44. Audra #2
Jenna takes over. "She's so in love with her husband Marcello, it makes my teeth hurt."
I giggle, because she's one to talk. I've seen the looks between her and Massimo.
Gabe's curtains almost caught on fire from the heat between the two of them.
A shiver runs through me. A shiver of envy.
Because I never loved Pete that way. The only man who makes me feel that way is…
no, I'm not going to allow Gabe in here, not now.
"Anyway," Violet clears her throat. "Marcello ended up at my ICU station, shot and half dead and?—"
"She saved his life twice and nursed him back to health," Jenna winks, putting a subtle emphasis on the word nursed.
"So you weren't born into…" I break off, because what? The mafia? The mob? Crime family?
"La Famiglia? No." Violet shakes her head. "Well, technically I was, I just didn't know it."
"Turned out, her mother not only kidnapped her and lied about her dead father, she was also living a secret life and…" Jenna stops, noticing my expression. "Are you okay?"
I swallow a piece of bagel and cream cheese, the food suddenly tasting like cardboard. I gulp it down with a large sip of coffee, while fighting to keep all of it down.
"I'm sorry," I finally manage. "Just… ugh, I think I caught a stomach bug or something."
Ever since I found out about Pete's vasectomy, my stomach has been acting up. The revelation made me physically sick, and it still seems to be fueling the fire.
"My husband had a vasectomy behind my back and never told me," I blurt out. I have no clue why I'm telling them.
"What?" Jenna and Violet stare at me in unison.
"And I thought my ex was a piece of shit after he sold me to his coach to be raped for play time on the field." Jenna shakes her head.
I stare at her. "Carter Whitford?"
She nods.
Jenna nods. "Yeah, I know. He was the golden boy. Everybody loved him. Everybody thought he was a saint."
"I thought Pete was, too." I look at her, and something like commiseration passes between us.
Violet goes very still. "That's not a small thing, Audra," she adds, softer. "That's not something you just… get over."
"I'm not even trying to get over it," I admit, my fingers tightening around my coffee cup. "I'm just trying to understand it. Like… was he planning for a future without me? Or did he think he was protecting me from something?" I let out a hollow laugh. "Or did he just not think about me at all?"
"Men like that always think about only themselves," Jenna mutters. "They're charming on the outside, but rotten within."
I don't think Pete would have sold me to be raped by his coach, but I see Jenna's point. Where there is one secret… and the reasoning behind it is nothing but selfishness. I can see that now.
Violet sighs. "Our men might be killers and brutal, but one thing about them is that they would never lie to us. They would never betray us like that. Marcello would kill a man just for looking at me wrong."
A small noise from Jenna confirms that Massimo is the same way. I glance between them. "You trust them?"
"Not at first," Violet admits. "I was terrified of what he is. Of what his world means." Her eyes soften. "But he never lied to me. Not about the things that mattered."
"That's the line," Jenna adds. "Not whether they're dangerous. All men are in one way or another." She waves a hand vaguely, like that part is obvious. "It's whether they take your choices away."
That lands. Hard. Because suddenly it's not about Pete being safe. It's about Pete deciding what I got to know. What I got to choose. What kind of life I got to have. My stomach twists again with a mix of still lingering nausea and anger.
"But what does that make me?" I ask quietly. "Is it okay to feel this way… about another man I barely know… when my husband of six years is barely in the ground?"
"Well…" Violet starts.
"Yes," Jenna says at the exact same time.
They look at each other.
Jenna shrugs. "I'm not sentimental about wasted time."
Violet huffs out a breath. "It's not wasted. It's… part of who she is."
"Yeah," Jenna agrees. "And now she gets to decide who she is next."
Silence settles over us. Thick. Waiting.
Jenna's gaze sharpens on me. "So let's stop dancing around it. Where does Gabe fit into all of this?"
My heart stutters. "I don't?—"
"Don't," Jenna cuts me off. "You don't look like a woman who's confused. You look like a woman who's trying very hard not to admit something."
Violet watches me more gently, but just as intently. "What do you feel when you're with him?" she asks.
That should be an easy question. It's not. I open my mouth. Close it again. Because what do I say? That he makes everything sharper? Louder? More real? That when he looks at me, I feel like I'm not just existing, I'm seen?
"That's not fair," I murmur.
Jenna snorts. "Life's not fair. Answer the question."
I stare down into my coffee like it might have the answer. "He makes me feel…" I trail off, searching. Failing.
Violet leans forward slightly. "Safe?" she offers.
I shake my head immediately. Not safe, not like Pete did. Being safe with Gabe is something different entirely. It's like sitting in the middle of a hurricane, knowing nothing is going to touch me. "No."
Jenna's brows lift. "Interesting."
I swallow.
"Not safe," I repeat, quieter now. "But not… unsafe either."
"Try again," Jenna says, clearly enjoying this.
I shoot her a look. She grins. I exhale slowly, my grip tightening on the cup.
"He makes me feel like…" I stop, then force the words out anyway. "Like I'm standing on the edge of something. And I don't know if I should step forward or run."
I look away, then add, "Like I could fall."
"Or fly," Violet says softly.
I look at her. Her smile is small but knowing. Jenna leans back, satisfied. "Yeah. That tracks."
"That's not a good thing," I argue weakly.
"That depends," Jenna counters. "Do you trust him?"
I hesitate. Because that's the real question, isn't it? Do I trust Gabe? More than that, do I trust myself with him?
"I don't know," I admit.
Violet nods. "That's okay. Trust takes time."
Jenna rolls her eyes. "Attraction doesn't."
Heat creeps up my neck. "I'm not?—"
"Please," Jenna cuts in. "The way you said his name earlier? You're not subtle."
I groan, dragging a hand over my face. "Oh my God."
Violet laughs softly. Jenna leans forward again, and her voice drops just a fraction. "Let me ask you something else. When you're with Gabe… do you feel smaller?"
The question catches me off guard, but there is only one answer to it. "No."
"Less?" she presses.
"No."
"Like you have to hide parts of yourself to make him comfortable?"
Something tight in my chest loosens. "No," I whisper.
Jenna nods once. "Then that's your answer."
I stare at her.
"That's not an answer," I argue.
"It is," she disagrees simply. "It just scares you."
Violet reaches out, her hand brushing lightly over mine.
"You can love Pete," she says gently. "And still admit that what you feel for Gabe is different."
"Stronger," Jenna adds.
"Don't," I warn. But it's weak enough that not even I believe it.