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I hold her too tight, but she falls asleep anyway, curled up into me like I’m the shelter from the storm and not the storm itself. She feels so delicate like this, too small and soft.
I don’t find any peace until she does, carried to the edge of sleep by the rhythm of her breathing.
***
Tomorrow comes too fast.
The house is quiet. I pull myself up, disoriented by the light coming through the windows. Tessa is sleeping soundly beside me, but something’s off. The silence scratches at my instincts, as if it was the silence itself that woke me. It takes a second to find the missing piece—the chaos from the kitchen.
It always annoyed me that I could hear Vinny’s racket all the way up here.
Now, I can’t sleep through the morning without it.
I scrub my hands over my face.
I want to go down and burn out all this rage on the heavy bag in the gym—or maybe on one of the men dying in my wine cellar. Fast track their journey to hell. I tell myself I can do it later. I stay with Tessa as long as I can—once I leave, I doubt she’ll get any rest.
When the clock starts running out, I sit on the edge of the bed, the task ahead like a boulder resting on my shoulder. I brace myself to carry it.
Tessa is sitting up by the time I’m out of the shower. She watches me finish dressing.
“I have to go,” I tell her.
“Go where?” she asks.
“To pay respects to the family. Vinny’s mother and father.”
Her expression softens at first, and then hardens inexplicably.
“Wait for me to get ready,” she says, throwing off the covers. “I’m going with you.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“I didn’t ask if it was,” she says, and walks toward her bedroom as if the matter is already resolved. For now, I ignore it. I finish getting ready myself. If I don’t want Tessa to go with me, all I have to do is shut her door.
But why she’s so set on it, and why she’s telling me rather than asking—I haven’t had enough sleep for bullshit this early. Contessa is staring into her closet when I enter her room.
“Good,” she breathes, when she sees me. “Help me choose something that’s suitable.
Obviously one of the black pieces, but it can’t be too revealing, and your men didn’t give me much to work with in the modesty department.”
“Who said you’re going?”
“I did.”
My objection dies on my lips.
For the first time, I notice Tessa’s engagement ring glitters on her finger. She hasn’t worn it, not once since she rejected it on the top of her nightstand. She follows my stare. She doesn’t flinch; the color rises softly in her cheeks, but she refuses to look bashful about it.
She holds out her hand, letting me look at the way the generous diamond glints on her finger.
“I’m going with you,” she says again. “You have to go because you’re the head of this family. If I’m going to be seen as your wife, I should be there, too. It’s proper.”
“This isn’t a normal circumstance, Tessa. I don’t know how they’ll react.”
“I know. They’re grieving. If they’re uncomfortable with it, I’ll leave. But I want to try.”
I study her face. She’s resolved. Stronger than yesterday, somehow. I expected the attack would shatter her—instead, she’s like that diamond on her ring, forged from the pressure of it all.
