Grinning, he slips his hands in his pockets and takes a leisurely step backward. “I think she wants her uncle Armani.”
“No, she wants her da—”
Just then, a wail sharp enough to make my ears bleed spills out of the baby’s toothless little mouth. And then another, and another. Dante quickly takes the baby, laughing as he soothes her with a series of rocking motions, baby talk, and butt-pats. I guess he’s gotten pretty good at the daddy stuff.
Frankie quickly takes over, scooping Lili out of Dante’s arms, and moves toward the side exit doors with her mother and sister Charlie. Livvie checks something on her phone, sighs, and then follows after them. Marco’s eyes track her, his lips pulled into a frown.
After giving his wife a kiss and suggesting that she join the others in the courtyard, he turns to me and says, “When are you going to tell her what happened to her boyfriend?”
He’s referring to Livvie, of course. He’s been overly protective of Frankie’s youngest sister ever since he met her. To be fair, Dante and I have, too. Maybe some part of us is looking to fill the hole that our sister left in our lives when she died.
That said, Marco’s bond with Livvie is something special. They’re both the youngest of three siblings, the sibling most likely to get banished from the room during “grown-up talk,” the sibling who constantly struggles to be taken seriously by their elders. So when Livvie got kidnapped by the Brunos, Marco took it personally. He made it his duty to save her. And he did. We all did, but Marco…his actions were beyond heroic. I’d never seen him go out on a limb like that before, risking everything for someone else. The whole experience matured him in a big way, seemingly overnight.
“When the time is right,” I answer. Although I’m not sure the time will ever be right to tell my sister-in-law that I was forced to kill her boyfriend.
Marco motions me into a side chapel that glows softly with the light of dozens of flickering prayer votives lined up in rows on an iron stand. He digs in his pocket, pulls out a few crumpled dollars, and drops them in the collection box, then grabs a fresh white candle and motions for me to do the same.
“You know I’m not religious,” I tell him.
“You should still be respectful,” he says. “Do it for Lili, at least.”
“Fine.”
I donate a crisp fifty to the box, pick up a candle, and light it alongside my brother. Once we’ve fitted our burning candles into holders, he nudges me.
“Now pray.”
I grimace. “I’d rather not. I doubt the supreme creator would care to listen to me anyway.”
“Come on. It can’t hurt,” he says. “And what if it helps?”
With a huff, I close my eyes. I have every intention of saying a prayer for my niece, asking the powers that be to guide and protect her, to help her have a life that’s good and joyful and peaceful. Instead, my thoughts veer to Candi. And how she, too, deserves a life that’s good and joyful and peaceful. I’m still trying to figure out exactly how to word my prayer when Marco gives me another nudge.
“You need to tell Livvie,” he whispers. “It’s cruel to keep it a secret from her. You don’t have to admit it was you, but at least tell her you found out her boyfriend died. Otherwise she’ll just keep waiting for him to come back. I mean, haven’t you noticed how miserable she is? She’s suffering.”
“It’s not my problem if her broken heart is keeping her up at night because she thinks she got ghosted,” I snap.
“Armani—”
“Don’t ‘Armani’ me. She should have known better than to get involved with her bodyguard.”
“She didn’t know he was working for the Brunos,” Marco hisses. “Besides, she’syoung. She’s innocent. Dude was her first boyfriend. You can’t blame her for being a little naïve—”
“I’m not blaming her, but I can tell you one thing: she’s better off learning how shitty men can be now, so she can learn to build some walls,” I say. “Trust me, she’ll get over it. Eventually. And it’s not like she’ll never have to go through a breakup again. This experience will toughen her up.”
“Right,” Marco says sourly. “So basically, you did her a favor by killing the guy.”
I scoff. “Can you imagine if we’d let him live? He would have turned her against us eventually and we’d have another disloyal woman to contend with. You will saynothingto her. Understand?”
“Whatever. I just hate seeing her like this.” Marco shakes his head. “I need a drink.”
With that, he storms off to join the rest of the guests who are slowly filtering out of the church and into the courtyard. The doors are propped open, so I can hear the low chatter of everyone enjoying the reception, the punctuations of laughter, the random, happy shrieks of the baby. I head toward the noise, but then I see Candi still standing off to the side of the altar. Her hands clasped in front of her, and her eyes wander the interior of the church. It’s obvious that she’s pretending not to notice that the entire Bellanti family has left without so much as a backward glance at her.
Everyone but me.
She turns her head as I approach. When I snag her hand in mine, she visibly relaxes.
“There you are,” I say as I walk her toward the door. “Did you enjoy the ceremony?”
