“Yes. I was. He distanced himself from me.”
“You distance yourself from him,” she said. “You were so angry after the divorce and—”
“Yes. I was a teenager when it happened.”
That realization rocked her. Because of course he was. He was a child. He reacted like a child. Most of the interactions that she had had with him that been toxic and soul searing and affecting had been when he was an angry teenage boy. She had also been a teenager, so she hadn’t handled any of it all that well.
But the stunning, jarring revelation that any strained relationship that had remained had probably been due in large part to Giuseppe letting a teenage boy’s reaction to something dictate the whole rest of his relationship with his son was… It was painful.
“I think he believed that you hated him,” she said. She felt honor bound to defend her stepfather.
“I’m sure he did. You were also completely uncritical of him, and I imagine that was a much more satisfying relationship.”
“That isn’t the only reason that he cared about me.”
Romeo frowned. “Of course not. Of course it’s not the only reason he cared about you, but you can see that it would be more rewarding to have a relationship with a child that thinks you’re a superhero, versus a relationship with one who sees you as a man who could do nothing right. And for that, I carry fault. I am sorry my father and I did not get to mend that.”
Of course, they hadn’t been entirely estranged; she knew that. They had still seen each other at holidays, and he had often been there just to visit. But you could feel the strain in the relationship, and of course Romeo’s relationship with Heather’s mother had never been easy.
And now both of them were gone, which meant that all that was left was regret over what might’ve been. What could have potentially been if things had been different. If he had handled things differently. If his father had.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Of course you were a teenager. Of course that should’ve been handled differently.”
“Family is complicated,” he said.
Particularly theirs.
“Well, the hope is that we make ours a little less complicated.”
“We’re stepsiblings getting married and having a baby. I don’t think there’s anything less complicated about that.”
“You don’t already have a wife.” She said that dryly, but she wondered if he’d be offended. Judging by the hollow laugh he gave in response, he wasn’t.
“There is that.”
They didn’t continue the conversation until they got on his private plane. Which was of course the most luxurious aircraft she’d ever been on. But that was what he did.
“This is extraordinary. Did you design it?”
“I had a hand in it,” he said.
“More than just a nepo baby.”
“Thank you,” he said, pouring himself a glass of Scotch. She was instantly envious that she could not do the same.
“Somehow I don’t feel like you’re actually thanking me.”
“Maybe I am. Maybe you need to start taking what I say at face value.”
“Maybe,” she said.
“Here we are, almost getting along.”
“Almost.”
“I’m going to take you to my favorite hotel in Vienna, and I will leave you there while I speak to my mother. I need to tell her that you’re having a baby. I need to tell her that we’re getting married. I will have to get my read on the situation.”
“I can’t apologize to you for our parents having an affair.”
