“She pushed past us.” Maria apologized as Romeo pulled himself out of the seat with difficulty. My mom swanned into the room, pursing her lips. She started when she saw the cozy spread but bustled over with a painted smile. I dismissed Maria and the guards with a nod. My mom would have taken offense at being kept outside.
“You’re my daughter, I don’t need to be announced.”
“Mrs. Bianco, what a surprise to see you here.” He brushed clammy lips over her painted cheek before waving his hand to the armchair.
“Please, take my seat.” Romeo insisted, squeezing in next to me instead. A stifled groan escaped him as he sat. Heat poured off him in waves. His hand sought mine, and the clamp of his fingers trapped me. He leaned against me as if he needed support. His composure was commendable.
My mom settled in on the chair with oblivious self-righteousness. Her purse balanced on her knees. She had a colorful scarf wrapped around her hair today and white sunglasses balanced on her head. Her familiar scent of menthol cigarettes made my chest ache.
“Help yourself.” I arched an eyebrow, daring.
What a wonderful afternoon it was turning out to be.
She gulped at the food, still scarred from the silent war I’d waged on her years ago. There was a reason she’d sent me to live with Paolo’s family while she jaunted off around the world. She’d lived in well-deserved fear until she’d cast me off.
What did she seek to gain by coming here now?
“Thank you, my dear, but I’m quite full from a wonderful lunch. Happy birthday, I see you decided not to have a party after all.” Her observant gaze snagged on Romeo, whose forehead shone with sweat. “It’s wonderful to see you, Romeo. Are you unwell?” His grip tightened to the point of pain, his palm a fiery brand. Satisfaction threaded through my insides like silk, with a thread of regret.
“With my beautiful wife and this delectable spread? I’m in heaven. But what brings you here, uninvited?” He squeezed my hand until my bones creaked together. But a cool mask was all he presented to my mom. A small amount of respect filtered through me.
“Anita, may we speak in private?” she asked. It was almost a simper, and nothing good ever came when she attempted to cajole me.
“You can say anything in front of my dear, beloved husband.” I nuzzled Romeo in a sickening display of newlywed affection. My mom smiled, but it was brittle and thin.
“Well, dear. It’s your father.” She admitted, her words honey laced fear. I stiffened, uncaring that Romeo would have felt it. She dared mention my father. A well of fiery anger expanded in my chest, stealing my breath. I turned my head away from her, blinking to stop my eyes from misting. All this time without him, and the loss had never lessened. On this day of all days. Nor the hatred that grew at the person who had ensured my time with him was cut short. She wanted a perfect daughter, and instead, she got an aberration. Someone who emulated everything she hated about her husband.
“Well, darling, he left you money in his will, as you know when you received it. But he also left you a gift for when you were married.” Her eyes darted to the food. “You must understand. When I saw what he had put aside for you all those years ago, I was horrified. I didn’t think it was an appropriate gift for a young woman.” Her eyes widened as my nostrils flared. Romeo was shivering slightly beside me, but to his credit, he was glaring at my mom.
“Where is the gift? You should have delivered it the moment we were married.” Romeo chastised my mom, and she flinched. Her purse clicked as she flicked it open, and she pulled out a faded envelope. The corner curled up as though someone had opened it years ago. A surge of white-hot longing blistered through my veins, but I forced myself to lay the envelope on my lap. I would not give her the satisfaction of seeing me emotional.
“You didn’t approve of a letter?” Romeo sneered, his clammy fingers squeezing mine.
“I destroyed the gift.” My mom fidgeted with the strap of her purse. My breath whooshed out of me as my vision blackened. I’d already been teetering on the edge. Her words pushed me into a state she was right to fear. Emotions surged in color. Red and black, fire and darkness. I struggled to swallow my desire to lash out.
“What did you just say?” I whispered.
I clung to Romeo’s firm grasp, needing something to stop me from leaping across the table. My mom had the nerve to look down her nose. She clicked her tongue as if irritated I was pressing her.
“Anita, if you could have seen what it was, you would understand. He had twisted ideas about what was appropriate. It was too much. You’re just a woman. Now you’re married. This is what I wanted for you, and that gift would put ideas in your head. What would your husband think?” her words spilled out with pure venom, and my shoulders hunched over, acid scorching up my throat.
It wasn’t even about me. She was concerned about what Romeo would think. Or what my hypothetical husband would have made of it. She didn’t care that part of my soul was tethered to my father, and when he went missing, he dragged it to hell with him. Because if she had this from him, it meant she knew what had happened and had kept it from me. She’d thrown away the last gift my father would ever give me.
My breathing was erratic. My chest ached as if her clawed hands invaded my insides, unpicking the stitching that held me together. I unraveled. Thoughts raced, crushing my brain in their loudness and haste.
“Leave.” Romeo’s steady voice boomed.
“It was for the best—” My mom wheedled, but I could barely hear her with the coarse exhales in my ear.
“You are not welcome here or anywhere near my wife,” Romeo ordered.
My mom must have lingered because he roared again, a rattle the only weakness in his voice.
“Leave.”
His warmth disappeared, and I thought that he’d left me, too. I deserved it, having dosed him with poisons after all.
A stray tear sank into the yellowing envelope, and I moved it away.
