Anthony’s fidgeting hands show panic as he closes the space between us, forcing me to put my phone on the bar and look up at him. “I’m glad to see you here tonight. I’ve been wanting to call you, but I don’t know where to start.”
With a thousand insults on my tongue, I muster the willpower to hold them in.
“I miss you,” he says, and my jaw drops. “I made a mistake—a stupid mistake—and I want to make it up to you.”
I narrow my gaze at him. He looks like the Anthony I dated. Same black hair and dark eyes. Same chin dimple and impeccable dress. Same ten-thousand-dollar Rolex on his wrist that he got for graduating high school—I later learned he’d paid someone to take his final exams. Yes, he’s the same Anthony I dated. That right there is the problem.
“No, you don’t.”
“I do,” he states emphatically. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman. It just took me too long to realize just how perfect we are for each other. Our families get along, and we enjoy the same things. We had fun together. All the memories of us here, on vacation, at parties, or going to the clubs … it was a good time.”
The more I learn about the life I was too blind to see, the more I start to see all aspects of it for what it was. A show. We dress the part, we speak the words, and we do as we’re told. It’s all for the face of the family. It’s fake, right down to the relationships we keep.
“You want back in my father’s good graces. You want a woman who is subservient to you in public because you know she won’t cause a scene. You want what you don’t have.” I stand and make myself eye-level with him. “This is too convenient. You showing up here tonight and making this announcement is almost comical.”
“I was going to call you—”
“I don’t want you to call me any more than I want you to walk up to me and announce how sorry you are. I want a fighter. A man who will leap over a bar to protect me from gunfire. Someone who will run into the darkest alleyway and pummel a man to the death for me. A man who will stop at nothing to protect me.” I smile as I add, “Who will argue with me, and for me.”
“You’ve changed,” he accuses as he leans back on his heels and appraises me.
I shake my head. “No. I’ve always wanted those things. I just never said it out loud before.”
I glance over his shoulder and see my uncles walking into the room. Anthony and I both know they’d never do anything to him out of respect for his father. It doesn’t mean he still isn’t intimidated by them.
“I think it’d be wise for you to go back to your family dinner now.”
He puts his hands in his pockets and scrunches his mouth. Anthony has never liked losing.
He stomps off, and Uncle Joey stops him to talk while I go back to scrolling through my phone.
When I gaze up toward Jesse, he’s not looking at me, but he has a smile on his face.
Chapter Twelve
If I thought I’d get any information out of my mother with Gia around, I was sorely mistaken. The two spend the entire dinner talking about anything but my father. It also doesn’t help that Anthony is sitting a few tables away.
“I already told you, there is no way I’m getting back together with a man who cheated on me,” I tell her after the third time she’s brought it up.
Even Gia has to agree with me. “He’s gross, Mom. And what kind of respectful daughter are you raising by telling her to run to a man like that?”
I high-five my sister. “That’s right. Sorrentino women aren’t doormats.”
Mom guffaws. “We also don’t marry beneath us. That boy comes from a good household. I’ll go to my grave before I let you marry anyone other than someone who comes from a reputable family.”
My shoulders fall. “You’ve never said that before. That’s the kind of thing I expect from Uncle Frankie, not you. I thought we were free to pick whoever we wanted.”
“Of course you are. So long as he comes from a good Italian family and is approved by your father and me.”
She picks up the dessert menu and orders the cheesecake. Gia gets the lava cake. I pass on dessert.
I never thought of my parents as antiquated thinkers. Clearly, I was wrong.
I’m a grown woman who honors her parents, yet I refuse to allow them to choose who I’ll spend my forever with.
Mom grabs my and Gia’s hands and gives them a squeeze. Her eyes mist over as she looks at us lovingly. “I’m so happy we were able to do this. I needed my girls tonight. This was very good.”
She kisses both our knuckles, and I decide this isn’t the time to argue.
“We’re happy you’re happy,” I state, and she raises her hand to my cheek.
After dinner, my mother talks for ten minutes about how unhappy she is that I’m not going back with her. I win over her approval by saying that I’ll be over for dinner on Sunday.
We get in our cars—after I check the back seat of mine—and drive away. They drive to my parents’ house while I circle the block and return to Villa Russo.
“Back so soon?” the attendant says.
“Forgot something inside.”
I walk in and head to the bar. Jesse doesn’t seem surprised to see me. In fact, he doesn’t acknowledge me at all.
I use the restroom and then bide my time, talking with friends of my parents who were on their way out. We chat in the lobby for a while. When they leave, I make a show of looking for my phone that I swear I lost.
When the last of the dining room has emptied, I realize the club must be closing
