Chapter Taryn #2
“Stephanie’s right,” Gráinne says hesitantly.
“It’s like you don’t want anyone to really know you.
You never share much with us.” At my look of hurt, she rushes on.
“You’ve been a great friend, Tare. Always there.
Always listening. God knows I wouldn’t have survived it when Luca and I briefly broke up last year without you and Elizabeth.
” She pauses, I’m sure thinking back to how we practically babysat her to make sure she ate.
“You are obviously a person who cares deeply, and I’m so glad you came into my life.
I’m sorry I never made you feel safe enough to tell me how you feel about things.
Like, I had no idea you wanted to leave New York…
or be an attorney.” She swallows and her eyes tear up.
“I need to learn to be a better friend.”
“I—no! You’ve been great. You all have.” I shake my head.
“It’s not that I don’t want to be close to you all.
You’re my besties. Really. I feel lucky to have you all.
” I look down at my hands. I can’t meet their eyes.
Those things Gráinne just said? I blurted all of it after too many drinks during our girls’ night out.
I had no intention of sharing all of that.
God. They are right. I am closed off. And, maybe I am angry.
It’s so hard to talk about this with them.
They have all bought into the life we were born into.
Stephanie willingly dates a guy in the clan and puts up with all of his bullshit.
Hell, Gráinne pretty much doubled down on this life when she got engaged to a mafia heir.
She’s about to be a mafia wife. A lifetime of dinner parties and shopping.
I can’t imagine she’d understand my desire to leave. My longing for control.
“Okay, ladies, finish up,” Gráinne instructs as I fight to compose myself.
“Then, we’re going into the living room to hash this all out.
We want details on what Cole’s done now.
” At Stephanie’s alarmed look, Gráinne clarifies.
“Or at least let us plan ‘Operation Lose the Dickhead’ because at the very least, he needs to learn a lesson. And I want to talk about how to best deal with Valentina, Liz, so that we don’t give you a panic attack.
Because this nonsense can’t continue. And Taryn, maybe talking more about how you really feel about Liam will be good for you.
You obviously don’t hate him as much as you’d like us to believe.
You called us here to listen. We want to listen. ”
“Do you have so many words because Luca never talks?” Stephanie asks her with a smirk, and we all burst out laughing.
Gráinne shakes her head. “He talks,” she says with a soft smile, “to me.”
Steph nods with a grin and we quietly go back to eating our eggs and bacon, slowly sipping on hot beverages. Stephanie is mainly pushing her food around on her plate, but the rest of us just munch quietly, contemplative. When I can’t stand another second of the silence, I stand.
“Okay, I’m headed into the living room.” I want to get this over with. Maybe if we focus on Stephanie and Elizabeth, I won’t have to share my feelings. I have never been good at that.
I have to guess it’s because I’m one of six.
If we went around blathering about our emotions all the time, it would have been a difficult household to manage.
Something bothering you? “Shake it off” was our mantra.
After all, we all knew the rules and the punishments for breaking them.
There was never a need to come undone when you got caught.
We all teased each other mercilessly. No one cried or tattled.
If things didn’t go your way? So what? Life isn’t fair.
We never questioned that philosophy. At least, not until I did.
I listen as Stephanie shares that she finally got real evidence of Cole cheating, although she refuses to go into detail. She talks about how hard it is to feel like she was never enough for him, and we console her as best we can. She’s the total package, and it’s definitely his loss.
She wipes a tear then chuckles. “Yeah, fuck him.” I smile hearing her use the f-bomb. It’s not her usual style, but I’m thrilled to see her finally acknowledging Cole’s infidelity.
“Totally. Fuck him. Asshole,” I contribute.
“Dickhead,” Gráinne seethes.
“Asshat.” Elizabeth nods, and I grin at her choice of words. Not sure I’ve heard her curse before either. I must be rubbing off on them.
My smile drops when Elizabeth goes on to divulge that she understands how Steph feels because of how her first love ended.
Apparently, some jerk broke up with her right after she gave him her virginity in high school.
Claimed she wasn’t “fit” enough for him.
