Chapter 11
11
G ia
I sigh, and every part of my body tingles. My skin is still hot and sweaty, giving me steady throbs of post-sex awareness in my erogenous zones. Sex with Dante was better than I expected. Better doesn't even begin to cover it—exhilarating, vibrant, and unforgettable is more like it.
You're not every girl . I don't care if he uses this line with other women. It worked on me because, damn, in that moment, I believed them. I felt them. But I need to be realistic.
Dante moves on the bed, and I realize he's still here.
I turn my face to find him sitting and bring myself to do the same, pulling up the sheet with me.
"Are you going back to your room?" I ask, more like a suggestion. I like his presence, which is why he should leave immediately.
I can't get used to him, so I have to forget him. My life is messy enough as is.
"Yes," he says matter-of-factly, like he's not offended. Phew.
"Good. In case AJ wakes up," I add.
"I'm usually the one in a hurry to leave. It's interesting being on the other side," he says in an amused voice.
I chuckle. I bet that most women wouldn't shoo him from their beds minutes after sex. Especially… that kind of sex. He gave me what I needed, and besides the talking, I didn't have to ask. He felt it. He knew it. Thanks to him, I focused on him and the present, not on ugly memories that could ruin the moment. He gave me more than I expected… and the fact that he has that power, that gift, is a curse and a blessing because I can't get emotionally attached. "It's nothing personal. It's just that my life is chaotic in many ways."
He grabs his pants from the floor and slides them on, then sits on the chair across from the bed and stares at me. "Why can't you get pregnant?"
"Why does it matter?" I bite back, my voice so freaking defensive.
He shrugs. "Doesn't. I'm curious."
I shake my head, walking a fine line between telling him enough to make it sound truthful and denying it altogether. Or lying. Each option comes with its own set of problems.
"Is that why you don't like quiet?" he insists.
I bite my inner cheek. "I don't like thinking about things that aren't going to change. Instead of worrying about the past, I focus on the future." I wish I could believe my vague answer. I want to—wish it was true. If only things were so simple. But the more I hide my past, the more the memories slip through the cracks and spill into my brain.
"That's a nice platitude but not reality. The past always matters. Makes us who we are."
Well, I'm fucked for life. "You seem to speak from personal experience."
"I do. I had moments I wish I’d acted differently, and I didn't. Those moments define a lot of who I am and what I do." He takes a long breath and looks at the opposite wall. "With Andie, AJ's mom… we had a fling. Casual sex. Then, when she came looking for help, she was already nearing the finish line of her pregnancy. I told her to move in with me and offered my support as a father. But as days turned into weeks, she wanted more from me. I could tell she was buying into the playing house fantasy and wanted me as her husband, too."
I suck in my breath. I can see how easy it is for a woman to fall in love with Dante, especially if she's under the same roof and dealing with volatile pregnancy hormones. But that story didn't end happily, or I wouldn't be here. That story finished with a deceased mom and a single dad. "What did you do?"
"I quietly refused any affection. I know she wasn't happy, but I didn't love her. Then, the day when she went to meet her friends, the day she ended up getting kidnapped, we had an argument before she left. I never told anyone. I shouldn't have let her talk to anyone when I knew it was dangerous for her—given a mafia boss was pissed at me for killing his son," he says, looking away from me.
A mix of determination and veiled guilt coats his tone. He's a proud man, and I bet he's not used to admitting he's wrong. In his world, the world of mafia, that's a weakness.
"You couldn't have known."
He runs his fingers down his face. "I could have predicted it. But I felt so suffocated by her that I let her go, with security, to have a break. I needed a break too. Trust me, I wasn't being selfless."
"I understand." I loved it when Ciro could keep up a job and disappeared for long periods. Of course, I paid the price when he had bad days at work and took it out on me. But those hours without him almost made up for the insults and physical abuse. Then I remember that Andie was different—she wasn't an unhinged psycho like Ciro. She was a pregnant woman who hoped her partner would love her. My heart shrinks.
