When She Loves (The Fallen, #4)(92)

I told her to go, but there was a part of me that hoped she wouldn’t listen.

A part that I’m going to have to bury.

I sit on the edge of the bed, prop my elbows on my knees, and hang my head between my shoulders.

Funny how one’s life can change in the span of a single day.











CHAPTER 40











CLEO


A week and a half later, I sit down for dinner with everyone in Vale and Damiano’s home in Casale Di Principe. I stare at my hand-painted dinner plate. It’s beautiful. A blue and white pattern with birds, flowers, and leaves. It reminds me of the plates we had at my wedding.

I’ve grown up a lot since that day.

The months of my marriage made me realize something about myself. Something that feels like a fundamental truth. The kind that once you see it, you can’t unsee it. It follows you everywhere, a lens through which you perceive your past in an entirely new light.

I always thought my defiance and constant rebellion were proof that my parents didn’t get to me the way they got to Gemma and Vale. I never bought into their shit. If they wanted something from me, I’d do the opposite. I knew how to ignore their expectations, how to spit on their vision for my future. I thought that made me strong.

It was after I went back to Loretta’s after she first kicked me out that the truth dawned on me. Standing there on her doorstep and humbling myself before her…that was hard. Rebelling against my parents was easy. It made me feel better about myself. It was something I leaned into when I felt like I was crumbling inside.

So really, I’d been lying to myself for years. My parents did get to me. Deep down, they made me feel worthless. To them, I always was and always will be worthless. They broadcasted that message with their every word and action, and I’d believed it. No matter how I’d lie to myself or pretend otherwise, I’d believed it.

It was because of Rafaele that I started to believe something else.

He fed me a new narrative about myself. A reframing of my existence. And it felt good. Boy, it felt good. Which is maybe why it hurts so bad now that I know it was all a lie. He didn’t see my worth either. I was a plaything, an amusing fixture in his rigid life. Until I was no longer fun. It was so easy for him to say goodbye.

I glance up and catch my sisters exchanging a concerned look. Since we arrived here, they’ve given me the space to… I don’t even know what, to be honest. Grieve?

Yes, that’s the right word.

The man I loved broke my heart.

My marriage has collapsed.

And Nero…

I suck in a deep breath.

Nero is dead.

“Mamma called me today,” Gemma says. “She’s selling the house. She wants to live in the Hamptons full time.”

Vale nods. “That’s probably a good idea.”

“She asked if we want to get any of our old things.”

“I’m good,” Vale says. Like me, she’d rather gouge her eyes out than spend time with our mother.

But Gemma’s too kind. She sighs and moves her food around with a fork. “I don’t know. I was thinking about going there for a bit to help her.”

Vale frowns. “She’s got plenty of help, trust me. All of our aunts and cousins. And if there was ever a time for Vince to step up, it’s now.”

Gemma looks unconvinced, but Ras reaches over and wraps his palm around her wrist. “Peaches, you’ve got to focus on yourself and our baby. You don’t need to solve everyone else’s problems, remember?”

The tension in Gemma’s forehead eases. She gazes at her lover and gives him an adoring smile. “You’re right. We still have lots of work to do on the nursery.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Mari says. “The little outfits you showed me last week gave me serious baby fever.” She glances at Giorgio, who’s sitting beside her. “Who knows, maybe your son will get a cousin in a few years.”

Giorgio gives her an indulgent smile while Damiano chokes on his wine.

“Mari, you’re nineteen,” her brother says.

“I’m nearly twenty,” she says. “Gemma’s only a year older.”

“Having children is a big decision. You shouldn’t do it on a whim.”

Vale snorts a laugh. “Isn’t that word for word what I said to you the other night when you were getting a bit ahead of yourself?”

Damiano’s mouth slams shut.

Mari chuckles. “Hypocrite.”

“Anyway,” Gemma interjects, an amused smile on her face. “I for one can’t wait until we have a bunch of kids running around here.”

The staff come out with the next course, and the conversation gets diverted to something else, but I retreat inward. A vision of a young dark-haired boy with blue eyes smiles at me, and a painful pang of longing echoes through my chest.

God, what’s wrong with me?

I used to hate the idea that I’d be expected to have kids with my arranged husband. But knowing that Rafaele and I will never have a family fills me with sadness now.

I get out of my seat. “I’ve got a headache. I think I’ll go lie down.” The backs of my eyes sting, and I don’t want the floodgates to open at the dinner table. Although it wouldn’t be the first time this week.