Why did that punch me square in the gut? Kids had been a far-off idea, ethereal and made for future me to worry about.
And then she had changed all that, bumping up my timeline for happiness before ripping it out of my grasp.
Standing so close I could make out the gold flecks in his deep brown eyes, Dad said, “Then I’ll hand the reins over to Giovanni and any children he and Vittoria might have.”
Emotion choked me, but I forced it back.
“I won’t force you to live your life in misery. Only you have the power to do that.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Sailor
Waiting weeks to go back to work was a mistake. I should have just pushed through the misery and gone back a few days later because all I did was create another reason for my coworkers to gossip about me.
In the locker room, I overheard them laughing about my appearance.
“She’s lost so much weight she looks even more like a stray cat.”
“Underfed and unloved,” the other one said, and they laughed loudly.
When I entered a patient’s room later, I heard the tail end of a different pair of nurses talking about my relationship—or the fact that I clearly didn't have one anymore.
"I don't see him hovering around here now. She must have finally run him off.”
“He’s too good for her anyway.”
Each time, I swallowed thickly, pushing down the pain and humiliation. My office became even more of a sanctuary than before, and I began delegating my post-surgery check-ups. My heart hurt every time I failed to follow up with a patient, but I had to protect myself somehow. Surely the gossip would die down eventually.
Nights were the hardest. I’d grown used to having Noah curled up next to me, but instead, I only saw him when I closed my eyes. Every night, he murdered me repeatedly, despite how many times I assured myself in my waking hours that I could survive the pain.
More than once, I remembered my desire to die that night instead of surviving, so maybe my nightmares were really just wish fulfillment.
The date of the upcoming wedding didn't escape my notice, either. I’d already taken the day off a long time ago, but I was determined to go to the hospital and find something to do to occupy my time instead of staying locked inside my tortured mind.
But my plans got derailed when I opened my door to leave and saw the ghost of my father standing on the front stoop. Stomach twisting, heart thundering, I shook my head to clear the fog of memories.
“Matteo?” I said once logic took over.
“Sara.”
He was older than Carmine ever got the chance to be, his blond hair melding perfectly with the gray. A few wrinkles showed at the corners of his eyes and across his forehead, but his uncanny resemblance to my dad was hard to swallow.
“I don't go by Sara anymore,” I said with difficulty. “Why are you here?”
“To bring you back into the fold.”
As he spoke, he grabbed my upper arm, and I realized he wasn't alone. Several men stood on the walkway, a few more flanking a black van parked on the street.
Panic tried to choke me, but I shoved it away and planted my feet. “I don’t want to go with you.”
“You don't have a choice, dear cousin.”
Though I fought him, clawing his hand and trying to make it harder to drag me down the sidewalk, the other men closed in around us as he led me to the van.
Fighting for calm, I asked, “Are you under the impression I have men of my own who are about to jump you?”
“We all know Noah Costa doesn't hold back.”
