Chapter 12 Aurelia #2
“Oh, you’re so beautiful!” She hugged me hard and squeezed me tight.
The gesture was so unexpected I let out a laugh as I looked at Constantine over her shoulder.
He shrugged.
“That’s sweet of you to say,” I said. “Thank you. And thank you for having me.”
“No, no, no.” She pulled away and gripped both of my hands in hers. “You’re welcome here, honey. I’m so happy you’re here. Your hair is just beautiful. And you’re nice and tall—”
“Ma.” Constantine put his hand on his shoulder. “We’re holding up the line. Can’t let people go hungry, right?”
“Of course,” she said. “You’re right. We’ll catch up later.” She moved farther down the line, letting everyone else get their food first.
We walked a few steps forward, the people ahead of us slowly making their way to the kitchen, where the food was on display so people could load up their plates.
All the dread I’d felt at meeting his family suddenly felt ridiculous because they’d all been so lovely.
The matriarch was usually the least accepting, but she’d brought me into her arms like I was welcome before she even met me. “You have a really nice family.”
“Yeah, they’re pretty great.” He moved into me, his arm curling around the small of my back, embracing me in the presence of his family the way he did when we were alone. “A little bit drunk and crazy, but still great.”
“I’m excited to meet your dad.”
There was a quick hesitation on his face, his eyes shifting away.
I knew him well enough to know that wasn’t the right thing to say. “Oh, did he pass away?”
“Yeah, he’s been gone awhile.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You didn’t know.”
A man had never called me sweetheart and he probably called everyone in his bed by the endearment, but I still loved it when he called me that. It made me feel special, even if it was overused.
He quickly changed the subject. “So, if you really want my family to like you, I have some advice.”
“I’m listening.”
“Eat. A lot. It’s the greatest compliment you can give my mother.”
“I already eat a lot. You’ve seen me.”
He chuckled. “That’s not a lot. You’ll see.”
We were the next in the kitchen, every flat surface containing a platter of fish, a fresh salad, roasted potatoes, lemon-crusted asparagus, octopus, marinated red shrimp in olive oil, giant pots of pasta in homemade ragu, arancini, freshly baked bread .
. . more things than I could even see. “How did they make all this?”
“Generations of experience.” He handed me a clean plate. “Ladies first.” He gave my ass a playful smack.
“Con!” A woman with dark hair moved over to him and gave him a hard hug.
“Hey, sis.” He gave her a one-armed hug and kissed her temple. “Everything looks good.”
“Well, I almost killed her to make it.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I heard when we walked in. Where are the boys?”
“With Aunt Chiara. Probably climbing on her like a tree.”
“I’ll help out after I eat. Beatrice, this is Aurelia.”
I awkwardly held the plate as I extended my hand to shake hers. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
Beatrice clearly wasn’t expecting me like her mom was, because she quickly glanced at Constantine before she looked at me again, a silent conversation passing between them.
“You too. I’ve heard so many stories about the two of you in town, so I’m glad I can finally put a face to a name.
” She didn’t hug me like his mother did, didn’t even try to shake my hand.
“Enjoy the food. I almost killed my mother when I made it.”
I laughed, but I would have laughed a lot harder if it weren’t obvious she was disappointed by me.
“Con, we’ll catch up later.” She left the line and headed toward the terrace.
I moved around the kitchen and made my plate, trying to take a bit of everything because a home-cooked meal was rare to come by. In Rome, I was usually too busy to cook, so I ate out most of the time, stopped by a little shop and got a slice of Roman pizza before I continued on my way.
Constantine and I found an empty table outside and took a seat.
It was quickly filled by other people, and I was glad none of them was his sister.
When I looked across the terrace, I saw her sitting with a woman her age, a young boy in her lap that I assumed was her son.
The woman looked out of place with everyone there because of the way she sat, arms tight across her stomach, no food or drink in front of her, purposely staring straight ahead like she didn’t want to see anything else.
Maybe his sister didn’t dislike me. Maybe she was just occupied with this cousin or friend of hers. Maybe it had nothing to do with me.
“What do you think?” Constantine asked, arms on the table as he inhaled his food. When we went out to dinner, he executed better manners, but when he was at home, he let his guard down.
“Fucking delicious.”
