My eyes scanned the property—and there she was, a haven in the distance. Alessandra Ponte. Her eyes were narrowed against the sun, and she was watching Massimo Fausti like he might disappear on her. Sometimes he’d return the look, but other times, he only nodded at her and left her in the cold.
I’d asked Scarlett about how she felt when Chloe and Massimo first met. Because…I couldn’t understand how such a smart woman, Alessandra Ponte, was hellbent on having a man that was closed off to the rest of the world, even if he was considered available. Even though Chloe was the opposite of Rosaria, almost too meek for the world, much less the Fausti family, Chloe and Rosaria had one major thing in common: both were off limits, emotionally, to a certain degree.
I wasn’t sure if Massimo was pining after Chloe because of this, or because he was chasing a relationship that would bring his family back together. Either way, both had roots to what his parents had struggled with: Rosaria being emotionally present. And Rocco craving to love and be loved in return.
Scarlett had sighed and said, “What I feel isn’t always…forever, if that makes sense. I’ve thought about the situation a lot—Massimo and Chloe’s relationship. As a young girl, Chloe was spunky, and if she would’ve stayed on that path…it wouldn’t have been as hard as it was for her to assimilate into the Fausti lifestyle. But…things happen to us that change our paths.
“Chloe became more introverted and began depending on her art to feel…safe. She had a crush on Matteo when they were both in grade school. I never thought much of it. I knew even back then it was just that, a childhood crush. Chloe and Matteo became friends. In a small town like Natchitoches, everyone knows everyone, and that doesn’t stop when adulthood arrives. The sheriff had been awful to Brando?—”
“The same sheriff whose wife was killed by Luca?”
She nodded and tucked a strand of auburn hair peppered with pure silver behind her ear. “And unborn child.”
“That’s so awful.”
She nodded again, but there was a far-off look in her eyes that made me set a hand on her arm to stop her.
“What?” I’d asked.
She shrugged. “We all know Luca did it to save Brando from Marzio taking him into the family.”
“Because Maggie Beautiful would’ve fought for him.”
Scarlett’s eyes searched mine. “You’re very perceptive—it feels like you’ve been a part of this family forever.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Even better than good, especially for you.” She waved a hand. “Back to Luca. I often think of the situation, and it makesme feel like an awful person, always has. Because…if Luca wouldn’t have done what he did, Brando would’ve been taken, and even though I do believe our paths would’ve crossed again at some point, I’m almost positive my husband wouldn’t be the man he is today.”
“You mean he’d be another version of Rocco.”
“Just from the time Luca spent with Brando before he was jailed, my husband had a hard time smiling.”
I’d noticed that. Brando didn’t smile as easily as his brothers. He was the most serious out of them, even though he had no problem just being their…brother. My husband was the opposite. He had no problem smiling, but he had serious issues letting go of the hierarchy and just being their…brother. It seemed like everyone had something to bring into adulthood from childhood, even if the Fausti men never considered themselves young. Point still stood. They all carried over something from when they were moldable enough to be formed. But I got Scarlett’s point.
If fate hadn’t intervened, her husband wouldn’t have been her husband, or the version of him she fell in love with. I thought about that with Rocco too. Except…when Rocco and I found each other, it was at a time when I’d almost lost him to the claws of a haunting ghost.
Maybe that would’ve been Brando Fausti—he would’ve been lost to a ghost, when the warmth of a living woman who he’d always craved felt like a world away. I didn’t think Scarlett could’ve overlooked Brando Fausti having a woman he’d committed his life to before her. Maggie Beautiful had confided in me that Scarlett wasn’t the most trusting of women when it came to men.
Scarlett herself had told me that, too, after we arrived in Sicily, just as she had confided in me about feeling torn about what Luca did to the sheriff’s wife, only because it had involvedher husband and how it would’ve set them on different paths if the family had gotten a hold of Brando before she did.
It was all extremely complex, especially if a finger traced back the line and found the different sources that led there. It was so good to have Scarlett beside me, though, and she had told me she felt the same about me—a woman who could understand.
Maybe it was because we were both touched, or maybe it was because our husbands were so close in line to be the next rulers of this family, and we were the women who loved them beyond measure.
But even though the women were all banding together, we were all lost to our own pockets of sadness, anger…confusion. Confusion, because without our husbands, without being the ones to help them navigate this war, we were lost. Frozen in a fear so deep inside of us, sometimes we did work on the property, but as our hands worked, our minds were always thinking the worst—what if…
It was a possibility I refused to accept. The church on the property, facing the sea, was constantly filled with women on their knees, tears streaming down their faces, praying for healing of the heart before it was even broken. It was broken enough to have them so far away and in danger’s way because men were power hungry to rule a family that was known to be as ruthless as they were romantic.
Candles constantly swayed with the gentle breath of the sea, taking me back to the church we were married in on Aria Island.
And maybe it was this part of the world, or my husband’s family, but we were all given clothes that took us back to a different time, a simpler time, but also a complicated time—as uncertain as the time we were in. Veils were draped delicately over our heads, shielding our hair out of respect, as we all faced the cross above us, rosaries dangling in our hands in the dim light, lightening our weights by giving the heavy burdens over.
I craved that peace. I craved it almost every second of the day.
I looked down at my stomach, wondering if what I’d just felt was...
Effervescent bubbles.
