“What about Zeke?”
A heavy sigh finds my lips. “I don’t think my parents are going to be happy with me when I show up for Thanksgiving. I know they’re going to try to talk me out of marrying you, moving in together next semester, all of it.”
He nods slowly and parks the car but leaves it running. I unbuckle, ready to get out, but he hasn’t shut off the engine.
The conversation clearly isn’t over for him.
He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to face me.
“I could come with you,” he says.
I open my mouth, considering his suggestion, and then shut it.
“What’s that look?” Luca asks, staring at me curiously. He reaches out, his hand grazing my cheek.
“What about your family and your parents? Do you think Dante is going to be okay with you missing Thanksgiving?”
Luca shrugs and glances at the house. “I missed it last year. Didn’t kill him.”
“Too bad,” I quip and wince. “Sorry.”
“Don’t ever apologize for being honest with me. That’s all I’d ever ask of you,” Luca says.
I know he’s right. I haven’t always been honest with him. I hid Zeke from him, but at the time, we weren’t dating and there hadn’t been a good time to reveal that I had a son. I have no intention of hiding anything from him ever again.
“So, Thanksgiving at my parents’ house?” Just saying it aloud brings nausea to my lips.
“If we’re both invited,” Luca says. “I go where you go.”
Reaching for his hand, I take it in mine. “You don’t have to suffer with me, because it will be impossible to get through the meal without fighting.”
Luca reaches for me, pulling me closer. “I’m not going to let you go through that alone. We’re in this together. Please don’t ever forget that.”
I dread when the fourth Thursday of November rolls around.
Thanksgiving.
Luca agreed to come with me, so we could commiserate in hell together.
While my parents aren’t mafia, they’re also not the least bit quiet about their opinions. Growing up, I never thought it could be a bad trait until I got pregnant at fifteen.
Then the parents all my friends loved, who saw them as their own mom and dad, had felt as though they’d turned on me.
They wanted me to take care of my little problem, so it wouldn’t affect my future.
My body, my choice, I had told them.
I hadn’t wanted to go through with the pregnancy, but I’d been rebelling, and whatever they wanted, I did the opposite.
Maybe they’d known all along, and it had been some reverse psychology crap they pulled on me.
Turns out, pregnancy was a bitch that I didn’t see coming, and raising a baby, that was even harder.
But they supported whatever decision I made.
I still believe I made the right decision, even though it’s been difficult for everyone. Zeke is amazing. I just wish I spent more time with him, and it seems my wish is being granted.
Whether I’m ready for it or not.