That, coupled with her stepsister’s taunts about her weight, put her in a bad place for a long time.
“I know how it is,” she whispers as she plays with the hem of her sweatshirt, “to feel like you’re not enough.” She reaches for Stephanie’s hand. “I had to work on loving myself, and I admit it’s been hard. But, it is possible. I’m in a better place now. You will heal. It just takes time.”
Stephanie leans across the couch to hug her, and my heart clenches. I’m so lucky to have these women in my life.
How do I tell them that my fear isn’t the same as theirs? I don’t worry that I’m not enough. No, my fear is that I’m too much. I’ve always been too reckless, too opinionated, too driven. Too…me.
“I’ve never felt that I fit in here,” I whisper, drawing my friends’ attention.
I’ve reverted to picking at my cuticles, an anxious habit I haven’t succumbed to in years.
“I’ve always had so many dreams. And, none of them were about money, or power, or any of the things that our families seem to fixate on. I wanted away from it all.”
Stephanie moves across the living room to sit next to me on one of our mismatched arm chairs. “Go on, Tare. What did you dream?”
“I… I… You know I want to be a lawyer. A defense attorney.” I sigh.
“Not because I want to defend criminals.” Like our families.
It sits unsaid but understood in the room.
“I believe everybody deserves their day in court, regardless of their bank account or who they know. I think everyone deserves the same chance at redemption.” I swallow.
“Wait,” Stephanie interrupts me. “There are women with careers who are part of the mafia.” She whispers the last word as though she is saying, Voldemort.
“Clan,” Gráinne and I correct at the same time, then grin.
“Okay?” she asks. Yeah. I suppose it doesn’t matter.
“But, I’m not understanding why you think you can’t become a defense attorney and help people as part of a clan?
” She emphasizes the last word almost comically, as though the idea that we’d distinguish such a thing is nonsensical.
I can tell you, where I come from, it’s about heritage, so it means quite a bit.
I know that’s why Gráinne and I both blurted out the term.
It’s been ingrained into our psyches since we were born.
I sigh. “Belonging to the clan means that it always comes first. Our strength comes from loyalty and shared purpose. And, honestly, I can almost respect that. Almost. But it also means you lose your freedom. This marriage is proof of that. I hoped I could fly under the radar. Experience something new.”
I swallow hard before continuing, because I know this next part will be upsetting to Gráinne.
“I don’t want to just be a mob wife. Always being told what to do.
While there are some women who work in our clan, none have big jobs.
They all work at the church, or for charities, or in back office jobs at one of the clubs.
” I bite my bottom lip. Sigh. “They raise mobster kids, throw mobster parties, and listen to their mobster husbands. I could never willingly let someone boss me around like that. I can’t be that shallow person. ” I refuse to meet their eyes.
“Does it have to be like that with you and Liam?” Stephanie asks. “Has he tried to boss you around?”
I laugh without humor. “I know you all think he’s this ‘nice guy.’” I make air quotes around the words. “But he’s been pretty demanding at times.”
“How?” Gráinne sits up straighter. A line of concern mars her normally perfect forehead.
“Well, he’s pretty insistent that we won’t be seeing other people.”
Elizabeth giggles. “Yeah. What a jerk.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay. Okay. But he also hasn’t said he plans to support me being a lawyer.”
Steph nods. “Is he going to stand in your way?”
I consider this. “I don’t know.”
“At the risk of pointing out the obvious,” Gráinne says drolly, “maybe you should ask him.”
“I shouldn’t have to ask him!” I shout, and then sink back into the couch cushions at my friends’ alarmed expressions. “Sorry. It doesn’t matter anyway. Like I said, it’s not like women get to have real jobs in the clan anyhow.”
“I’m not sure about that. I want a lot of things for my future,” Gráinne shares.
“I’m going to medical school after graduation.
” When I open my mouth, she cuts me off.
“I don’t know where yet. I take the GMAT in a few weeks and will start applying to medical schools in the fall.
I’m hoping for NYU. But, I’ll apply to some other programs in the city as well.
I’m still a junior, remember? I have a little more time than you do before graduation. ”
“I had no idea you wanted to be a doctor.” I can’t hide my shock.
