Page 176 of Ricardo

I know, suddenly, as clearly as if he said her name.

Ricardo is talking about Dante's mother.

In all the time I've known Dante, the only thing he's ever told me is that he's never met his mother, and it’s due to their lifestyle. His father made that decision, and that was that.

Dante has always held resentment because of that, but he has understood it, having grown up in this life. Which is why he's never questioned it.

But Ricardo's tone tells me that there is more to it than that.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

For the first time, Ricardo just looks tired.

“I have been hard on Dante when I needed to be,” he says. “But I will not strike simply because he strikes first.”

My anger returns, hot and immediate.

“That sounds awfully noble.”

His eyes narrow.

“It also sounds like an excuse.”

“Careful.”

“No.” I drop the towel onto the desk beside him. “He is grown, Ricardo. He is a grown man. He is allowed to be hurt. He is allowed to be angry. He is allowed to hate both of us if that is what he feels. But he does not get to punch his father and have you make excuses for him. That's just insulting, and he would agree if he knew.”

Ricardo stands slowly.

The movement brings him close enough that I have to tip my head back to keep looking at him.

“You do not understand everything between me and my son.”

“It seems your son doesn't understand everything between you and your son,” I say. “But I understand enough to know you are babying him.”

His face hardens.

For a second, I think I have gone too far.

Then I realize I do not care.

“Dante would be furious if he knew you were treating him like this,” I say. “He would hate it.”

Ricardo says nothing.

“You think you’re honoring his pain by letting him do whatever he needs to do with it. But that is not respect. That is guilt.”

His jaw flexes.

The split in his lip opens again, a thin line of red appearing at the corner.

“I know he feels betrayed, but we've done nothing wrong. He crossed a line,” I say, quieter now. “And if you love him, you should tell him that.”

Ricardo’s gaze holds mine.

“I do love him.”

“I know.”