One of his thick eyebrows arches.“Do I need to meet this guy?Let him know there’s a new rooster in the henhouse?”
Something about his absurd choice of words makes me laugh, and that feels good.It might be the first time tonight I’ve genuinely laughed.“Don’t get your feathers ruffled,” I joke, and this time he laughs.He should do more of that.Or maybe not, since the way his eyes glow is a little too appealing.
This isalmostnice.
“Listen.”He clears his throat, his features pinching a little like he’s uncomfortable all of a sudden.
“Did I step on your foot?”
Another laugh.“No.I’ll let you know if you do.”Again, he looks uncomfortable.“I was a prick.I want to apologize.We’re in this together, right?It doesn’t have to be torture.”
Dang.I wasn’t expecting a serious conversation.“Right.We are in it together,” I muse, letting him guide me in a slow circle.“I shouldn’t take out my frustration on you, either.I know I’ve been doing that a lot.”
“Now that you mention it, you have.”Then he winks, and my heart does this strange fluttery thing.“But I get it.We were both forced into it.It’s nobody’s fault.”
There, we do not exactly agree.I’m not in the mood to get into a fight when things are actually running smoothly for once.Being this close to him, swaying gently to soft music, both of us dressed up and maybe a little buzzed, I don’t want to ruin it.
If I did, though, I would have to remind him I have nothing to do with the war between our families.In our world, women don’t play roles like that.We are supposed to sit on the sidelines and wait for our warriors to come off the field so we can feed and comfort them, stitch up their wounds, and praise them for their bravery.
I had nothing to do with the bloodshed or the violence.
But I have to make up for it.
The music fades, and it couldn’t happen at a better time.The telltale stinging behind my eyes means I need a minute to myself.“Excuse me,” I whisper once emotion swells in my chest and makes it tough to breathe.“I need to powder my nose.”
Dante opens his mouth like he’s going to ask a question, but he’s pulled aside by one of the event hosts, giving me the chance to slip away as gracefully as I can when what I want to do isrun.I have never felt so much like an animal in a snare, all because I was born a girl.I’ve never had a choice but to perpetuate the cycle my mom and grandma and her mother and all the women before them lived through.
The bathrooms are located outside the ballroom, where the air is cooler without so many bodies pressed in on each other.I didn’t realize how flushed I got until now, when the air hits my overheated skin.Before I can reach my refuge, a familiar voice washes over me.
“You looked good out there.”
It’s like being tortured.Hearing a voice I’ve missed for so long, being with someone who used to be the center of my world.Wishing he had shown up at any other time, because I’m already overwhelmed enough, trying to keep up this charade for the public.And it’s only the first of so many events.
Turning slowly, I fight to keep a carefully pleasant expression on my face in case anyone notices me talking with a man who isn’t Dante.“We should have lunch sometime,” I suggest softly.“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to catch up here, now.”
Those eyes.Looking up into them now, I remember all the times I’ve stared into them in the past.So many memories overlap until it’s tough to breathe.
He searches my face with a frown, closing the gap between us in slow steps.“So that’s how it is?Sophia, this is me you’re talking to.I know it’s been a long time, but some things can’t change.”
Not this.
Anything but this.
My heart can’t beat any faster without giving out on me.
I glance toward the doors to the ballroom and pray Dante doesn’t choose this moment to come out looking for me.“I’m married now.You… you went away.I didn’t know where you were.And that’s okay.Besides, whatever you did is obviously working for you.You look great.”
He only scoffs before reaching out and taking my hand, squeezing until my rings press painfully into my fingers.“Please.We both know it’s bullshit.A Vitali married to a Santoro?It’s political.”
Something inside me is dangerously close to breaking because, of course, he’s right, but I can’t tell him.It would be so nice if he were my friend right now, someone who would understand.But there is an intensity to him that makes me nervous and uncomfortable.“It’s done,” I whisper.“He is my husband.I am his wife.I need to try to build a life now.”
“You have to know I still love you.”
I can’t take this.
It’s too much.
“Enzo, don’t.Please.I’m sorry for the way things went.You’ll never know how sorry.”Looking down at our joined hands, I add, “You have to let go.Please.”
