Celeste had known even as the words left her mouth that she was making a terrible mistake. But desperation had made her stupid, had made her think maybe—possibly—Ruby would love her enough to settle for less.
Thank God Ruby had more self-respect than that.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of meetings Celeste barely remembered. By the time five o'clock rolled around, she felt wrung out, exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with physical tiredness.
She drove to her parents' house, motivated by the need to feel something real and good in the middle of all this emptiness.
Her father was in the front yard when she pulled up, watering the roses Celeste's mother had planted last spring. He looked up and smiled, but the smile faltered when he saw her face.
“Hey, honey. We weren't expecting you until later.”
“I got off work early. Where are the kids?”
“Inside with your mother and Vittoria. They've been having a great time.” Daniel set down the hose, studying her. “You look tired.”
“I am tired. It was a long trip.”
But her father's expression said he didn't believe it was just travel exhaustion. He didn't press though, just squeezed her shoulder as she passed.
Inside, the house smelled like marinara sauce, fresh bread and the lavender sachets her mother kept in every room. She heard laughter from the kitchen and followed the sound.
Theo and Luna were at the table with Ottavia and Vittoria, all four of them covered in flour. They appeared to be making pasta, but from the state of the kitchen, most of the flour had ended up everywhere except in the pasta.
“Mama!” Theo spotted her first, launching himself off his chair. “Look! We made fettuccine! Well, Nonna made it but we helped!”
Luna followed at a more sedate pace, but her smile was just as bright. “Hi, Mom. How was New Orleans?”
Celeste knelt down and pulled them both into a hug, breathing in the scent of flour and kid-shampoo and home.
“It was beautiful,” she murmured. “I missed you both so much.”
“We missed you too,” Luna said. “But we also had a really good time. Can we stay a few more days? Nonna said she'd teach us how to make ravioli.”
“Of course you can.” She kissed both their foreheads. “As long as your grandparents don't mind.”
“We definitely don't mind,” Ottavia said from the stove, but she was looking at Celeste with concern. “Stay for dinner, honey. We're making enough to feed an army.”
Celeste wanted to refuse and collapse in private, but her mother's expression said refusing wasn't an option.
“That sounds great, Mom.”
The adults set the table together, while the twins went to wash off the flour, having had their own dinners early. Daniel came in from outside, and they all sat down to eat like they had a thousand times before.
“So,” Daniel said once everyone had food. “Tell us about New Orleans.”
Celeste picked at her pasta. “It was nice. The art exhibits were incredible.”
“Just nice?” Her mother said. “You were gone for about a week. Surely there's more to tell than 'nice.'”
“The food was good and the music was amazing. I saw a lot of beautiful things.”
“And your traveling companion?” Vittoria asked. “The woman from high school?”
“Fine. It was fine.”
“Celeste.” Her mother's voice held a note of concern. “What's wrong? You're being very—”
“Surface level,” Daniel finished. “You're giving us the tour guide version. What really happened?”
