“What happened?”
All he did was shake his head.
“Why won’t you talk to me? You always talk to me.”
He continued to rub his palms together. “Rocco stopped by. Things were said. And I don’t want to talk about it.”
Surprise flushed through me. My texts went unanswered, but they did have an impact. However, it looked like they didn’t have the impact I wanted. “Constantine—”
He lifted his chin and looked at me. “I’m not okay, obviously. And I don’t want to pretend I’m okay, but I also don’t want to discuss it or dissect it. Nothing noteworthy or new was said. He told me what he thought of my character ... and left. That’s it. That’s the whole story. And now, I just want to be alone.” He bowed his head again.
He’d never pushed me away like this before. Never completely closed me off. We were so happy before Darius took the palace, and ever since then, our happiness had been waves in the ocean, rising and falling, consistently high and then low.
Now I wished I hadn’t texted Rocco. I’d reached out because I wanted them to reconcile—not for him to come out to Taormina and rip Constantine to pieces. This was all my fault. “I’m sorry, Constantine.”
“It’s fine,” he said quietly. “Give me a couple hours, and I’ll bounce back ... like I always do.”
I moved to his couch, going to the side Medusa wasn’t nestled into. I hooked my arm through his and laid my cheek on his shoulder. My hand rested on his bicep, and I just sat there with him.
He was quiet, staring at the table between the two couches.
“You should know ... I texted Rocco a couple days ago.”
He didn’t react overtly, but I could feel his muscles tense under my touch.
“I said I wanted you to reconcile. I didn’t expect him to come here and say hurtful things to you. I’m sorry.”
He took a deep breath, held it for several long seconds, and then let it out again. To my surprise, he turned to me and pressed a kiss to my head. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I know you meant well. It’s not your fault you extended an olive branch and he decided to light it on fire.”
It took a few days for Constantine to bounce back to his old self, but when he did, he had a smile that could be seen a mile away. I loved that despite the fact that he had every reason to be unhappy, he chose to pursue happiness every time. Always rebounded from his funk. Always appreciated what he had instead of dwelling on the past. Never resented me for the circumstances we were in.
On Sunday night, his mother hosted one of her big dinner parties, and when we walked in the door, her home was already crammed with friends, family, and neighbors. The terrace was full of people drinking wine and raiding the ice chests of beers and sodas. Music came from a stereo system, but it was drowned out by the sounds of conversation and laughter.
His mother worked in the kitchen with her sister and her best friend Lucia, Isabella’s mother. It seemed like they were on good terms despite all the drama, so that was nice to see. We said hello to them in the kitchen, and all the women came right toward me and touched my stomach like there was anything to touch. I was barely six weeks along and my clothes didn’t fit the same, but it wasn’t super apparent to the naked eye. But they touched me like I was about to pop.
Beatrice walked into the room with her two sons, and not only did she give me an ice-cold look as she watched my future mother-in-law and her friends shower me with excitement, but she actually rolled her eyes.
“Uncle Con!” One of the boys beelined straight for Constantine, and the younger one followed behind.
“Oh no,” he said. “Here come the monkeys ...”
They climbed him like a tree, and Constantine played along with it, holding out one of his arms so the boy who looked about four years old could climb it like a tree branch and hang down like a monkey in the jungle.
The other looked about two years old, and Constantine grabbed him and threw him over his shoulder, listening to his shrieking laughter. “Anyone got a banana?” Constantine asked. “Because I’ve got two crazy monkeys on me.”
Both boys laughed, clearly thinking their uncle was the coolest guy they’d ever met. They both started to howl like monkeys in the kitchen while everyone tried to finish up the dinner.
“There’s gotta be some bananas around here ...” Constantine walked out holding both boys like they weighed nothing. “Maybe in the bathroom?”
“Ew, not in the bathroom!” one of the boys said as Constantine rounded the corner and headed to the other side of the house.
Beatrice walked forward and poured herself a glass of wine as she leaned against the counter. She looked dead tired behind the eyes and completely mentally checked out. She eventually pushed off the counter with her hips and left the room.
“Need any help?” I asked Sofia.
“No, no, no,” she said as she shook her head. “You rest, honey. Go have a seat outside. Dinner will be ready soon.”
I made my way down the hallway to see where Constantine had gone. He wasn’t in the house, so I headed toward the back terrace, the strings of white lights becoming brighter the closer I came.
