Page 53 of Better Left Unsaid

Oh, if only he would’ve asked me that when Dom and I had first gotten here. My answer would’ve been very different than the one I was about to give. “I am, thank you.”

“Good to hear.” He looked down and continued walking through the church. My eyes fell on the larger-than-life crucifix that hung from the center of the back wall of the church, and I thought about everything that happened here today.

Miracles really did happen, and I felt so much lighter having come here and done this.

Chapter Seventeen

Maria

I was goingto invite Jade to Isabella’s sixth birthday party. I’d given it a lot of thought, and I was finally in a place where I felt like that was the best decision. And entirely my own decision without the influence of my sisters or Dom. My logic was simple really—it was a family event, and Jade was family.

Speaking of Isabella’s party, I wanted it to be perfect, just as I always did, which was why I had always hired Marge, the best event planner in Long Island. While Marge could handle everything, I never let her handle the cake. No, that was my domain.

Now I knew what you were thinking. . . .Maria totally has to bake that bad boy.And it was true, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I kicked butt in the kitchen. Although, I never baked Isabella’s cake. Instead, I chose every detail with care and had my favorite little Italian neighborhood bakery do the baking.

Which was exactly what I was doing today as I sat at a table against the window, flipping through the binder of designs the couple who ran the place left with me. My family and I had been ordering from them for as far back as I could remember. In fact, it wasn’t just my family, either—Dom’s family loved this place, too, relying on them for everything when they weren’t upstate. The woman, Liliana, was actually friends with Dom’s nonna. They played bridge together every week.

I brushed a hand over one of the laminated pages, in awe over the floral detailing on one of the cakes. That right there was art. I was about to take a photo of it and send it to my sisters when a notification popped up.

Dominic:What are you doing?

Maria:Picking a cake for Isabella’s party.

Dominic:Want some help?

Maria:*sends photo*

Maria:Thoughts?

Dominic:She needs a cake fit for a princess.

Maria:I agree. I’m at Liliana and Giovanni’s bakery. Are you close by?

Dominic:I am actually. I’ll swing by. Be there in ten.

Maria:Drive safe.

Dominic:Spitfire and I always drive safe.

Maria:You love that damn car.

Dominic:Spitfire is family.

Maria:LOL. I’ll see you soon.

I continued scanning through the book, finding only a couple I liked. I blew outward and placed a hand on my chin. I didn’t know why this was always so hard.Maybe because I’m not just a control freak, but a perfectionist. Oh well, minor details.

What I knew so far: the cake had to be hot pink and orange. They were Isabella’s favorite colors at the moment. She had wicked good taste if you asked me because I thought they really popped together.

“Maria, sweetheart, are you doing okay?” Liliana asked, her hands folded in front of her as she stood beside me, looking over my shoulder.

I smiled. “Why is this so difficult?”

Liliana grinned, the lines around her lips showing as her smile practically reached her eyes. “You say that every year,” she teased. “If I’ve learned anything in my years of living, it’s that things are only as difficult as we make them.”

“Are you trying to tell me I overthink things?” I chuckled, trying to make light of it.

She winked. “Your mother was the same way. She’d run herself ragged over the smallest things. Swore that these occasions happened only once for her children, and she wanted everything to be—”

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