Page 65 of Texting Mr. Stranger

“It’s the light she brings out in my sister. It’s just, justher.” I let out a shuddering breath. Samantha seems like she can’t look away. “It’s everything about her,” I go on. “I know how vague that sounds, but?—”

“Not to me, it doesn’t,” she says, wiping a tear from her eye. “Is that all true? Is that really how you feel?”

I put my hand on my chest. “Ma’am, I swear,” I tell her. “I haven’t lied. I wouldn’t even think about it, not to her mother. If a man is going to pursue a woman, he has the responsibility to make her parents happy. That’s all there is to it.”

“Parents,” she murmurs, emphasizing thes.

“Uh …” It seems like there’s something she wants to say, but I don’t want to presume too much. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Do you want some advice for my daughter?”

“Of course.”

I’ll take any connection with the mother of the woman I want that I can get. She seems like an emotional, sincere person. It seems like she only wants the best for her child.

“Don’t push her too hard, and … trust her. She’s always been wise beyond her years. Believe in her if she has an idea, even if it seems wild. I did that when she came to me as a little girl with hope in her eyes, asking to learn the violin. I believed, and I know it will lead to greatness.”

I swallow a ball of emotion, nodding. Her love for her daughter is impossible to ignore. “I agree, but for what it’s worth, your daughter is already great.”

“I wanted to hate you,” she goes on. “Then I saw this look on my daughter’s face. It was a look I hadn’t seen since she came to me as that excited little girl, eager because she had so much to learn.”

“And you gave her that chance.”

She smiles with a sad quality. “I’m not a saint. That’s what you need to understand. I’m not a hero. You said you wanted to earn the respect of her parents, but her father is dead. He ran out on us when she was a kid. I got word he died two years after that, but I never told her.” Her voice cracks. “I never told her …”

“You wanted to give her hope,” I say, reading her.

“That doesn’t make it right. Oh, God, it feels so good to say it, though—I lied—and not have to keep it inside.”

“She’ll forgive you. She’ll understand.”

“Sometimes, I think I don’t deserve her,” she says tearfully. “She’s just too perfect.”

“We can agree on that,” I say, conviction burning in my voice. “Not that you don’t deserve her. She’s perfect, though.”

When I head inside, her words are bouncing around my head. Maybe that’s why I say yes when she asks me something that should be an instantno. I find myself agreeing to something I never thought possible.

I’m putting my sisterandmy woman in danger now.

CHAPTER THIRTY

MATTEO

Ilie in bed, eyes closed, knowing I need to sleep if I’ll be of any use tomorrow. My mind goes back to the conversation with Bella after I spoke with her mother.“Your sister wants to help; no, she needs to help …”Maybe I wouldn’t have agreed to leteitherof them play if it wasn’t for my brother’s plan, but it’s possible with things as they are—still not risk free.

I turn over when my cell phone vibrates from the nightstand. A smile twitches both edges of my mouth when I see who it is. I wonder for a second if I’ll ever stop reacting like that when she texts me, and I know I won’t.

Are you asleep? I feel too wired, and the performance isn’t until tomorrow night!

At least you’ll be safe behind all that glass.

That was Elio’s insight. In regular circumstances, having performers behind bulletproof glass would be suspicious, but Elio had the idea of creating an artistic point behind it. They’re not hiding but representing society’s need to contain artists or something like that. He phrased it better than me.

What are you doing?she texts.

I smirk.What do you think? Texting you …

Ha ha ha …

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