My eyes widen, and there’s an ache deep in my chest, knowing the amount of pain Angelo must’ve endured. “I’m so sorry.”
“Life’s a bitch, right?”
“I’m Tilly.” I hold out my hand. “I’m opening the cupcake shop next door. I met Angelo earlier, and he told me he ran the bar with his siblings.”
“Daphne.” She shakes my hand. “Our brother Lucio is around here somewhere, but Vinnie’s away at college, so you’ll barely see him.”
She is absolutely beautiful, just like her brother. The genes in this family run deep.
“My parents live above the bar, so even if we’re closed, don’t hesitate to knock if you need something.”
“How quaint,” Roger murmurs against his glass.
“Need anything else?” She eyes Roger and the sweater he has draped over his shoulders like he just walked out of the latest issue of GQ.
“We’re good, Daphne. Thanks.”
As soon as we’re alone, Roger gives me a look.
“What?” I shrug.
“He’s single.”
“He’s widowed,” I remind him. “There’s a difference.”
Being single by choice makes dating easier than being robbed of love.
“So are you,” he reminds me.
Like I could’ve forgotten. But Mitchell’s death is always there, hanging over my shoulders just like Roger’s ridiculous sweater.
“He still wears his ring.”
Roger raises an eyebrow. “And?”
“He’s not ready.” I shake my head.
It took me years before I could remove my wedding band after Mitchell died. I sobbed the day I finally tucked it away for safekeeping, trying to put my past behind me so I could move forward. I felt like I was betraying his memory, but it was my first step in the rest of my life.
Although Mitchell had taken his last breath, I still had a life to live even if I couldn’t imagine going on without him.
4
Angelo
“The cupcake chick was looking for you last night.” Daphne gives me a shitty smirk from across the dinner table.
“Cupcake chick?” Ma asks, glancing between the two of us and giving Daphne the reaction she wanted.
“You know, Ma. The new store opening next to the bar.” Daphne’s still staring at me, wanting to open a can of worms that isn’t even there. “She asked for you.”
“Daphne, don’t make it something it isn’t.”
“She looks mighty sweet too,” she adds, twisting that knife a little deeper in my gut.
“Is she single?” my ma asks.
“Stop,” I growl.
