And I have to.
“Are you going to see the little hairdresser again?”
Ruby. I open my mouth to name her, then close it as Lucia’s triumphant smile flashes in the corner of my eye. Damn her.
My sister is a mind reader.
“No.” I try to make my tone conversation ending.
“You two seemed to really hit it off,” she says with deceptive casualness.
“She’s a sweet girl.” I don’t allow any emotion in my words.
“She’s a smart young woman.”
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it,” I snap.
“I thought you might have spent the night with her.” My sister puts her hands in the pockets of her shift dress and regards me.
“It’s got pockets.” That usually distracts her into a rant about women’s clothing.
“All the better to stuff your repressed feelings into, brother,” she replies cheerily.
“She’s too young.” The words are bitter on my tongue. A lie. She’s perfect. It is me who is too old, and scarred, and morally corrupt for someone like her. She deserves more.
“I thought you liked her,” Lucia insists.
“I didn’t.” And that at least, is true. I think I fell head over heels in love with her.Likeis a tepid, pathetic little word compared to how I feel. I adore Ruby. I’d sell my soul to keep her safe, and that means keeping her away from me.
Lucia narrows her eyes. “She’s attractive though?”
“Beautiful.” And that’s a lie too. She’s so utterly gorgeous, the most perfect creature imaginable. Beautiful is an embarrassing understatement.
A waiter brings Lucia a cappuccino with biscotti and an apricot-filled cornetto pastry, soft and curved like a French croissant, and she thanks him in Italian. I order another black coffee and an espresso, and talk myself out of going to find Ruby.
Lucia holds a one-sided conversation about the wedding as my coffee goes cold, then lapses into silence.
“Don’t lose the love of a lifetime because you’re scared of being hurt,” Lucia says eventually.
“I am not afraid of that.” Even if Ruby weren’t too young and innocent for me, I still wouldn’t risk doing to her what my brother-in-law did to Lucia. Dying and leaving her a single mother. Alone.
“She liked you.”
I remember her clumsy, sweet attempts to flirt with me, and her kiss, and my heart squeezes painfully. “I don’t think so.”
“Love is worth the risk, you know,” Lucia says gently.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” But that’s a lie. “I should get back.” I go to rise.
“Dante.” Lucia’s voice stops me.
I sigh.
“I wouldn’t give up my time with Francesca’s father for anything in the world. Even though it ended in heartbreak, I wouldn’t change it.”
Deliberately, I look away.
Because Lucia doesn’t understand. It’s not me who I’m afraid of being hurt. It’s Ruby.
