I wave at her as I set the containers on the kitchen counter. “There’s risotto alla milanese and gremolata too. There’s also—”
“She made extra,” Giovanna is beautiful, glowing. “She always makes extra.”
“You two are eating for five,” I point out, peeling off the lids to the containers.
Siena and Matti’s kitchen is a chef’s wet dream: professional-grade appliances, more space than my entire apartment. Just gorgeous. I wonder what Vin’s kitchen looks like, if he ever spends time there anymore. If he’s eating there. If not, where he’s eating. What he’s eating. Whose food he’s eating.
“Earth to Sophie.” Siena snaps her fingers in front of my face, and I blink. She’s studying me with those sharp eyes that miss nothing. “Where’d you go just now?”
“Nowhere.” I smile and start unpacking the food. “Just thinking about the dessert I left in the car, panna cotta with blood orange compote.”
“Liar.” But Siena lets it go and helps me plate everything while Giovanna waddles over to lean against the counter.
We settle at the dining table, a massive thing that could seat 12 but feels intimate with just the three of us. I serve them generous portions, watching their faces as they take the first bites.
Siena moans. “Oh myGod, Sophie. I’m naming this baby after you.”
“You can’t name your baby girl Sophie.” I get myself a glass of water, unable to eat even though I haven’t had anything all day. My stomach is a knot of rage and confusion and just sadness.
“Yes, this little one is Emilia, after Emily.” Siena’s eyes go soft at the mention of her dead sister. “Emilia Sophia Bellamorte Dragovari.”
My hand shoots up to cover my mouth and tears spring to my eyes. “Really?”
Siena nods, equally teary. “With Emily as her guardian angel in heaven and you as her godmother here on earth, she can’t lose.”
Sobs shake my shoulders. “Oh my God, Siena.” We both stand and I fall into her arms and hug her tightly. Even Giovanna is crying. I wave her in. “Come on, group hug!”
The three of us hug and cry and laugh all at the same time until Siena pulls back and settles heavily into a seat at the table. “Okay, I have to eat!”
I laugh along with her and sit as well as Giovanna reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “You seem tense, Sophie. Everything okay at the restaurant?”
“Fine. The Arsenal is doing great.” The lie tastes sour. “Just busy.”
“Rocco still being a problem?” Siena asks, and there’s a protective edge to her voice.
“No. I fired him.”
“Finally.” Siena stabs a piece of veal like she’s imagining it’s Rocco’s face. “That guy was a complete waste of space. You deserve so much better than—”
“You were right,” I laugh, not interested in a lecture. According to Siena, no man is good enough for me. “And don’t worry. Vin has thrown him out bodily twice now, so hopefully this time it sticks.”
“Vin.” Giovanna raises her eyebrows and glances at Siena, who looks like she just tasted something bitter, pausing with her fork halfway to her mouth.
She sets it down carefully. “Sophie.”
I tilt my head at her, sipping my water and knowing what’s coming.
“Sophie, please tell me you’re not—” Siena’s voice climbs. “You didn’t sleep with Vin, did you?”
My silence is answer enough.
“FUCK!” Siena explodes, slamming her palms on the table hard enough to rattle the dishes. “Sophie! What were you thinking?!”
“Siena—” Giovanna tries, but Siena is already on her feet, pacing, hands pressed to her temples.
“I told you! I told you he’s a piece of shit! I told you he uses women and throws them away! And you let him—oh my God, is he still staying at your house? Even after that?”
Heat floods my face. “That’s not—”
