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"Confusing you?" I sit up straight. My side protests, and my shoulder screams in pain, but I ignore it. "I thought I was being very clear when I said that I love you, Via. I am in love with you, I—"
"Stop." She slaps her palms over her ears. "Please stop." She turns away from me. Her body language is stiff, her muscles tense. She folds her fingers into fists, tucks her elbows into her sides. I can’t see her features.
"What is it, Via? I thought you felt the same way about me?"
"I—" She shakes her head. "I do. I love you so much, Massimo. And when I saw you collapsed on the ground, my heart almost stopped. I was sure I was going to die. I thought I’d lost you. It felt like someone had reached right into me and pulled out all of my insides.” She turns on me. “And then, when you kissed me—” she wrings her hands together "—I was so relieved, I thought I was going to die all over again. I’m not sure I could take another one of these incidents. If something were to happen to you again, I’m not sure I’d survive it."
I open my mouth to protest, but she stops me.
"And it could happen again.” She squeezes her fingers together. “Don’t deny it. You’re a Mafioso. You’ll never really be free of what it means to be part of an organized crime syndicate."
"Maybe; maybe not. Either way, we're going to try. We have enough clout to ensure that our futures, and that of our offspring, are free of the shadow of our past deeds."
She hunches her shoulders. "What if that’s not enough? What if, each time you try to move forward, a shadow from your past—from our past—crawls out to confront us? What if—" she raises her palms and stares at them “—despite your best attempts, we’re put in situations where we’re forced to make split-second decisions, the consequences of which we’re going to have to live with for the rest of our lives?"
I flinch, then square my shoulders. "Being part of the Mafia is in my blood, and it’s in yours. It’s not something we can ever get rid of completely. It’s not something we should hesitate to talk about. In fact, to move forward, it’s important we come to grips with it and confront it," I retort.
"And no doubt, kill if needed," she says in a low voice.
My heart twists, and my guts churn. "I’m sorry you were put in a situation where you had to do that. But I’m not sorry that you did it."
She shakes her head. "Neither am I."
I frown. "So, what’s the problem, Via?"
"Can’t you see?" She tips up her chin. "That is the problem. This—" She gestures between us. "All of this—you being hurt, me not hesitating to shoot someone to protect the both of us, you killing my brother to safeguard my future. The fact that I’m not even upset about that, or that I had to shoot someone to protect us. It’s not normal. It’s not how ordinary people would react, Massimo."
"But we’re not ordinary, Via. We live on the edges of society. We see the things that other people refuse to see. We do the things that other people won't do. We’re the kind who constantly push the boundaries of what’s right to survive.”
She scoffs. “You might, but that’s not what I want for myself.”
“Like it or not, our legacy defines us. We were born into it, and try as we might, we can’t walk away from it. It's what we were born into."
"But it’s not something I chose as my lifestyle. I don’t want that. It’s why I left… Not only to pursue my passion, but also so I could find a life separate from what it means to be part of the Mafia. Then you came along; and here I am, right back where I didn’t want to be."
My heart begins to race. My pulse thrums in my stomach. A drift of snow seems to localize in my chest, and I ignore it. "I thought you cared about me, Via," I say carefully. "I thought you had feelings for me."
"I do." She locks her fingers together. "It’s what makes this so much more difficult to say."
The hair on the back of my neck rises. "Don’t." I keep my voice level, but every muscle in my body tenses. Even before she opens her mouth, I know what she’s going to say. It still doesn’t prepare me for the shock when she turns her face sideways.
"I need some time apart, Massimo."
"No," I growl.
"Yes." She shuffles her feet. "Please understand, I just need to figure out where I am at with all of this."
"With all of what?" I snap.
"With you, me, this wedding, with what happened... How you almost died."
"But I’m alive." I swing my legs over the side of the bed and she starts.
"Please, don’t get out of bed, you need to rest."
"And watch as you walk away from me? You want me to lie back and allow you to talk yourself into some bullshit explanation for why you need some space from me?"
"I do need space, and it’s not bullshit. I simply need to hear myself think. I need to figure out what I want."
