He takes a deep breath, then slowly releases it. "You married an Abruzzo?"
I stand taller. "Yes. And once you get to know her, you'll see that she's not a threat?—"
"Not a threat? Did that just come out of your mouth?" he shouts.
I cross my arms, scowling. My heart pounds so hard I think it'll explode.
Disappointment fills his expression. He softens his tone. "I thought I raised you to make smart decisions."
My jaw twitches. I hate hurting him. I knew eventually he'd find out; I just wanted it to be on my terms. I take a closer step. "Finn?—"
"No, Brax." He holds his hands in the air and steps backward. He shakes his head. "Don't say anything else." He turns, opens the door, walks out, and slams it shut.
I stare after him, my insides quivering, my fists clenched at my sides.
Valentina steps next to me. She puts her hand on my arm and softly says, "I'm sorry."
I take several breaths, then glance down.
Her expression brings me as much pain as disappointing Finn. Guilt riddles it. Her eyes are glassy.
I tug her into me. "It's not your fault."
"It is," she states.
I shake my head. "No. It's not."
"I don't want your family to hate you."
"He just needs some time," I assert, though doubt knots in my chest.
Valentina keeps her hand on my arm, her thumb brushing once before she lets it drop. She glances toward the door as if Finn's anger might seep back in under the frame, and something in her shoulders shifts. It isn't fear. It's the kind of resignation people carry when they've been blamed for things long before any fault existed.
She states, "He looked like he wanted to tear my head off."
"He looks at everyone like that when he's pissed." I try for ease, but my voice doesn't lift the way I want it to.
She tilts her head.
I add, "You weren't the reason he came here swinging."
Her brow arches. "But I was the reason he stayed swinging."
I snort despite everything. "Okay. Maybe that part is your fault."
Her expression softens, and her lips curve.
"You should eat," I tell her, gesturing at the discarded plates on the counter.
"I'm not hungry anymore," she says.
"Me either," I affirm.
We quietly clean up the kitchen, then take turns showering. I slide into a pair of jeans, and my phone buzzes.
Sean's name flashes, followed by a screenshot that snaps the last thread of calm in my body.
Liam:You two. My place. One hour. No excuses.
