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She blows out a deep breath. “I promised Leo I wouldn’t. Clay was her secret. One she took to the grave.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“Your mother never talked much about her love life before your father, did she? There’s good reason for that.”
Understanding washes over me. Mom had usually been cryptic about certain elements of her past. Her dating life had been part of that—beyond the usual magical story of how she and Dad fell in love, she was vague about anything else.
I never pressed for many details. It seemed like she would’ve told me anything important.
Though, as I listen to Aunt Beatrice’s reluctant voice, another memory comes drifting back to me. One from an evening fifteen years ago when I’d been home for Christmas during freshman year in college…
I stalk into the kitchen to scold Mom for the stunt she pulled leaving me alone with Chadwick. A coy smile spreads onto her face as she pretends not to know what I’m talking about.
“It was very shady is all I’m saying.”
She scoffs. “Shady? You sound paranoid, Delphi baby.”
“You and Dad do hate my boyfriend.”
“I don’t hate the guy. I… I just don’t like that you’re wasting time with him.”
“Good thing it’s my life and not yours.”
“Don’t you dare take that tone with me.” Mom shoots me a look of warning as she helps one of the kitchen staff prepare tonight’s meal. “You may think I don’t understand you, but I do more than you know. When I was around your age, I fell in love with a man from the wrong side of the tracks.”
I arch a brow. “You?!Who?!”
A glimmer of nostalgia passes over Mom’s face before it’s squashed out and her tone becomes more matter-of-fact. “Your Grandma Camille, my mother, threatened to cut off my inheritance. I came to my senses when I realized he wasn’t going to give up his lifestyle for anything. Not even me. I was fortunate enough to meet your father soon after we broke up. He came to one of my first performances with my dance company. Even sent me a dozen roses afterward, asking me to dinner.
“What I’m trying to say is,” she continues with a concerned pinch of her brow, “I’m sure things between you and Salvatore are very intense and passionate. It feels like it’s the two of you against the world. But, remember, Delphie sweetie, you can’t build a stable future with passion and intensity. You need more than that—things like common goals and a shared vision for your future. It’s not all about feelings. Sometimes, feelings do more harm than good.”
In the moment, I had been irritated with her lecture. She was essentially telling me that Salvatore and I would never work out. Our worlds were too different and I needed to stop acting on feelings. I needed to move more rationally.
As issues mounted in my relationship with Salvatore, I had gone with her advice. I had made the decision to take a break from him. I was following in Mom’s footsteps without even realizing it…
“Clay was the bad guy from the wrong side of the tracks,” I say aloud. “Years ago, Mom told me about a boyfriend she was with before Dad. She said it didn’t work out.”
“It didn’t just not work out—she wasin lovewith him. She was inconsolable. It almost ruined her dance career.”
“Why would he reach out now?”
“Delphi, listen to me. Don’t answer that letter. In fact, throw it out. Get rid of it. You understand me?”
“But—”
“Burnit,” interrupts Aunt Beatrice. “You want no part of anything Clay has to say or offer. Lord knows we don’t need to open that can of worms after all these years.”
I can barely get another word in before Aunt Beatrice tells me she has to go and hangs up. I’m left staring at my phone screen more puzzled than before I placed the call. Her behavior completely changed the moment I mentioned Clay.
“What was that about?” I mutter under my breath.
* * *
“I love how we’re now scheduling our mani-pedi appointments together,” Sasha says. She’s riding in the backseat of the town car security’s driving me in.
I turn my attention away from the window and onto Sasha with a subtle smile. “It’s easier if we go together. We can go straight to lunch afterward.”
“I like the way you think. Hear that gurgle? That’s my stomach.”
