Despite his warning, I continued. “We should all get along. We’re living in uncertain times. What can I do to make this right?” The words were bland, spoken with no emotion—words that had fallen from my lips over the years attempting to make peace with my sister when my parents forced us to get along.
Rosaria took a slow step forward. Even the ice clinging to her lashes and coat could never make this woman seem like an ice queen— everything about her screamed warm. She seemed scalding hot. The look in her eyes could have melted ice.
“You do not see,” she hissed at me. “You make the rest of us look like fools. You act as though you are perfect, when we all know you are not. You are weak, in so many ways.”
“I’m not,” I said. “Perfect. Or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I only do what feels right for my family. I just don’t understand this—” I made a motion between the two of us, referring to the tension.
“Your husband refuses what is rightly his because of you. You are no woman who belongs inourfamily. Look what you have done! All thistrouble. Just tonight alone.”
“Rosaria,” Rocco said, his tone on the verge of snapping. “It is not her who is causing the trouble. It is you.”
Out of all the things he could have said, that was the worst. He might as well have hit her point blank in the face with a snowball that I’d built. It only reinforced her point.
Before I could blink, her hand came up and she slapped him across the face. The sound of it seemed to echo and leave a loud ringing in my ears.
It was no timid blow. She’d given it her all.
His face had turned to the side at the impact. He stared at the street for a few minutes, not even blinking, while the rest of us were frozen in complete silence.
Lifting his head, nodding once to his brothers, he turned and left. I heard him call for some of the men who had been waiting outside, detaching from the night, giving them orders to see his wife home.
She ran after him, calling his name, regret seeping out of every cry.
Brando and I waited until his brothers left before we started to move.
* * *
Perfect comebacks always come too late. Though I knew that even if they would have come at the perfect time, I’d made the decision not to use them.
Still, as we moved down the street, half of my brain continued to think up amazing ripostes that ranged from witty to funny to downright cruel. I even imagined the tone and the look on my face as I delivered the clever lines. The compassionate half of my brain was at odds with the mean half, though.Let her believe what she wants. You owed her that.
Charlotte had taught me not to fight for what was already mine. My sense of peace. Brando had taught me that if someone decided not to like me, it was their issue, not mine.
From those two lessons, I’d taught myself that even if I couldn’t change opinions of me, I could change how I reacted. That stellar piece of life advice was what had ultimately stopped me from returning her insults.
Did I hope Rosaria would come around? I did. I loved her as though she were my sister. Perhaps that was why I wasn’t taking this as hard as I once would have. My definition of sister had always been Charlotte.
Kicking some snow, noticing how beautiful the lights of the town looked in reflection, I blew out a long breath and smoke rushed out in an icy cloud.
“Scarlett.”
“Hm?”
“If ever I hear those words out of your mouth again, there’ll be trouble between us.”
I stopped walking. He did too. Our hands were still connected. We both wore gloves, but I could feel the heat coming from underneath the fabric of his.
“What words?”
“‘I apologize if I’ve wronged you.’” His breath came out in a whiskey-scented cloud of smoke.
I went to wave him off, but he caught my wrist, applying enough pressure to let me know he meant business.
“Sometimes we have to give in to make things better, Brando.”
“Not at your own expense. Not when you’ve done nothing wrong.”
I nodded once. “It’s true what people say. About hard times and hard people teaching us lessons and making us stronger. It’s hard to believe this, but I’m almost thankful for Charlotte. If she would have been nice to me, then I’m not sure if I could deal with this life.”
