Page 128 of Casanova LLC

“No, no, no. How could you propose such a thing? As if you know nothing of women. Alessandro.”

“I didn’t want to choose between you and her.”

He stiffened; his chin went up. “Do not make this about me. This is your decision and yours alone.”

I was surprised how quickly my anger spiked. “Bullshit. Like you’d be fine with me ending it all.”

“Would you be?”

“How am I supposed to know? If we must honor the family, make those who parent us proud, tell me, Uncle: how am I supposed to know?” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.

He lifted his hand, readying to explain something to me. “This is why we listen to the past. To those who love us, care for us. They are the wise elders; we are the Young Bulls. They know better.”

“Bullshit again! Like you know better? I wonder what you would have done if you’d found your Forever.”

“I did exactly as you have. Exactly as my father wanted.”

I looked at him, and my understanding of not only the last week, but of our entire life, flipped over on itself.

I was an idiot. Of course my uncle had had a Forever. Hadn’t every Casanova?

But why had he never spoken of this to me? Why hadn’t he prepared me for this? “Who was she?”

“It does not matter?—”

“We’re not doing that anymore, who was she?”

“Silvia.” He said her name like an apology.

I stared at him. “Silvia Silvia?”

He nodded.

Silvia had owned the lace shop on Burano, the one I took Claire to. Her daughter ran it now that Silvia had retired, but Casanovas had been taking guests to that lace shop for generations. Silvia was anything but a passing guest. She’d changed my diapers, she’d wiped away tears and blood when I’d gotten into scrapes, she’d hosted dinners with her boisterous family, and given me extra biscotti. She was practically an aunt to me. She’d been one of Jacopo’s best friends. Her husband had been one of his best friends. “Why didn’t you—how could you have not told me this?”

He shrugged. “Why would I? Until it mattered.”

“It matters now. I want to know everything.”

He took a breath. “We were children together. This may sound pazzo, but I always knew it was Silvia. I also always knew I was to do this. So, she married Luigi.”

“But she stayed in your life.”

“As a friend, only as a friend.”

“But in your life!”

“And I suffered it as much as I loved it.”

My brain was backfiring. “You brought guests to her shop!”

“Sì.”

“You’re Daniel’s godfather!”

“Sì.”

“When Luigi died, she moved away, right? Was that because of you?”

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