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Shit. I’d already been peppered with questions by her mom, and I’d nearly failed. I didn’t want to fumble my way through another conversation full of lies.
She held up a hand and shook her head. “Don’t worry. You don’t need to betray him and spill whatever secrets he’s carrying around. I wouldn’t ask you to do that.” She went over to the french doors and pushed them open, and I joined her on the balcony.
It was breezy out, and the sky was still overcast, but no rain, at least. “Where’s Pablo? I’d love to meet him.”
“Pablo is meditating in the pool house. He says he needs some space to remove the toxic energy he felt from my brothers.” She faced me, setting her back to the railing. She was the only sibling who lacked any kind of accent, since she was born in New York. But her tone of voice still had this beautiful quality to it I admired. She’d make a great audiobook narrator. “They really hate him.”
“I don’t think they’ll like any guy their sister brings home.” I stood alongside her, peering out at the choppy water. “A brother thing, I imagine.”
“My therapist says I always pick men I know my family won’t approve of because I want my brothers to love me as much as they loved Bianca, and dating the wrong men will get their attention and—” She cupped her mouth, and I had to replay the words she’d confessed to ensure I’d heard them right. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that,” she added once she’d lowered her hand.
“No, it’s, um, okay.” I lack a filter, too.
She fidgeted with the hem of her tee, and I eyed the writing there. “I’m trying to get into reading. I was hoping it’d make me feel closer to Bianca, since she was a writer.”
“And does it?”
“She’s dead,” she whispered. “The best I can do is be close to a ghost.” Her eyes slowly met mine. “And that’s another thing my therapist likes to remind me of. I’ll never see her again.”
Damn. “Maybe you need a new therapist? I mean, I’m sorry, it’s just, I’m not a fan of her advice, I guess. But who am I to know what’s best? I probably should’ve seen someone after my daughter was born.” I’d blamed hormones for my unhappiness, and maybe for a few weeks they were responsible, but in truth, I hadn’t been happy in my marriage for a long time.
“And I probably should’ve seen one after I found my sister dead in her apartment.” Her eyes fell closed, as if regretting her words again.
How’d I not know she was the one to discover her sister murdered? I banded my arm across my midsection, sick to my stomach for her. I couldn’t comprehend the idea of ever finding Natalia like that. “I didn’t know.”
She opened her eyes and shared, “We were supposed to have breakfast, and it wasn’t like her to not show up. After she didn’t answer her phone, I used the key she’d given me and let myself in.” Her eyes slowly worked up to meet mine. “When we told Enzo what happened while he was deployed, it was as if he already knew what we were going to say. Growing up, we used to joke that they shared a brain.”
And a heart. I sniffled, realizing tears threatened.
“But yeah, he felt her absence before we told him what had happened.” She let go of her shirt. “You probably don’t need to know this. I’m sorry. I tend to overshare.”
“It’s okay. I happen to appreciate honesty.”
“And yet, you’re friends with Enzo, and he’s not so great at talking. How does that work?” Then she whispered a quick apology. “No filter.” She opened her palms. “See?”
“No, it’s a fair question. He’s trying to open up.” A work in progress.
She reached for my arm and her brows slanted. “Just be careful with him. I don’t know if he’s capable of love after Bianca died. I mean, he doesn’t even know how to love me.” She let go of my arm and angled her head toward the door. Between her words and the sad look in her eyes, I wanted to both hug her and cry.
“Isabella, of course he loves you. He may not be good at showing it, but he adores you.”
She quietly looked at me for a long moment. And staring back at me were the eyes of an eighteen-year-old girl instead. A hurt, lonely kid who lost her big sister.
“Well,” she said, blinking back tears, “Mom’s waiting for us.” And then she made a beeline for the door before I could stop her.
I took a second to collect my thoughts and went out into the hall, but she was already gone by that point.
My shoulders slumped, and a weird feeling struck me. I stopped walking, doing a three-sixty, feeling as though I had eyes on me. But the hallway was empty. Pull it together, Maria.
I shook it off and managed to find my way to the kitchen inside the house. Or did a fifteen-thousand-square-foot home qualify as a mansion?
I spotted Isabella sitting on the counter talking to her mom.
“There you are,” Mrs.Costa said, and she quickly poured a generous glass of Chianti and started my way. And why did I feel like this was also meant as truth serum? I nearly choked on my first sip when she looked me dead in the eyes and asked, “So, are you in danger? Is my son protecting you and that’s why all those extra security guards are roaming my estate, making this place look like a war compound?”
TWENTY-ONE
Enzo
