Chapter 12
I watch the woman I’ve known practically my whole life pretend to dab at her mouth with the linen napkin, and I wonder how I ever considered marrying her.
Every gesture Capria makes is calculated, either to seduce or to impress her audience, proof of her polished upbringing.
Come to think of it, not even during sex does she ever fully let go.
I’m sure there are men insecure enough to be satisfied with that sort of performance, as if their partner exists solely to please them.
Not me.
I grew up with a loud mother. A woman who never once hid what she was feeling, for better or worse.
And though, to be honest, I’ve never cared enough to truly know Capria, I don’t like the thought of being tied to someone who’s constantly pretending, reshaping herself depending on what the moment demands.
“We don’t need to end this,” she says, every word dripping false sweetness.
“We both know it was never a real relationship, Capria.”
For the first time tonight, I see something like bitterness in her eyes. “Everyone thinks we’re together.”
“I don’t give a damn about labels. But even if we were together, I’m telling you, it’s over.”
“We’ve gone months without seeing each other before.”
“Yes. But we’ve reached a point where you want something I’ll never give you.”
“I don’t want children.”
I do my best to control the irritation. There’s no need to wound her. “But you want marriage. It won’t happen. Not with me.”
“I don’t care.”
“This conversation is pointless. I won’t change my mind.”
“Come home with me. One more night, Gianni, and then we can both go our separate ways.”
“Don’t do this to yourself. You’re a beautiful woman with an endless line of admirers. You’ll find someone soon enough.”
I don’t raise my voice, but she knows me well enough to see her persistence is useless. I won’t budge.
“Who said I don’t already have someone?” she asks, finally showing anger, letting a hint of real emotion bleed through her icy exterior.
“I don’t care if you do. I never asked for fidelity. But I don’t leave anything open-ended in my life. We’re finished, and this time, there won’t be any coming back. Move on. I’m not an option anymore.”
I notice she hasn’t touched her food, same as me, and, eager to end the night, I motion for the waiter.
“You were never an option, Gianni. You never truly wanted me. I never even had a real chance.”
I don’t contradict her. I have plenty of flaws, but lying isn’t one of them.
“Lost on your way home?” my older brother Tommaso asks when I climb up to the terrace of his winery’s restaurant.
It’s not open to the public. Few even know it exists. But once I discovered he’d had it built as an open-air retreat, a place to think, I began using it myself.
I drop onto the sofa beside him—a piece of furniture more suited for a poolside lounging than two men our size.
Below us, Tuscany sprawls out in the moonlight. Tonight, the vineyards can be seen stretching in the distance.
“I needed to unwind,” I finally answer. “Now I understand why you come here when you want to be alone. The peace is unmatched.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him watching me.
“What’s going on, Gianni?”
For a fraction of a second, I consider telling him the truth.
About the promise I made our grandmother. About the vengeance I’ve been carrying out in silence. About the Romani woman I’ve made myself responsible for.
But as with every other time I’ve thought of sharing the weight with him and Gaetano, I let it go.
They’re not just my brothers. They’re my best friends. And that’s exactly why I’ll never drag them into this.
If something goes wrong, I won’t risk them paying the price.
“I ended things with Capria,” I say.
“You never should have started in the first place.”
Tommaso never hid his dislike for her. The only one in the family who ever tolerated her was Giovanna, but then again, she likes everyone.
“Why now?”
I shrug. “Why not?”
“I’m not the best man in the world to talk about my problems, so I get that you feel the same. But I want you to know, I know you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
“You’ve been in this half-relationship with her for years. Comfortable with it. Drifting apart, fucking other people, then circling back. So why end it now? What changed?”
“She wants marriage.”
“The little witch told you that?”
“No. But I’m not an idiot. I figured it was better to put everything in its place before it got complicated.”
“That’s not why you’re here. You wouldn’t spare a second thought with that.”
I know he won’t push me any farther. It’s one of the things I love most about my older brother. He lets you decide, without pressing.
“Have you ever done something that made you question what you’re becoming?”
“If we’re talking about women, I’m a sinner on a daily basis, Gianni. I’ve got a place reserved in Hell, no matter how much Mamma prays for my soul.”
Yes, I know what he means. Like me, he’s left behind plenty of broken hearts. But what would he think if I told him about our grandmother? Our family’s story? The crimes I’ve committed in the name of honor and protecting our youngest sister?
I turn and meet his gaze. “I think Hell is where every Andresano will end up, brother. But my judgment will be harsher than anyone else’s.”
“Tell me what’s going on, Gianni.”
“It’s nothing. Just taking stock of my life. I’ll see you at Sunday lunch.”