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“Life was hard for young Saul.” His smile seems self-deprecating, like he’s trying to make a joke, but I’m not sure he’s kidding. “I didn’t have a lot of time to myself back then and there weren’t many sympathetic people in my life. Our cook was one of the few. I spent a lot of time learning from her and complaining about my brothers and my father. I probably annoyed the hell out of her.”
“She sounds like a decent person.”
“She still is. You’ll get to—” But he stops himself and goes silent. Now it’s getting a little awkward. “Well. She still works at the house.”
“And I probably won’t get to meet her because I’m your dirty little secret, huh?” I sit back and cross my legs.
He grimaces. “I wouldn’t put it that way.”
“How would you put it then? You’re ashamed of the filthy Irish girl you knocked up.”
“I’m not ashamed of you.”
“I’m the wrong kind of girl from a bad neighborhood. What will all your fancy friends think when you bring me home?” I’m messing with him, but the more I say it out loud, the more painful it becomes, because I’m pretty sure there’s some truth to what I’m saying.
“Our families are at war. It has nothing to do with you at all.”
“Right, of course not.” I push back from the table, my appetite suddenly gone. “No, it’s fine, I just don’t feel good. Mind if I take a shower?”
He looks like he wants to argue, but he only shakes his head. “You don’t have to ask. It’s your house too now.”
“Right, still getting used to that. You don’t mind doing the dishes, do you?” I walk away before he can answer, my cheeks flushed red.
I don’t know why it bothers me. I don’t actually want to meet his family—they live in an entirely different world from the one I’m used to. And my relationship with Saul isn’t even like that. I’m in this because it benefits Nana and Jason, and because my baby’s going to need a father. It’s an arrangement more than anything, and so what if he doesn’t want me meeting his brothers? That side of his life is totally irrelevant.
But it still doesn’t feel good, knowing that he’s ashamed of me.
I shower and get dressed in comfies. I’m exhausted from everything and end up scrolling through my phone in bed, and my eyelids are heavy when Saul appears in the room. He brushes his teeth, turns out the lights, and gets into the bed next to me. I’m suddenly very aware of him in the darkness and I turn off my phone, placing it on the nightstand.
I don’t know how I’m going to sleep with this man next to me.
“I’d show you off if I could,” he says and at first, I’m not sure I heard him right, because I don’t think anyone’s ever wanted to show me off before.
“I find that hard to believe. What’s there to show?”
“I understand you have this idea of yourself, but you’re beautiful, Molly.”
I smile to myself in the darkness, lying on my back, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know about that. I’m okay. My tips aren’t any better than anyone else’s at the diner.”
“Believe me, men look at you. Drives me fucking crazy, actually.”
“Is that jealousy?”
“Get used to it. But what I’m trying to say is, I don’t want to hide you. I want to drag you all over town and let every single made man in Philly see me with a woman like you on my arm. But I can’t.”
“Because of the war.”
“You make it sound like I’m making this shit up.”
“I know you aren’t. There’s fighting going on in the city. We all read about it in the papers. But Saul, I have nothing to do with any of it. My cousin’s barely involved, and my uncle’s been in prison for years. I’m not in that life.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He’s staring at me in the darkness, propped up on one elbow. I look at his mouth then down to his muscular chest. And my god, when did he take his freaking shirt off? “All my family will see is red hair and an Irish name.”
“Okay, I get it. You don’t have to keep explaining.”
“But I feel like I do. You got upset at dinner.”
“I’m just getting used to this still. Can you really blame me?”
