“Can’t what?” I feel my hands curl into fists at my sides. “Can’t admit that nothing has changed? That what there was between us eleven years ago is still here?”
“Youleft.” Her voice slices through the air. “You had a choice, and you left, Elio. You made your decision.”
“That wasn’t a choice!” My voice rises, and she gives me a warning look. I force my tone lower again. “There was no choice for me, Annie. You know that. I didn’t want to leave.”
“But you did. And there’s no choice now, either, is there? It doesn't matter what's between us. You know it doesn't. Ronan would never—" She shakes her head abruptly. “I got over you, Elio. Don’t do this to me.”
Another step. God help me, I’m right in front of her now, so close that I can smell the sweet warmth of her skin under her perfume. Sunwarmed grass and sunshine and a decade-plus of separation that feels like a lifetime. Like we were someone else when I had everything in my hands and let it go.
“Did you?” I murmur, looking down at her. “Did you really, Annie?”
Maybe if I hear her say it one more time.Maybe that will fix me. Maybe I’ll believe her then. But I look into the blue pools of her eyes, at the way her pupils expand as she looks up at me, and I know that even if she says it again, she’ll be lying.
She’s not over me, just like I’m not over her. And right now, standing in the cool darkness of the hallway, it feels like it’ll never be over.
Like I’ll have to live with this torture for the rest of my life.
“Annie.” I breathe her name, lift my hand to touch her cheek. When my fingers brush her skin, I know I’ll kiss her. Our first kiss in eleven years. I won’t be able to stop myself.
My fingertips hover over her cheekbone, and I hear her indrawn breath.
“Elio?”
Gia’s voice comes down the hallway, echoed by the clicking of her heels. I drop my hand as if I’ve been burned, taking a step back, and then another. Annie’s chest is rising and falling quickly, her eyes fixed on mine, and she steps back as well.
“This isn’t over,” I murmur, feeling the tightness in my throat, my chest, theneedpounding through me. I’m harder than I can remember being in years, my entire body attunedto her, and I know that whatever we felt back then when we touched, it would have been a thousand times more intense now.
“Yes, it is,” Annie whispers. “It has to be, Elio.”
And then, just as Gia’s footsteps come closer, as I catch a hint of gold out of the corner of my eye, Annie turns and walks away, leaving me there in the darkness.
9
ANNIE
EARLIER THAT EVENING
The diamond necklace feels like a noose around my throat.
I adjust it for the third time as I study my reflection in the full-length mirror of my childhood bedroom. I’ve been working in my office here all day, so it made sense to just get ready here. But I hadn’t expected the memories that came flooding back as I dressed.
My eighteenth birthday party. Elio, dressed handsomely in a borrowed suit.A long hallway and the scent of his skin.
I swallow hard, facing my reflection as I smooth down the skirt of the custom-made midnight-blue gown I chose for tonight. I put extra effort into the choice, and I try not to think too hard about why that is—about why I might have wanted to look perfect. Why I care so much.
The off-the-shoulder neckline shows off my sharp collarbones and long, slender neck the fitted bodice and skirt that flares out into a mermaid silhouette make me look curvier than I am. The hairstyle that Leila helped me with earlier only adds to the effect, showing off the drop diamond earrings and the diamond pendant that I chose to go with the dress.
I look every inch the Irish mafia princess, a role that I try not to inhabit too often. I’m not comfortable with party planning—thank god Leila took to it fairly well—and crowds and small talk irritate me. I’ve never been a social butterfly, and I know by the end of tonight, I’ll be exhausted.
I look like everything I'm supposed to be and nothing like who I actually am.
Stop it,I tell myself, taking one final look in the mirror. Tonight isn't about me. It's about Elio, about celebrating his ascension to the position of don. It's about showing Boston that the alliance between our families is stronger than ever. It's about politics, power, and maintaining the careful balance that keeps this city from tearing itself apart.
Ronan needs me to be at my best, too. As his sister, we’re what remains of the O’Malley line in Boston, especially since Tristan won’t be here tonight. He needs me to put forward as good of a face as he will. I can’t allow myself to be distracted by Elio. To let an old crush undermine everything my brother has worked for in the wake of Rocco De Luca’s violence.
A soft knock on my door interrupts my thoughts. "Annie? You ready?"
Leila walks in, dressed in a cream-colored, strapless gown with lace insets at the neckline and along the drop pleats in the full skirt. It makes her skin glow like she’s lit with candlelight, her auburn hair standing out against the antique shade of the dress. She chose rubies for her jewelry tonight, family heirlooms that were my mother’s and are hers now—a pair of studs in her ears surrounded by diamonds and a necklace strung with rubies the size of quail’s eggs. She’s not really showing from her pregnancy yet, and the dress’s lines don’t give away any small bump that might be there.
