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“We broke up years ago.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
I shifted beneath Dante’s heavy stare.
Did I still love Heath? I cared for him, and I missed the easy rapport we had. Our breakup had devastated me.
But I wasn’t the same person I’d been when we were dating, and time had dulled my heartbreak into a distant echo of what it once was.
When I thought of Heath, I thought of the comfort of being loved. I didn’t necessarily think ofhim.
But if I didn’thaveto marry Dante, and I could go back to Heath without alienating my parents, would I do it?
My head pounded with indecision.
“It doesn’t matter,” I finally said. “I’m engaged to you, and I’m not getting back together with Heath.”
My answer only stoked the fire in Dante’s eyes. “I won’t have my fiancée pining away after another man before, during, or after the wedding.”
“Why does it matter?” My frustration bubbled over into a rush of words. “You’ll get your market access and business deal either way. Stop pretending like this is a normal engagement. It’s not. We may have kissed and…and gotten more intimate, but we arenota love match. You’ve told me that time and again. You have me. But you don’t get to dictate how I feel or who I think about. That isnotpart of the agreement.”
Silence reigned in the aftermath of my rant, so thick I tasted it in the back of my throat.
Dante and I stared at each other, the air crackling like a frayed electric wire between us.
One wrong move, and it’ll burn me alive.
I braced myself for an explosion or yelling or some kind of veiled threat.
Instead, after seconds that felt like hours, he turned and walked out without a word.
The door shut behind him, and I slumped against my desk, suddenly exhausted. I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, my throat tight.
Every time we made progress, we took two steps back.
One minute, I thought Dante might be developing feelings for me. The next, he shut me out like an unwanted stepchild in the cold.
The caveman in Geico’s old commercials communicated better than him.
What had he been doing here anyway? Dante’s office was a few blocks from mine, but he’d never visited me at work before.
My eyes snagged on the paper bag he’d left behind.
After a moment’s hesitation, I opened it, and my stomach dipped in the strangest way.
Sitting at the bottom of the bag, nestled between paper-wrapped cutlery and a plethora of sauces, were two takeout boxes from my favorite sushi restaurant.
CHAPTER22
Vivian
“Pay attention,micetta,or you’ll chop your finger off.” Greta clucked in disapproval. “No one wants human parts in their dinner.”
“Sorry,” I murmured. I tried to rein in my wandering thoughts and refocus on the task at hand.
If my mother could see me now, mincing garlic in an old cashmere sweater and jeans, she’d have a coronary. Laus did not “toil away” in the kitchen or wear last season’s clothes, but I enjoyed the mindless comfort of cooking.
I’d invited Isabella and Sloane over for dinner, and we’d decided a girls’ cooking night would be more fun than a formal sit-down.
