Loving her made everything easy. Even the hard stuff. Even the things that would break most other people and brittle their relationships. Because at the end of the hard thing there was an even bigger, brighter thing waiting for us.
chapter forty-three
Natalia
Camilla waslike the final boss in a violent video game.
I’d actually all but forgotten about seeing my parents for the first time since the disaster that was Dad’s birthday dinner. Instead, all of my anxiety was tangled in a heaping, agita-inducing ball of nerves about soothing the hemorrhaging relationship with my oldest sister. If I could get through to her, then it would all be worth it. My expectations were as low as physically possible, so low I wouldn’t blink an eye if she walked in the room wearing off-white. At least then we could talk it out.
The restaurant hosting our rehearsal dinner was Tuscan inspired. The walls were vaulted and behind the bar counter, wine bottles lined wooden shelves backlit with yellow ambient light. Vines twisted around the room’s columns and through rustic trusses as a pianist tucked into the corner played melodic classical music. I was winning all the brownie points with the Durans for this one, and caught my reflection in a pane of glass between the bar and the private event space to give myself a pat on the back.
One long dinner table took up the length of the room with place settings and placards on each plate. I’d opted to hire the venue’s event coordinator to make sure everything wentaccording to plan, and she’d gone ahead and separated each side of our family into their own respective end of the table so there were no awkward musical chairs as our bridal party arrived.
My sisters were already there, floating around the hors d'oeuvres waiting for us. The bubbly prosecco I’d drank in the hotel room to calm my nerves settled like a sunburn in my chest. I squeezed Matty’s knuckles so tight he hissed. “Fuck, sorry.”
“You good?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Great.”
Mateo tugged my chin toward him, the touch of his fingers lingering there as he swept a long strand of my hair behind my ear. “Do you need me?”
“Go buy me some time with the rest of the guests. My mother and father should be here any minute, unless they double-booked this weekend somehow.” My head twisted toward the doors, looking for them.
Mateo swatted my ass, sending me in the direction of my sisters. “Even I don’t think they’d stoop that low.”
I feared we might not have reached the pinnacle of lows my parents would find in our lifetime. I was, however, ready to tackle anything with my husband by my side without the loneliness that was conquering it myself as a young adult.
My sisters were crowded together and made room for me to step into their small circle in the corner of the room inconspicuously. They were all in different floor-length floral cocktail dresses that matched the vibes of Key West in June perfectly. Cami wouldn’t look me in the eyes, and I plucked a stuffed croquette off a small crystal plate in Mia’s hand and shoved it into my mouth to prolong the silence further.
“Thanks for coming,” I managed around a mouthful of soft-shell crab. It was hotter than I anticipated and I crouched over,ha-ha-haingthe burning appetizer. Mia shoved her plate under my chin and I let it drop unattractively from between my teeth.
“Careful, that’s hot,” Bella joked.
“No one saw it,” Mia assured me.
I wiped the scorch off my lips and blew out a breath. Camilla looked at me then. Her soft brown eyes were just like mine, but more tired from long days working in the hospital. She was the most structured woman I’d ever known, even as a kid. Keeping codified planners, picking outfits days in advance, turning homework in early, managing being a multi-sport varsity athlete. She was a lot like Ophelia. A true planner and doer. The weight of the world was on her shoulders as the first daughter of John and Sistine Russo, and my guess was her spite for me at the moment had a lot to do with that.
“We should talk,” I said to her, leaving the floor open. I’d understand if she didn’t have much to say to me, but I’d rather clear the air than wait until after the reception, or worse, never broach the subject again. Camilla’s plum lips thinned but she nodded agreeably.
Mia and Bella peeled away from us on cue, leaving the spit-up croquette plate on the edge of the table to be swept away by the waiter. God, this was uncomfortable. It was like playing a game with a black bear, staying as still as possible hoping it might see you as a friend and not a foe. I thanked my wilderness exploration elective in college for that.
Camilla was not a black bear, though. She was in her own bracket of the food chain.
“First off, thank you,” I started, treading on the side of caution. “For not making a rash decision for the entire family and giving me some time to reflect on how hard this has probably been on all of you, too. I’ve been keeping that in mind, how I’d feel about it if the roles were reversed, and to be honest I can’t give you a straight answer. I’d like to think I would be free of judgment, supportive, proud, and maybe curious. But the truth is I’ll never be able to put myself in your shoes becausewe live entirely different lives. Sometimes I think about you, and what you do and have accomplished, and I can’t even believe we share DNA.”
She twisted her rings around on her fingers, a pop of color splashing across her cheeks in the low light. “Did you know that Dad hasn’t had a drink since his birthday dinner? Completely cold turkey. Not even a glass of wine on Sunday afternoon with Mom. It’s like a switch flipped or something.”
A chill brushed over me. In twenty-six years my dad hadn’t gone more than two days without a beer in his hand or a shot of Baileys in his coffee. She was lying, or mistaken. She had to be.
As if she could sense my disbelief, she continued.
“Yeah, whatever Mateo said to him changed something. He’s a different person. I noticed it right away because he lost some weight, and he was in a better mood on his days off. When we were both in the hospital at the same time, he’d come find me for lunch or just to say hi, which was absolutely foreign.” She scoffed out an annoyed noise and stretched a long finger toward me. “But then I realized it was you.”
“It was more likely waking up in a pricker bush by the pool covered in his own vomit that drove him over the edge.”
“Nope.” Camilla shook her head. “It was your fiancé. It was the threat of losing you to a bigger, better man. And that really shouldn’t have, but it pissed me off,” she admitted gruffly. As if it made her angry with herself. Her attention flitted around the room briefly and then refocused. “I’ve been begging him to care that much about me for my entire life. I did everything he and Mom ever wanted: the grades, the extracurriculars, Ivy League, medical school, residency, fucking unintentional celibacy because no one in their right mind would want to be with a woman who works as much as I do. But none of that was important enough to get sober. Not my graduation, or white coatceremony, or my honorarium. You’d think a man who spent half his time under a surgical lamp would be more proud.”
“He is.” I lurched for her hand, entangling it with mine. “I agree he has a funny way of showing it, but I know you’re his golden girl, Cami. You’re perfect, and you do it all on your own, which is why he doesn’t have to worry about you. I lived for your approval as a kid. I still do,” I pressed. “I’m standing here seeking it right now, because I didn’t look up to Dad growing up, I looked up to you.”
