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“Oh, mia piccola stella.” Ma looked to Emory. “I’m sure it was also terrifying, was it not?”
“Maybe a little,” she replied shyly.
Smack.
“Dammit, Pop.” I rubbed my head. “Control your woman.”
Before Ma could take another swipe, I wrapped my arm around a chuckling Emory and moved us to the living room, where the rest of the family had gathered.
“What did your mom call me back there?” she asked as we sat on the couch next to River and Cate.
“Her little star.”
“Is that an Italian thing?”
“Nah, it’s a Ma thing. It means she likes you.” I leaned in to kiss her temple.
Emory was the first woman I’d ever brought home to meet the family, so I was well aware of the thoughts running through my mother’s head. This wasn’t a fleeting relationship and by no means was it fake. The woman sitting on my left meant a great deal to me, more so than I probably even realized.
My brothers and I had always been envious of our parents’ relationship. They’d been married for over thirty-five years and were still very much in love. Their marriage was built on a foundation of loyalty, honesty, and trust; something each of us sought out in our partners. Gabe and Rico had been lucky enough to find that in Cate and River.
Even though we’d, technically, only been on two dates, Emory and I were laying the framework for something magical, something I’d never dreamed was possible. My career had been my sole focus for so long, the thought of settling down, of starting a family, wasn’t even a passing thought. Now though, it was all I seemed to think about. Well, that and how I was going to get her to forgive me.
“We need to have a meeting tomorrow morning.” Gabe caught my eye from the other side of the couch where he stood with Alec and Rico.
“I’ve got a class coming in at ten, so just text me a time.” He nodded, then resumed his conversation with my brothers.
Dinner went relatively smoothly until Ma started her interrogations about Emory’s family. To her credit, Emory didn’t even blink when she informed everyone who her father was and how her upbringing was vastly different from ours. Even her relationship with her brother, Maxwell, didn’t come close to how it should have been. It seemed like more of a competition for affection, with her brother winning at every turn.
Before we left, Ma pulled me aside.
“La sua vita non era buona, figlio mioHer life was not good, my son.”
“No, mamma, non lo eraNo, Ma, it wasn’t.”
“Rendilo miglioreMake it better.”
“I’ll do my best, Ma.” I pulled her in for a hug then kissed her cheek.
Once all the goodbyes were said, I drove us back to her apartment with the intention of ending our night with another kiss at the door. It was getting harder and harder to control my need for her, although until we reached the top of her steps, I hadn’t realized how much my lack of attention was confusing her.
“Do you want to come in for a drink?” she asked.
“I better not. It’s getting late.”
“Oh, okay.” Her defeated tone killed something inside of me.
She spun around to unlock her door, but I caught her by the elbow.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I begged.
“Absolutely nothing.”
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
Slowly, she lifted her head, the hurt reflecting back at me through her eyes.
“Have you changed your mind about us being fake?” she started.