"Well, you shouldn't. My lack of foresight led to her being kidnapped, and she ended up dying during childbirth." He stares at me, and contempt touches his eyes. I don't need to be hard on him because he's obviously hard on himself.
Unsure of what else to do, I reach for his hand and squeeze it. "I'm sorry."
He doesn't move my hand but doesn't squeeze it back, either. "I don't know what I'll tell AJ when she's older. About how her mother died. About how it was my fault."
I squeeze his hand again, hoping a wave of comfort will roll through him. "It wasn't, though. She had pre-eclampsia, right? That could have happened anyway. Even if she had the most stress-free pregnancy."
"Yeah, but the stress from that kidnapping didn't help. It spiked her blood pressure like crazy."
Maybe he's right. I'm not a doctor, nor do I have much experience in complicated childbirths. Still, as I disengage my hand from him, I feel like trying one last time to soothe him. "I doubt Andie would want you to spend your energy blaming yourself over what happened. You should focus on continuing to be there for your daughter—which you have. That's the best way to move on in your case."
I should use the same mantra whenever I wonder what my mom would say if she found out I killed her husband. Given all that happened, I think she'd be on my side. Then I remember, as much as I loved my mom, she was kind in a way that was always too passive. If I remove the cloak of idealization I put on her memory, she was a bit neglectful of me. Of how men like my stepfather would affect me. Sadness crosses my chest. Now, it's too late to dwell on it.
"That's a nice way to look at it. You're young. You're na?ve."
I roll my eyes, disliking his condescending tone. "I'm not na?ve."
"That's right, you're not. You know what you are? You're smart. Got me talking and derailed the question I asked."
"Thank you."
"What happened between you and your ex?" he asks me.
I reach for my necklace and touch it. My pulse quickens. I thought I redirected the conversation successfully, but Dante isn't so easily fooled. He pays attention, and that could jeopardize me. I square my shoulders. "That's a question for another day."
"You told me you can't get pregnant. How certain are you?"
I clear my throat. As much as I don't want to, I must give him something. A nugget of personal information so he won't be suspicious of me. I let go of the necklace and clap my hands. "I had a hysterectomy. So, pretty certain."
"What happened?"
I glance at him, then scan the bedroom, looking for a magic portal out of this room, a way out to avoid this conversation. But I must elaborate since I told him the bare minimum. "I got beat up pretty badly. Lost lots of blood and an important organ, as you can see," I say, and run my fingers down my body, over the sheet, and land them on the place where a faint scar on my stomach is located. I don't think he's noticed it—the room wasn't bright enough when he gave me oral sex. Besides, I doubt he'd be focused on that, anyway.
"How?" he spits out the word, and his expression shifts, eyes squinting like he's ready to go kick some ass.
His attitude endears me, and I bite back a smile. I can't allow these feelings, these reactions to him, to take root. I never had a man defend me or stick up for me. But even if Dante's intentions go beyond fantasy, if he finds out the identity of the man who hurt me, I'm done. He'll fire me on the spot for lying to him if he doesn't do worse. I can't fool myself."I'm not talking about it anymore. I only gave you that information because I wanted to make sure you knew I didn't lie and am not planning on getting pregnant by a mafia boss or anything."
He cocks up his chin. "I believe you. Who was he?"
I wave him off. "I'm done talking for now. Someone from a different life. Don't worry about it."
He frowns, tilting his head to the side like he wants to know more. "I'm not worried, but I think he deserves retribution."
"Who's to say he didn't get it?" I ask in a light voice. The image of Ciro flashes in my head, but he's not in control like other times. He's groaning, falling to his knees in the kitchen, touching his right eye as blood gushes out. I blink. "Now, get out of my bedroom. AJ will wake up in an hour, and we all need rest. Go."
Tomorrow is another day.
Tomorrow… will be like tonight never happened.