Page 134 of Ricardo

“What about Dante?” he asks, but I know he knows.

I look down at the pastry in my hand, suddenly very interested in the powdered sugar on my fingers. “He’s my friend. A very good friend.”

“Yes.”

“And your son.”

“Yes.”

I lift my eyes to his. “And this feels like something that could hurt him if we handle it badly.”

Ricardo’s expression softens, but his voice stays steady. “Then we will not handle it badly.”

“Easier said than done,” I say. “I don't know how he's going to take this.”

“Then perhaps we hold off and ease him into it,” Ricardo suggests.

“I don’t want him to feel like I kept something from him,” I say. “I can't push him away or keep things from him. I did that once before with Harrison and—”

“This is not the same,” Ricardo says sternly. “This is far from the same situation. Dante does not need to know everything the moment it happens, especially when we are still understanding it ourselves.”

“And what about Marisa?” I say. “She knows. What if she says something to him?”

He reaches up and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “She will be discreet. I promise you.”

I look back down at the beautiful tray of delicious foods prepared for me and feel guilt.

“He matters to you,” he murmurs.

“Very much.” I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “I don't know if I deserve the second chance he gave me. And I don't know if he'd give me a third.”

“Julia,” Ricardo says, almost stern. “Dante did not give you a second chance because you earned enough points to deserve it.”

My throat tightens.

“He gave it to you because he loves you.”

I stare down at the pastry until it blurs a little.

“I may not know the specifics of what happened between you and that bastard,” Ricardo continues. “But I know my son, and I know there are very few people in this world he lets close enough to hurt him.”

I blink hard, refusing to let the tears fall.

“You hurt him once,” he says. “Yes. But you also came back. You told him the truth. You let him be angry. You did not force him to let you back into his life.”

His thumb moves gently along my jaw.

“He made that choice, Julia. Give him enough credit to know his own heart.”

I let out a shuddering breath, then lift my eyes to his.

“I don’t want this to become office gossip,” I whisper.

“It will not.”

The certainty in his voice reassures me.

He is not offended. He is simply listening to my needs.