“I don’t talk about it a lot. Before my father passed away—” She pauses.
Swallows. “I didn’t think it would be a possibility.
He had other ideas for my future, and questioning him was impossible.
But, he’s gone now, and Rowan is all for it.
So is Luca. In fact, he keeps signing me up to get information from various medical school programs. Every time I turn around, more information about clinical summer internships magically appears in my inbox.
He’s been great. Speaking of which, Luca is another thing I want for my future.
And I know what line of work comes with him.
As long as I get Luca, I’m okay with that.
So, yes, I’ll be a mafia wife. And a doctor.
Hopefully, one day—well into the future—I’ll also be a mother.
I don’t have to choose. I don’t believe you will either. ”
I’m speechless. A tear runs down my cheek before I can stop it.
Is it even possible that I’ve set up some sort of false dichotomy in my mind?
Could I get to have my family, a decent husband, and my career?
Could Liam be more than I imagined? Could we be happy together?
I hadn’t considered it to be a remote possibility—before.
“I… I…” Nothing comes out. Gráinne moves across the room and tentatively hugs me.
However, it’s Stephanie who tightly embraces us both before Elizabeth wraps her arms around us all, so that we are in a big huddle.
Then, to my utter embarrassment, the tears start to flow.
I haven’t had the good cry that I apparently needed because I’m a snotty mess, and my friends don’t seem to mind one bit.
In fact, they grip me tighter. They spend the next several minutes holding me as I sob.
All my assumptions. All my plans. It feels good to let it all out.
“What happened?” The deep voice of Gráinne’s fiancé booms across my living room.
We all jerk our heads to look at him, wiping our eyes. I have no idea how he got into my house.
“Hey, baby, why are you here?” Gráinne asks him in a hoarse voice, still pressed against my side.
“What happened?” he repeats tersely. I shudder because, damn, he looks scary. He’s obviously ready to go to war with whoever made Gráinne cry. I realize now that my sobbing set off her own tears at seeing me in pain.
She shakes her head. “I just have the best friends in the world. That’s all.” She gives me a squeeze and him a soft smile before turning her shining eyes to each of us in our little group.
He continues to examine her from across the room. “The door was open.” His eyes find mine. “You need to start locking your door.”
“Um, yeah. Okay.” St. A’s is probably one of the safest places we can be, but I don’t argue. I just want him to stop glaring at me.
Gráinne extracts herself from our gaggle of arms and makes her way to him. She throws her arms around his waist. “Why are you here?” she asks again, as she nuzzles into his chest.
“You weren’t answering your phone,” he accuses. Then, weirdly enough, he takes a deep inhale of the top of her head and seems to breathe out a sigh of relief. “I needed to see that you were okay, Angel.”
She hugs him again then steps back from his embrace.
“I’m okay. Really. My phone is still in my purse.
I’m sorry to have scared you. The girls and I needed to process a lot today.
” At his look of utter confusion, she smiles.
“I’m going to stay to help clean up our kitchen mess and then I’ll see you at home, okay? Everything is fine.”
She’s obviously tamed the beast because he just nods and closes the gap to kiss her softly. “Take your time. Sorry to interrupt.” He looks to me. “Lock your door.” And with those parting words, Luca Larozzi leaves my living room. Dear God. He always looks ready to hurt someone.
“Um, wow.” Stephanie chuckles. “We, uh, better lock the door.” She gives a four-finger salute to the empty foyer that Luca just left. For some reason, we all start to giggle. All the stress from the prior conversation gets released in the form of laughter.
“There are some good guys in the mafia.” I smile, looking at Gráinne. She obviously has a guy who would move heaven and earth to keep her safe.
“There are,” she agrees. “And also in the clan. Good can take on lots of forms, Tare. Some may even surprise you.”
I nod. Nothing is as I thought it was, and I feel more unbalanced than before.
What would happen if I let go of my anger?
Could I realize my future dreams while being married to Liam?
What if I gave him a chance? I’m still not sure, but the prospect isn’t nearly as implausible as it seemed only a few hours ago.