Page 73 of Mafia Wedding

Why does he keep saying I'm 'cute' and not 'beautiful'? People say I'm beautiful all the time, and it's always made me feel like I'm a monster hiding under a mask. But every time this man says I'm cute, he makes me feel so vulnerably human—-

"You're looking at me that way again," he says softly.

"Like what?"

"Like you can't make your mind up if I'm more helpful dead or alive."

"Because I don't get you at all," I mutter. "You know what I am. You know what I can do. So why doesn't it seem to matter to you?"

"Because I like what you are. Or rather...this between us won't even work if you're not who you are."

I know a man has to be crazy himself to want someone like me, but isn't what Rake said a little too crazy?

"Are you saying you don't want me to change?"

"I'm saying I never want you to change."

I'm not empathetic as a rule, but even though his tone is still light, the pain underscoring his words is unmistakable and heartbreakingly familiar. It's the same pain I felt when my sister and brother-in-law were taken from me, and so I know.

"You lost someone," I say quietly.

"You sound like you're hurting for me, darling." A smile touches his lips as he says this, but it's the first time I don't see his eyes twinkle at the same time.

"And now you're changing the subject."

"I am, aren't I?"

"Who was she?"

"Just a girl...who was too good for this world."

I expected myself to feel angry at hearing him talk about another girl, but instead it just makes me feel sad.

"She liked to put everyone else before her first."

Because this man has changed me, and now that our hearts are beating as one—-

It's so frighteningly easy to tell.

That girl is someone he once loved, and I know he said he doesn't ever want me to change, but what if he just doesn't know he's lying, and I can never compare to her?

Chapter Nine

I TELL KAYRA I NEED a stiff drink if she wants me to continue dredging up old memories, and I simply nod when she tells me she knows just the place. The past has me blind to my surroundings, and it's only when we take our seats by the counter, and a familiar voice jovially calls out to me that I realize where we are.

"That you, Drake?"

Well, fuck.

The bartender of Mackie's also happens to be the owner himself, and the older man claps a back over me in hearty greeting.

"Nice to fucking see you again, man."

"You, too, Mackie."

"This young lady your date?"

"This is Kayra, my future wife."

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