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“Great. I’ll just put my shoes on.”
“Okay. I’ll go start the car.”
CHAPTER40
Lucy
Hooo boy, this had been a bad idea. An absolutely fuckingterribleidea. I’d only said it because I just couldn’t bear the idea of Dante leaving and I was trying to delay it. Shoving my feet into my boots, I swore inwardly again. Now I was going to have to eat a bowl of risotto around this massive lump in my throat, while making polite, stilted conversation with my soon-to-be ex-husband. Too devastatingly awful. I stood in my bedroom, in front of the wardrobe that was now half empty, pressing my fingers to my eyes, willing the tears away. One deep breath. Then another. I could do this. I was tough.
Plastering a bright smile onto my face, I went to the hall, grabbed my coat, and paused at the front door for yet another deep, supposedly calming breath. By the time I had walked down the drive and gotten into the car, I could barely speak. What would I say anyway?Great weather we’re having. I love you. Did you catch the end of last weekend’s game? Nail biting stuff, hey? I’m going to miss you so much. I can already feel the emptiness consuming me.
It was a short drive into the main square and Alfredo’s. We took it in silence, which made me pull my head out of my ass enough to wonder how Dante was feeling about all this. Relieved? I flicked him a quick glance as he pulled into the curb. His face gave nothing away.
Suppressing a sigh, I got out of the car. My fingers tingled with the longing to feel his hand wrap around mine when he joined me on the cobbled sidewalk. Those days were gone, though. I shoved my hands into my pockets and followed him into the restaurant.
We were quickly seated at a small booth in the corner, and since we already knew our order, because we always had the same thing, we gave it to the server. “So, uh, you said Stef came by to see you before she headed out?”
“Yeah. We went ten pin bowling and had hotdogs.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah.”
I leaned back in the padded booth, linking my fingers together tightly on the table. I couldn’t for the life of me think of another topic of polite conversation, so I just sat there, staring at my hands. Dante didn’t say anything either and when I shot him another look, he was staring out the window. Such a bizarre situation to be in, one with no etiquette manual to follow.Maybe I’ll write a magazine article, I thought. “5 must-know tips for having dinner with your fake husband, who you’re actually madly in love with, before he leaves you for good.” It was so ridiculous it made me want to burst into tears.
Our food came and I forced myself to smile in thanks at the server before picking up my fork. The chicken risotto had been my new favorite thing here for a while now, being pretty much the only one I could eat and still enjoy. Not tonight, though. I took a small bite, noting dully how much it tasted like cardboard and how it got stuck in my throat.
Still, I had to make the most of these last few precious hours with Dante, so I forced another bite. Everything was ruined. Everything was awful. I was filled with such overwhelming sadness and yearning that I could barely move.
“Lucia.”
Oh god, the way he said my name like that, with a tone that still skittered across my skin, brought tears to my eyes. “I don’t want you to go.” Sweet Jesus. I hadn’t meant to say the words out loud, but my heart had spoken before my brain had engaged. I glanced at him just in time to catch something in his eyes, the barest flicker, before it was gone again. I put my fork down, feeling like I at least needed to say a little more of what was in my heart. “But I know I can’t ask you to stay.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m a package deal, Dante. It’s not enough for you to only want half the package. I know you don’t want the baby and I accept that. It’s just…” So much meaning in that word,just.
It’s just that I’ll never get over you.
It’s just that I’ll never love anyone else the way I love you.
“It’s not that I don’t want the baby,cara.It was never that.”
Wait, what? “I don’t understand.”
“Look, I’m not sure I can even explain it, but I’ll try… You obviously know my dad’s a piece of shit.”
“Yes.”
“Well, he wasn’t a piece of shit to me, when I was younger. He was my idol. I wanted, so desperately, to be like him. He was just so much fun, so devil-may-care, such a visionary, you know? Or so I thought. My mom didn’t help, always telling me that I was just like him. It would make me feel super proud when she said that.” He paused, reaching out and turning his water glass on the table absently to give himself something to do while he gathered his thoughts. “But as I got older, maybe twelve or thirteen, I started noticing things.”
“What things?” I asked breathlessly when he paused again.
“Like, how hard mom had to work, even though he was always bragging about how much money he made, what a good businessman he was, how much everyone looked up to him. Meanwhile, his wife was working three jobs to keep a roof over our head. But she never questioned it, you know? She’d just gaze at him adoringly, nod and smile, and tell me I should listen to my father.” He took a sip of water. “I think it was Stef that really did it for me, though. Because he couldn’t have given two shits about her. To me, she was the cutest little angel, so full of spirit and so loving, but he couldn’t have cared less.”
“I hate that for her. She didn’t deserve that.”
He gave me a small smile. “No, she didn’t. Anyway, that’s when I started to see him for what he really was. And I couldn’t stop seeing him that way. It devastated me, because I saw how much my mom put up with and how much she loved him anyway, how completely devoted she was, and what that cost her. It also affected how I saw myself, because she always told me I was just like him. Which meant I was a useless good-for-nothing as well. Too wild, not to be trusted. That was the truth. And honestly, it never really bothered me before. I had a good life, a good job, I was happy. It never mattered. Until you came along.”
