Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Ican do this. I can face him.
Running my hands through my mermaid waves, I check my reflection in the mirror siding of the elevator on the way to Sly and Vinnie’s apartment.
My lips are painted in a soft pink matte lipstick, and the rest of my makeup’s kept light for a natural look.
My outfit’s simple tonight, too. I’m wearing a cream-colored sweater dress that hugs my curves, the hemline reaching mid-thigh, and I’ve paired it with the leather thigh-high boots I know Luciano goes crazy for.
Not that I dressed with him in mind. I didn’t.
I miss him.
When I walk into Vinnie’s place a few minutes later, warmth envelops me as the garlicky scent of Italian food wafts through the air. Shrugging off my jacket, I hang it neatly in her coat closet by the front door, smiling at Nixon as he spots me from across the room.
Light conversation flickers around the space, and I scan the group, noticing everyone is here except for Luciano. His absence makes my heart sink, but the smile on my face never wavers as I mask the hurt I’m feeling like I have been every day since he left me on that rooftop.
“You made me fall so deep in fucking love, and the entire thing was just some sort of sick game.”
His words haunt me, but I force myself to push them to the back of my mind.
“Hey,” I greet with a smile I know doesn’t reach my eyes, joining everyone in the luxurious gourmet kitchen.
I place my phone down on the marble counter when Cecilia and Vinnie come hug me. They both squeeze me tight, like they know I need it.
Barely looking up, a couple of the guys tip their heads in my direction and continue their conversation over what appears to be glasses of scotch.
“Can I get you some wine?” Vinnie asks, reaching over to where the wineglasses hang by their stems.
“White, please.”
“How was the rest of your night last night?” Vinnie pours as she asks. We got home from dinner early, before eight. I spent the rest of the evening snuggled deep under my down comforter with Mickey-D curled up by my side.
“Uneventful and exactly what I needed.” I take the glass from her outstretched hand, then take a sip. “How was yours?”
“Heaven. Sly and I took a bath, and he rubbed my feet until every bit of tension floated from my body.”
“Piccola ladra, why are you telling Raina about our private time together?” Sly laughs, coming up beside her and kissing her on the side of the head.
“I always do,” Vinnie says at the same time as I say, “She always does.”
“You should know better than that, Sly. There are no secrets amongst friends,” Cecilia playfully lectures.
“See, I told you, Sly Guy.” Sully wraps his arm around Sly’s shoulders, shaking him. “No secrets.”
Sly ignores him and turns back to Vinnie. “Are we ready to eat, amore mio? I will serve if we are.”
“Sure.” She gives him a quick kiss before addressing the group. “Everyone, let’s eat!”
We all shuffle into the dining room, and I bite my tongue to keep from asking about Luciano and his whereabouts, trying to remain indifferent about why he’s not here.
But honestly, it’s killing me. I’m dying to see him to find out if he’s as sad and miserable as I am. I know I’m the one who’s now avoiding his calls, but it’s only to prove a point.
And I’m starting to think it’s the wrong decision.
Luciano’s name hasn’t been mentioned once, so either everyone except me knows where he’s at, or he’s not coming. Either way, I’ve been left out of the loop.
When we’re all seated around the table, we begin passing the food around family style, scooping hearty helpings of Italian entrees onto our plates.
Everyone is oddly quiet. The only sounds are from the soft music playing over the sound system and the clinking of dishes.
“So, Raina.” Sully breaks the silence a few bites into his meal. “Any travel plans coming up?”
“Um, no?” That was random, even for him. “Why do you ask?”
He looks down at his watch, then clears his throat. “Just curious.”
“Have you guys thought of any more baby names?” Cecilia asks Vinnie and Sly from across the table in an obvious, and appreciated, attempt to take the attention off me.
But even her question feels off. She knows the answer—we just talked about it last night.
Unless something’s changed in less than twenty-four hours.
What is going on? The vibe feels weird tonight, and I can’t figure out if it’s because of someone’s absence, or because clearly no one wants to bring him up in front of me.
“We have a few in mind.” Sly brings Vinnie’s hand up to kiss. “But we haven’t settled on anything yet. We were considering keeping it a secret until her birth.”
“You’re going to make us wait?” I complain, sending a pointed look at my best friend before I crack a smile and put a heaping pile of Caesar salad onto my plate. “That’s not what you said at dinner last night! You said the second you two narrowed it down, we’d get to know.”
“Sly wants to keep it a secret, I don’t!” Vinnie laughs, nudging him in the arm. “I want to refer to her by her name the second we decide.”
“What if you pop that baby out and she doesn’t look anything like her name?” Sully raises his eyebrows practically to his hairline, then takes a bite of pasta.
