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Luca
Theshoulderofmyshirt was stiff and damp from hours of my sister’s tears. My guts had been raked and twisted from her sobs and the pain she hadn’t even begun to hold back.
I’d been the one to tell her what Miller had done.
Clara chose to kill the messenger by throwing herself into my arms and letting me feel every ounce of her turmoil. She keened her husband’s name. Begged for me to make it untrue. Bargained for me to cover for him. Then screamed he should never see the light of day again.
Our parents couldn’t comfort her. My mother tried to tell her to be calm for the sake of the baby, but Clara was inconsolable. She cradled her belly and rasped her apologies to the baby kicking inside her.
My father dealt with his own rage. Like me, he wanted blood. He’d taken Miller in as his son-in-law, had treated him like family, given him an executive position at Rossi, all for Miller to spit in his face.
I’d spent the day with them. Holding Clara. Telling my father he had to calm down, or he’d end up having a second heart attack. Forcing my mother to sit down before she ran herself into the ground.
Saoirse had asked me if I’d wanted her to come, but I’d declined. Instinct told me Clara needed privacy to express her grief without restraint. Saoirse could come tomorrow, or the next day, when Clara was ready for her brand of comfort. And she would be. Even though she’d barely been coherent, Clara had asked about Saoirse.
“You should be with her,” she said, shoving at me with weak arms.
“She’s fine, Clara. Saoirse’s working today, but she’s been texting, checking in on you.”
Her head fell on my chest. “You’re such a good husband. Promise me you won’t hide anything from her. Promise me you won’t hurt her like this.”
“I promise I won’t hurt her.”
A great rolling sob racked her body. “Miller wasn’t supposed to hurt me. I know you never liked him, but I loved him so much. He was sweet to me and—”
If I had the chance, I didn’t know how I’d be able to stop myself from killing him. Lucky for Miller, he turned himself in to the FBI last night. Based on my private investigator’s contacts within the bureau, Miller confessed to everything. Even more than what had been uncovered.
In the part of me that hadn’t been charred by cynicism, I wondered if he’d turned himself in for Clara’s sake. If he felt guilty for putting her through this.
But that was probably giving him too much credit. Most likely, he’d sensed the blade dropping. Turning himself in was the only way he could save his own neck. No doubt his attorney would be angling for a plea deal.
When I entered my condo after my never-ending day with my family, all I wanted was a replay of last night, My wife in my arms. Her hands on my face. Sweet words in my ear.
But I was greeted with laughter. Saoirse’s and Miles’s.
That wasn’t uncommon since they began working together. To be honest, it had always put a smile on my face because it meant Saoirse was happy.
Tonight, it was nails on a chalkboard. All the hairs on my arms stood on end. My immediate, gut-churning reaction was betrayal. How could she be laughing when I’d spent the day holding together my crumbling family?
My logical side knew these feelings were irrational. But that side of me had been worked to fucking death today. All that was working now was my hindbrain, which took major offense to another man making my wife happy on today of all days.
It only got worse when Miles came strolling out of their shared office with Clementine in his arms.
My fucking cat.
“Hey, I thought I heard the front door.” Miles grinned and stroked Clem’s back. The little traitor barely glanced at me.
“I’m surprised you heard me.” I tossed my keys and phone down in the ceramic bowl Saoirse had added to the small table in the entryway. “Is your workday over?”
“Yeah. We’ve been done for a while. We were just hanging out. I’m gonna head home, though.” He gave Clementine a kiss, then set her on the ground. “By the way, remind your wife to move her stuff out of the apartment. If there’s anything left when I move in, it’s mine.”
My hand froze midway to my face. What the hell was he going on about?
Luckily for me, Miles was a talker, so he filled me in without asking.
“Have you been to Elise and Saoirse’s place? It’s sweet. The views are killer, and my big ass fits in the bathtub, no problem. I’m only living there temporarily while the lead paint gets removed from my house’s walls. Apparently, that’s dangerous or something. Don’t tell Saoirse, but I used one of her candles last night. And her bubble bath.” He laughed at himself and clapped me on the shoulder. “All right. Good to see you. Have a nice weekend.”
Miles exited without waiting for me to say goodbye. Which was good because I was still trying to wrap my head around what he’d just said.
