“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”
“Yes, it was. And I get it. Who would ever want to be me?”
Fuck. I’m the worst sister ever.
“Stop that, Anna. I’m sorry, okay? Anyone would be lucky to have the qualities you have. I’m the black sheep here, not you. You’re… perfect.” Again, she flinches, as if the word physically hurt her. “Anna… that’s not what I meant to say either. God, why does everything I say tonight come out all wrong like I’m the resident bitch?”
“No. I get it. It’s okay,” she says softly, forgiving in a way I absolutely don’t deserve. “And you’re right. In most people’s eyes, I probably do come off as an annoying goody two-shoes. But if I accept you as you are, why can’t you accept me as I am?”
“But I do accept you.”
Her brows lift, sadness in the crease between them. “No, you don’t, Stella. You see me as weak.”
“You’re not weak,” I counter immediately, cupping her face in my palms. “You are the strongest one among us. It takes bravery to be this kind. It takes guts to show your vulnerability like you do. Us being jaded is a by-product of our family’s… environment. But not you. You see the potential this world still has to offer. I could never do that, Anna. That’s something to cherish and strive for, not something to look down on.”
“Really?” she asks, trying to blink back the tears watering her eyes.
“Really. I’m so damn proud of you. And it’s a testament to the girl you are that Mom wishes I could be the same. That’s not a reflection on you, just on how Mom judges me. I’m proud of you. I mean that with all my heart.”
Anna’s shoulders relax a little at the sincerity in my voice.
“So you don’t think I’m a victim?” she asks softly. “You once told Frankie and me that a woman only has two roles in this life—victim or villain. If that’s the case, doesn’t that make me the former?”
“No. Not you, Anna. You’re the exception to the rule.”
“Right,” she sighs.
“I’m serious. Your heart is good and pure. But that doesn’t mean you have to be a victim. Because guess what?” I wipe a fallen tear on her cheek that refused to be kept at bay.
“What?”
“You’re still a Romano. Which means that if life ever tries to crush you, you won’t break. You’ll rise to it. I’m as sure of that as I am of anything.”
Anna’s eyes light up as she throws her arms around me in a tight, grateful hug.
“Thank you. I needed to hear that today more than you know.”
“Well, if you ever forget it, I’ll always be here to remind you,” I say, hugging her back.
We only pull away when there’s a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” Anna asks, quickly wiping her tears.
“It’s me. Can I come in?” Marcello calls.
Anna hops off the bed and opens the door for him.
“Always.” She smiles sweetly at him.
I’m Anna’s favorite, obviously, but Marcello does his best to keep his runner-up status and not get bumped down by our other siblings.
“Hope I’m not interrupting, but you did say you were famished,” Marcello says as he walks in, carrying a tray with a full plate of mouthwatering porchetta and rosemary roasted potatoes.
Okay. So I lucked out in the brother department too.
“Thank you,” I tell him, practically running to take the tray out of his hands. I set it on the floor and start digging in.
“And for you, angel,” Marcello adds before slipping back out for a moment and returning with two bowls of ice cream. “I figured you might want something for that sweet tooth of yours.”