“That actually happened to my cousin,” Nixon says nonchalantly, adding some butter to his bread. “Had a baby name all picked out and even got shit embroidered with it. Then she had him and immediately changed his name. Our grandma was pissed.” He chuckles at the memory.
“I suppose that could happen.” Vinnie scrunches her nose. “But I doubt it would. Once I pick something definitive, like a name, it’s set. I’m confident when we decide, it’ll be the one she’s meant to have.”
“All I’m saying is don’t expect new baby blankets if you pull a bait and switch.” Nixon grins, then returns to eating his chicken parmesan.
“Noted, amico.” Sly nods, then I notice him glance at his watch, too.
Another semi-awkward silence falls over the table, and for a few moments, we all just eat, but finally I can’t take it anymore. The conversation has been surface-level and flat all evening, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing something.
I feel like an outsider looking in.
“Okay, what is going on?” I dab at my mouth with the napkin, then toss it onto the table next to my plate. “Everyone’s acting super weird, and obviously Luciano isn’t here, so does someone want to cue me in on what’s going on? Or are you going to make me pry it out of all of you?”
One by one, my friends look at each other, communicating amongst themselves without a single spoken word.
And it just adds to my frustration.
“Luciano is running late,” Sully blurts, tossing his own napkin down on the table. “My jet got delayed.”
My head whips in his direction. “Okay? Good for him—he went somewhere. What does it have to do with the elephant in the room here? Why are you all acting like I might crumble at any second?”
But as I say that, inwardly I do. My mind spirals—where would he have taken Sully’s jet to?
I didn’t peg him as a man who would run away from his problems. Then again, I didn’t think he would avoid calling me either.
Could he be with another woman? Is that why they’re all acting strangely toward me?
Luciano is full of surprises lately, and I can’t say they’re good ones.
Sully sighs dramatically and rubs the back of his neck. “We’re not supposed to say.”
My heart doesn’t just fall to my stomach, it plummets at the speed of a crashing comet.
Nixon jabs his elbow into Sully’s arm. “You are literally the worst at keeping secrets.”
“I thought we established there are no secrets among friends,” Enzo mocks under his breath.
“Well, what am I supposed to do? She’s right, this is awkward as fuck.” Sully shrugs. “She’s going to find out soon, anyway.”
“Find what out?” I grit, pushing back tears. It feels like my worst fears are coming true, but logically I know Luciano isn’t that type of man. I look at Vinny expectantly, knowing she’ll tell me the truth, even if it hurts. “Where’s your brother?”
“He’ll be here,” she stresses. “Just trust me on this one. Enzo, will you pass the bread?”
A sardonic burst of laughter bubbles up my throat, and I shake my head, unable to believe that no one will tell me what the hell is going on.
Enzo glances at me and smirks, then reaches across the table to hand Vinnie the rolls as he asks, “So was the paperwork taken care of? Officially not not married?”
“Seriously, Zo-Zo,” Sully grumbles again, dipping his hand into the basket that Enzo still has hovering mid-table. He rips his roll in half and uses it to soak up the leftover salad dressing on his plate.
“Never was,” I answer. “Not that I would know where we’re at in the process since my lawyer won’t return my phone calls.”
“If the marriage wasn’t real, what more is there to do?” Nixon asks curiously.
“Great question.” I tuck a rogue strand of hair behind my ear, then look down at my plate for a moment. “I assume file more paperwork that basically tells the courts ‘just kidding!’”
No one has anything to say after that, and suddenly, I’d rather be anywhere else. This is the first dinner we’ve had all together since everything happened between Luciano and me. I thought it’d be hard to see him, and I’d be able to handle it, but him not even being here makes it so much worse.
Gently pushing back my chair, I stand, deciding I’ve had enough. “Thank you guys so much for having me, as always, but I’m exhausted. I’m going to head home.”
“You can’t!” Vinnie practically yells at me at the same time Sully jumps to his feet and shouts, “No way, you can’t leave!”
Their boisterous attempts to stop me have me hesitating. What the hell is going on? “Guys, I’m sorry, I just don’t have it in me tonight and I really would rather go ho?—”
But my sentence is cut short when Sly and Vinnie’s front door flies open, slamming against the wall with a sharp thud. In unison, our heads swivel in its direction, and a small gasp catches in my throat.
Luciano stands in the doorway with his chest heaving, soaked head to toe from the rain.
His white button-down clings to his chest and arms like a second skin, with rivers of water running down his exposed forearms from where his sleeves are rolled, and cradled in his arms is the biggest bouquet of pink flowers I have ever seen.
When our eyes collide, I see the nerves flash through them, even from where I stand across the room, and his voice is pleading when he says, “Don’t leave. Please.”