How I felt, though—it was different this time.
It wasn’t with envy that I looked at them. Jealousy had given way to something else. I didn’t know when that had happened, but I was conscious of how my hand wrapped tighter around Gia’s waist as I pulled her closer to me.
Salvatore’s gaze moved to Gia while Lucia’s found mine.
“Lucia,” I said, giving her a short nod. “You look beautiful. Pregnancy becomes you.”
“Dominic,” she said, squeezing a little closer to Salvatore. “I’m glad you came. For Salvatore.” There was no missing the meaning of her words. She hadn’t forgiven me for what I’d done. For any of it. Not for abandoning her sister, her niece. Not for almost killing the man she loved.
I understood that and accepted my responsibility. It would take more than me showing up to win Lucia’s favor.
“You must be Gianna,” Salvatore said, studying Gia.
“Just Gia,” she replied, taking his hand.
Lucia’s gaze moved to Gia’s clothes, a pair of jeans and a sweater. Gia stepped out of my grasp and did a little twirl.
“They’re yours,” she said to Lucia. “I was in a bit of a bind. I hope you don’t mind.”
“They look great on you,” Lucia said. “I’m Lucia. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry about your bro—”
Gia shook her head. Lucia stopped.
Salvatore’s gaze returned to mine. “You came from Saddle River?”
I nodded.
“Was it you who bought the house outright?”
Again, I nodded, feeling embarrassed for the first time in a very long time.
He studied me but didn’t say anything more about it. “Come in. I think Roman has you staying in your old room. He didn’t mention a guest.”
“Gia stays with me.” Even I heard the possessive tone of that.
Lucia and Salvatore exchanged a quick glance but stepped back to let us in.
“How are Effie and your sister?” I asked Lucia, feeling like an asshole actually. A real asshole. A father who is a no-show.
“Great. Luke has been great for both of them.” Her delivery put me in my place.
“Lucia,” Salvatore cut in brusquely, giving her hand a squeeze.
Lucia cleared her throat. “When Effie heard we’d see you, she wanted to make sure to send you some of your favorite cookies. I have a tin for you upstairs. Not that you deserve it.”
“Enough,” Salvatore said, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck in warning.
She turned her stubborn face to his, and their gazes locked. Salvatore must have squeezed a little because Lucia narrowed her eyes but bit her lip. Probably to stop herself from talking.
“She’s right,” I said. “I’m a shit of a dad. Lucia’s just speaking the truth.”
“We’re not here to fight. We’re here for a funeral. Our father’s funeral.”
“Not—”
“He raised you as his own. And he regretted that night. Put your anger aside, at least for now. The man is dead, for Christ’s sake.”
Salvatore and I locked gazes. Our hands fisted.
