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“Okay.” Maria looks dubious, but when I link arms with her, she follows, her energy lifting once again.
“So, how’s the family? Did you tell our sisters how much I miss them and wish they would come visit?”
“I did.” Maria gives me a toothy smile as we exit the library, strolling casually down the hall. “They were overjoyed to receive an invitation. And believe it or not… Father agreed to let me bring them next week.”
I stop short, turning to my sister. “You’re joking.”
“Nope.” Maria pops her p for emphasis. “Actually, it seems as though things are calming down between our family and the Morettis.”
“How so?”
Maria shrugs. “Well, Father’s not going blue in the face ranting about that damn Moretti heir anymore. And according to Maury”—one of our many cousins in the family business—“Leo gave him and a few other Guerras fairly high positions in his new operation.”
“New operation?” I ask, a red flag going up in my mind.
“Yeah, that business with the mayor you were telling me about. I guess things are expanding so rapidly that the Morettis are putting our alliance to better use.”
I release a low whistle, reeling slightly from the drastic shift in such a short span of time. “I wonder what changed Leo’s mind. Last time we spoke, it seemed like the alliance was more of an excuse for the Morettis to trample all over us…”
The subtle remark hinting at where my loyalties truly lie makes me think twice, and I realize that things aren’t so black and white as I had seen them before. It makes me uncomfortable to think of it as “us and them.” Not with Leo on the far side of the line.
“Well, rumor has it that Leonardo Moretti’s new bride has turned him soft,” Maria whispers conspiratorially, leaning in as her hold tightens around my arm. “But we both know that’s a lie.”
“Maria, hush,” I scold, picking up the pace until we’re outside the ballroom and walking across the fountain-laden terrace.
Still, I’m glad to hear that things between Leo and my father have grown more amicable. Maria’s comment would hint that Leo’s taken off his boxing gloves, and it sounds like our father might be more willing to maintain the peace I bartered than I had given him credit for.
It brings me a great sense of relief. Maybe my concerns over Father’s words to Leo were misguided. Maybe he only said them out of genuine concern over marrying me off to a man who had hurt me before. Maybe he was just trying to protect me.
Maria and I walk in silence until we reach the garden, and as our feet crunch along the path, she glances at me with a concerned gaze.
“How have you been? Really?” she asks, her voice soft, inviting me to open up about the horrors I must have witnessed since our last visit.
But I have nothing weighing on my mind except the conflict of whether I have it in me to betray Leo anymore.
“Honestly?” I say, turning to face my sister. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”
Emotion tightens my throat, and tears sting the back of my eyes. I laugh it off, trying to release my sudden weepiness.
“You’re serious,” Maria observes in wonder.
I nod, then loop my arm through my sister’s once more as we continue walking. “Maybe I’m just deluded. But since the day of my fall, it feels as though Leo’s… changing.”
“Well, it’s not completely unheard of,” Maria acknowledges. “People change, Tia. Sometimes, for the better. But that’s a pretty massive shift in the few weeks since you got married. Can you trust it?”
The notion of change hangs in the air, and I consider her question silently for several seconds. “I don’t know yet,” I confess finally. “All I know is that Leo’s shown me more care and consideration—more tenderness than I’ve ever known before.” And he hasn’t asked for anything in return.
That’s what confuses me most. I could understand Leo better when he treated me nicely before asking me to play the good wife when he invited Mayor Romney over for dinner. But somewhere along the way, Leo stopped treating me like a pawn in his game.
Does that mean he sees me as a more valuable piece? Or has he stopped playing with me altogether?
I can’t tell. I don’t know how long I can trust his kindness to last. But I’m dangerously close to hoping he means it this time. That his feelings are real—not just for our unborn child, but for me as well.
As we talk, the prospect of forgiving Leo—actually letting go of the ugly past between us—begins to take root. The idea that he might be transforming, that the man I once saw as a conqueror could be evolving into something else, gains traction. And my heart flutters at the thought that I somehow stumbled upon true happiness.
If my father can let go of past grievances after so many years, can’t I?
“Maybe it’s time I set aside my anger,” I murmur, the words carrying the weight of uncertainty.