He patted my thigh under the table as he stabbed his fork into another piece of fish. “Attagirl.”
When dinner was finished, I ventured into the house to use the restroom. I passed the kitchen on the way, and his mother’s words made me stop in my tracks.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” She didn’t bother to keep her voice down. She must have assumed everyone was on the terrace while she prepared the cannoli. The smile in her voice was so obvious I could picture it on her face.
“Stunning,” another woman said.
“And her hips. Did you see them?”
“Perfect for babies,” the other said. “Beautiful and tall . . . she’s a dream.”
I couldn’t believe they were talking about me. I was certain no one had ever said so many nice things about me—ever.
“I’m happy for you, Sofia,” Aunt Chiara said. “It’s unfortunate what happened with Isabella.”
“Constantine is too smart for that,” his mother said. “He knows a good woman when he sees one. I trust his judgment. I’ll ask Pope Zephyrinus to pray for Constantine. He’s thirty-three. It’s time to slow down.”
She knew the pope?
“You know how men are in this new generation,” Aunt Chiara said. “Think they have all the time in the world . . .” They changed the subject, talking about people I didn’t know, so I continued on to the bathroom.
I tidied up my hair and makeup and did my business.
When I left the bathroom, I took the wrong hallway and ended up in the other wing of the house.
It had its own terrace doors from a separate sitting area that no one occupied, so I didn’t think it would matter if I used it.
The windows on either side were open to let the sea breeze inside, and I could hear conversations from everyone having a good time and drinking.
And then I heard Constantine. “We really have to do this here?” He spoke in a way I’d never heard him before. He didn’t raise his voice and yell, but his tone was fucking ice cold.
I stopped in my tracks and backed up a couple of steps, finding him talking with someone apart from the crowd. It was the woman I’d spotted with his sister at one of the other tables, and she looked as miserable now as she had then.
“I just think it’s disrespectful, Con.”
“Disrespectful?” he exclaimed. “This is my mother’s house. This is my family. I can do whatever I damn well please. I can bring whomever I want.”
“And you didn’t think of my feelings at all?”
“No.” The viciousness in his eyes was something he’d never shown to me.
It reminded me of the way Enzo had looked at me toward the end of our relationship, like he wanted nothing to do with me.
“Because your feelings aren’t my responsibility, Isabella.
They aren’t my problem. The only feelings I care about are Aurelia’s, and the last thing I want is for her to feel uncomfortable.
Unless that’s what you’re hoping for? That she comes back from the bathroom, asks me about this conversation, and then I tell her about all this nonsense because you know I won’t lie to her, and then she walks away because she doesn’t want the headache. ”
“So, this is serious?” She winced like he’d already given her the answer she didn’t want.
“No.”
“Then why would you bring her—”
“It’s not serious yet. But it will be.”
Her head made a distinct jerk as she looked away. It was as if he’d slapped her with an invisible hand. “You’re an asshole.”
“Oh, I’m an asshole?”
“You slept with me, dangled us in front of me like a fucking carrot—”
“Don’t rewrite history. You’d just gotten divorced and said you wanted one night.
I did not give you any indication that I wanted us again.
I will never want us again. And don’t act like I didn’t make that crystal fucking clear before we hooked up.
Now I would do anything to take it back because clearly that was a fucking mistake—”
He stopped talking when she started to cry, when her bottom lip trembled and she did everything she could to stop herself from crying.
Constantine bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing at the destruction he’d caused. Fortunately for them, everyone was too drunk and absorbed in the fun to notice the soap opera playing out in the corner.
She took a deep breath and brought herself to a state of semicalm. “We were practically kids at the time, Con. Why can’t you just forgive me?”
Now, when he spoke, he was calm, like he really felt bad that he’d made her cry. “I have forgiven you, Issy.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“Just because I forgive you doesn’t mean I want to be with you.”
“We were so young. It was a stupid mistake.”
“We weren’t that young. Girls were always throwing themselves at me, and I could have fucked all of them and you wouldn’t have ever known.
But I never did.” He closed his fist to his chest. “Because I’m fucking loyal.
Because I fucking loved you. This is so stupid to even talk about right now because it’s been nine goddamn years. ”
“And we’re still meant to be together, Con.”