“I missed you,” she mumbled sleepily, lips brushing my collarbone.
“I missed you, too,” I murmured, wrapping an arm around her.
“And…I’m sorry I took a call in the middle of dinner.”
My breath caught with slight guilt. “It’s okay, Sweetness.”
There was a stretch of quiet before she spoke again.
“I talked to Alyssa today.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I asked her about your mom.”
My eyes furrowed together. “Why?”
She sat up just enough to look in my eyes. “Because I saw her calling you today, and I was curious. Alyssa said it’s been bad. Worse than you made it sound.”
I sighed and dragged a hand over my face. “Yeah. So?”
“So?” She repeated with a bit of attitude. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I turned my head to look at her. Her face was unsure, like she was trying not to make it a thing, but couldn’t help herself.
“She disrespected you,” I said. “And I didn’t tell you because I knew this was gonna happen.”
She frowned. “What’s this?”
“This.” I motioned between us. “You thinking you’re the reason we ain’t speaking.”
“I mean ain’t I?” she asked, quieter now. “You’re choosing me over your mom.”
That sentence hit a nerve.
I sat up a little, resting back on one arm. “Don’t do that. Don’t twist it like that.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.” My voice came out sharper than I wanted. I let out a breath to cool it off. “I’m not cutting her off because of you. I’m cutting her off because she refuses to treat the people I love with basic respect.”
Her eyes searched mine. “But why didn’t you just tell me? Why let me think everything was fine?”
“Because I didn’t want to dump that shit on you. You’ve got enough going on,Amore mio. I was trying to spare you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t need you to protect me like that. I need you to tell me the truth.”
My jaw flexed.
She was right, and I hated that she was right. Guilt was swallowing me whole now, and it felt like I was hiding a million things from her. How dare I have doubts about her and Marcus when I had become a vault of secrets?
Tomorrow. I’ll explain it all tomorrow.
Well. At least the important things.
I looked at her hand resting near mine and laced my fingers through it.
“I’m sorry,” I said, steady but low. “I’m so sorry, Carmen.”
