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“He will.” I swallow back a hard lump of doubt in my throat and say it again, so that maybe I will even believe it myself. “He will.”
35
Rose
I’ve just finished feeding Liam the following morning, settled in the chair next to Michael’s bed, when Dante and Alice DiAngelo walk in, followed by Raphael.
“Good morning.” I offer them a small smile. I'm still a little unsure how to act around them all, but we’re making progress. Raphael getting my son out of that church helped significantly. Something I’ll always be eternally grateful for.
Alice approaches, carrying a caramel latteand a brown paper bag from my favorite bakery. She offers them to me, and in exchange, I hand her Liam. Once he’s settled in her arms on the couch, I dig into the muffin and sip on the sweet, warm drink, fighting the temptation to chug the entire thing.
“How is he? Any change?” Dante asks, standing on the other side of Michael’s bed.
The head of the DiAngelo family is a difficult man to read, but I see so much of Michael in him, and for such a powerful man, he’s a complete golden retriever when it comes to Alice.
“His doctor weaned him off the pain meds as well last night. He said they can sometimes act as a suppressant.”
Dante nods. He moves to sit beside his wife and gently cups the back of Liam’s hat-covered head. He stares down at the baby with a strange look.
“What is it?” I ask.
Sighing, Dante leans back against the couch. He meets my eyes for a moment before he suddenly sits up and leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He’s on edge about something. “I have to apologize to you, Rosaleen.”
“It’s Rose. Please.”
“Right. Of course. I have to apologize, Rose.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” I mean it. He did nothing wrong, as far as I can remember. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
Dante chuckles lightly. “For what? For making my son the happiest he’s ever been and bringing this sweet angel into our family?”
“I guess that and the huge headache my identity brought. We almost lost Michael…” I lower my head and voice. “We still might.”
“None of that talk now.” Alice interrupts. “Michael is strong, and he will wake up because he has a lot to live for. There’s a whole future ahead of him.”
Dante kisses his wife’s head. “You’re right, dear.” He looks back at me, and I meet his eerily familiar gold gaze. “I’m sorry for failing you when you were a child. I’m your godfather. Your mother was a close friend growing up. She trusted me to look after you no matter what, and I failed her too. A regret that I will take to my grave.”
“You didn’t fail me or her. You didn’t know what was going on. There’s a difference,” I tell him. A truth I’ve been trying to accept for the past week.
Dante smiles softly. “You’re so much like your mother. Wise beyond your years. Did you know that before the accident, we were in talks about arranging a marriage with you and Michael? When you graduated from university of course.”
“I didn’t know that.”
I turn my head and look at Michael, studying his quiet and still face. He has a couple of days’ scruff growing on his face, making him look ruggedly handsome. I kind of like it. Maybe I can convince him to keep it. At least long enough to know what it feels like running kisses up on my neck, down my chest...between my legs. I want that chance with him. I want every chance we can get.
“Do you think he’ll forgive me?” The question has been a constant concern lingering in the back of my mind.
“Forgive you for what?” Dante asks. “Keeping your identity a secret? You didn’t know who Michael was. You haven’t from the beginning. I can’t fault you for being protective of Liam and yourself. If anything, I’m proud you did.”
I chew on my bottom lip. Logically, his words make sense. Of course, they do. But that small part of my mind that feeds my anxiety perks up. “I should have told him the moment he rescued me. I wanted to. But I didn’t want to put his life or anyone else’s in danger because of who my father is…who he was. I was scared of what he would do if he found me again.”
“If Michael had told you his real name instead of our mom’s maiden, would you have done the same?” Raphael asks, taking Liam from Alice when he gets a little fussy. The brothers are identical, but Liam doesn’t know any different, and without Michael awake to hold him, Raphael has stepped in to help.
“My entire life, I’ve only ever known one truth. And it didn’t matter if I was here in Miami or over there in Dublin. I am an O’Leary. Dante is my godfather, but he’s still a DiAngelo.” I turn my eyes to the patriarch of the Italian family. “You’re still the head of the High Table and, as such, an ally to my father. When Michael rescued me from that car, I was terrified. My father had just torn me away from my son and then sold me like I was nothing more than a piece of meat. So if Michael had told me who he was then, at that moment? Knowing what I did at the time?” I look away and cover Michael’s hand with mine. “No. I don’t think I would have. To be completely honest, I probably would have tried to find a way to run.” I chuckle under my breath, but it holds no humor. “That’s probably not what you wanted to hear.”
After a moment of silence, Dante says, “This world we live in, it’s not always black and white. Take it from someone who knows that better than anyone else. Sometimes, the gray is the better path to take.”
“As a fellow mother, I admire what you did. How hard you have fought, and no one can judge you for it. No one should, anyway,” Alice assures me with a genuine smile.
