And I know she was standing just outside the study. I know what she overheard.
“I don’t feel great,” she adds on.
I don’t bring up the fact that I saw her run up the stairs. Don’t mention that the look I exchanged with Salvatore pretty much confirmed my thinking. I could kill my father. We’ve discussed this a thousand times. He knows where I stand. I’m not changing my mind. He knows me well enough to know he can’t make me.
“I’m sorry,” Natalie is saying when I tune back in.
She’s not sick. She looks fine. A little paler than usual, but that’s not flu. That’s what she overheard.
“I’ll take you home,” I say.
She shakes her head. “No. You should stay with your mom. I can take a train.”
“You’re not taking a train. I’ll take you home.”
She stops, her back stiffening as she sucks in a deep breath, zips her bag and picks it up off the bed before facing me square on.
“Sergio, you need to stay here with your mom. I think you’re right. I don’t think you can take time with her for granted right now.”
She’s choosing her words carefully. Neither of us want to say out loud what we know she means.
“I’ll be fine, and besides,” she clears her throat, doesn’t quite meet my gaze when she says the next part: “I don’t want to get her sick.”
That’s the first lie Natalie has told me. She isn’t sick—at least not with the flu. I study her, and she can’t meet my eyes. I nod. “Okay.”
“Okay?” She’s surprised by my response.
“With conditions.”
She exhales, waits, looks like she’s on the verge of tears all of a sudden.
I go to her. “Are you all right? Really?”
She nods, but her eyes glisten.
I wrap my hands around her arms and rub them before pulling her into my chest. She sniffles, and I don’t say anything when I feel the warmth of tears seep through my shirt.
“Remember what I said last night?” I ask.
She nods, keeps her forehead pressed to my chest. I weave my fingers gently into her hair, cup the back of her head, hold her.
“Mine. No matter what.”
I hear her suck in a deep breath. Feel her shudder with it.
She pulls away, wipes the back of her hand across her eyes, her nose. She doesn’t comment on what I’ve just said. “Conditions,” she says instead with an attempt at a smile. “I would be surprised if you didn’t have any.”
“You know me well. One of our drivers will take you to my house.”
She shakes her head. “I want to go home. To my house. It’s easier with school work and all my things, and Pepper’s more comfortable.”
“That last part is bullshit but fine, your house with a guard. Ricco.”
“Not in the house.”
“I wasn’t going to station him inside, but he will do a sweep.”
She nods. “Okay.”
