Not a single part of us entangled.
I hated it.
And I hated that he kept doing shit that made me shove space between us.
Goddamn asshole.
Much like the O’Donnellys had done for Da, Stan had covered the bill for Evangeline’s grave. And if not him, the Valentinis. This place definitely went above and beyond a housekeeper’s salary.
When we made it to Evangeline’s graveside, to this woman whose life had been so short, who’d acted the muse for Stan and triggered the creation of such hideous compounds that would have global repercussions… it was almost anticlimactic.
I didn’t even know what I expected.
What I found was a simple, gleaming white headstone with engraved gold letters—so pure.
So clean and elegant but so undeniablyinnocent.
Everything Stan wasn’t. EverythingIwasn’t.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, sounding awkward for once.
You can’t exorcise a ghost if you can’t see it.
“What was she like?”
“Kitty, you don’t have to?—”
“What. Was. She. Like?”
Eventually, he rasped, “Generous with her time. Her mom expected a lot from her school wise, considering she wanted her to get married at eighteen, but she helped me learn Russian. She’s the reason I can speak Albanian.” He rubbed his temple. “She made great blinis, loved peanut butter because she couldn’t eat it without breaking out in hives, and wanted to report on the world’s atrocities. And if not that, then sue the rich men in power who let them happen.
“She was such a sweetheart. Infinitely kind. How couldn’t I want to protect her? I-I think that’s where it started. Rory never lets us protect her, didn’t need that from us, but Evangeline had too soft a soul for this world.
“In my head, the best way to protect her was to marry her and it all got twisted. Especially once we seized power and Accursio died in the takeover.” He released a shaky breath. “If I think about it, it’s strange that I thought I loved herlike that. She was a kid and I’m no goddamn pervert. I’d string up any guy who thought… You know what I mean.
“It wasn’t sexual. I swear, Kitty. I’m nothing like that fucker you and Raisin dealt with.”
I believed him.
But I also believed the other stuff he’d said.
A part of me thought I’d have disliked this sweet and soft flower whose petals were so fragile that he had to protect them.
Which was uncharitable.
But in the privacy of my own mind, I could be a bitch.
Evangeline and I would have had nothing in common. Nothing apart from him. Not when she’d lived up to her name and I definitely lived up to mine. Yet, he’d imagined himself in love with her…
I didn’t think he could have picked two more entirely different women if he’d tried.
But she was no more while I stood before her final resting place.
And I only stood here at all because she’d died.
“Were you waiting for her to talk about marriage?”
His shoulders rounded. And a flash shot across my line of sight. An image. A small boy. Three years old. Same posture. Matching face. Mini-Stan. In trouble, like always, for something…
