they are still hiding, is very much part of their arc.
I love that you felt like you were there with them. That quiet shared space, where two wounded people recognize something in each other before they fully understand it, is one of the emotional centers of the story.
This chapter hit close to home for me. Like Lucia, I grew up in a house where rules felt suffocating and love felt conditional.
The strict curfews of having to be home by 10pm even after football games made me desperate to be anywhere else. I threw myself into practices, work, and stolen moments with my girlfriend just to breathe.
Reading Lucia finally breaking down in Matteo’s arms, admitting her abuela only saw her as a painful reminder, reminded me how heavy that kind of rejection feels.
Sometimes the people who are supposed to love you end up making you feel like a burden or a scar. Matteo offering silent safety and a steady presence is the kind of escape and comfort I once craved too. Beautifully written.
Michael, thank you for trusting this chapter with something so personal. That kind of conditional love can make a house feel smaller than it is, like every rule exists to remind you that breathing room has to be stolen.
Since I'm writing so much, I don't read other stories anymore. So, thankfully you have these in an audio stream so I can listen to them when doing my domestics. Finally got round to listening and I'm being sucked in :-)
Glad it pulled you in, that means a lot coming from someone deep in their own writing. Have you ever thought about recording your chapters? Audio changes how a story lands. My eyes would love you for it. Then again I may just get more creeped out hearing your fabulous stories. 🙈🙉
I am planning audio plays later in the year. It's an experiment in developing immersive audio, though, not simple press record and speak. However, you are making me think about accessibility!
I again feel so fortunate reading Lucia’s story. My grandparents and my great grandparents loved me in a way that Lucia never got to know.
Hearing as Lucia collapsed, safe in Matteo’s arms feels safe. And yet, the foreshadowing of something being wrong with Matteo has me hoping that Lucia is not going to have her heart shattered by whatever this news is.
Having that safe space to cry, to truly and deeply cry is a blessing. It really felt as if I was there, sharing a moment in the arc
of their lives together…
Thank you so much, Sheri. This means a great deal to me, especially because you’re reading Lucia with so much compassion.
That safety Matteo gives her in this moment matters because Lucia has spent so much of her life holding herself together where no one was willing to hold the truth with her. To be able to collapse without being punished, judged, corrected, or made responsible for someone else’s feelings is something she has never really had.
And yes, Matteo carries his own shadow. His instinct is to protect her, but he is not untouched by pain himself. That tension between safety and fear, between what they offer each other and what they are still hiding, is very much part of their arc.
I love that you felt like you were there with them. That quiet shared space, where two wounded people recognize something in each other before they fully understand it, is one of the emotional centers of the story.
This chapter hit close to home for me. Like Lucia, I grew up in a house where rules felt suffocating and love felt conditional.
The strict curfews of having to be home by 10pm even after football games made me desperate to be anywhere else. I threw myself into practices, work, and stolen moments with my girlfriend just to breathe.
Reading Lucia finally breaking down in Matteo’s arms, admitting her abuela only saw her as a painful reminder, reminded me how heavy that kind of rejection feels.
Sometimes the people who are supposed to love you end up making you feel like a burden or a scar. Matteo offering silent safety and a steady presence is the kind of escape and comfort I once craved too. Beautifully written.
Michael, thank you for trusting this chapter with something so personal. That kind of conditional love can make a house feel smaller than it is, like every rule exists to remind you that breathing room has to be stolen.