Page 60 of Mafia Shade's Reluctant Bride
His expression didn’t change. “I just… don’t.”
“Okay, so you just hook up with random women?”
His smirk faded. “No.”
I tilted my head. “So, what, you’re celibate?”
He scoffed. “No.”
“Then what, Lorenzo?”
He sighed, leaning back. “I just don’t have the time for it. And honestly, I don’t have the patience for meaningless things.”
Something about the way he said it made me pause. It wasn’t just an offhanded statement. It felt…weighted like there was trauma behind it.
I wanted to let it go and change the topic, but the time I had asked him about his father and the business, he had brushed it off with a joke and half-assed answer. But I wanted to know. I needed to know who he was deep down.
“Do you regret it?” I found myself asking,
Lorenzo’s brow furrowed. “Regret what?”
“Leaving when you did.”
For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then, slowly, “No.”
I waited.
He exhaled, fingers tapping against his glass. “I did what I had to do for my mother. The way I see it, I had two options—stay and be stuck in my father’s mess, or leave and make something of myself.”
He looked at me then, eyes steady. “Kind of like how you left.”
My stomach dropped. I stared at him. “That’s not the same thing.”
“Isn’t it?” His tone was calm, but there was an edge. “You left our wedding, Maria. You put yourself first. That’s what I did, too.”
My heart pounded.
I clenched my hands in my lap. “That’s different.”
“How?”
“You left to get away from your father’s mess when he died. I left because—” I stopped myself. Because I was scared and I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know if I could do it.
Lorenzo’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t want to be him. Just like you didn’t want to be trapped in a loveless marriage with me.”
I pushed my chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the floor. “Is that what you think I see this as, a loveless marriage ?”
Lorenzo leaned forward, his voice low but firm. “Isn’t that what you agreed to?”
My hands curled into fists at my sides. “You chose to leave. I—I had to. Not because of you, but because of my child.”
His expression darkened. “No, Maria. You chose to leave, too. You didn’t have to do anything. You didn’t even give me a chance to be there for you. You felt I would reject you because you were pregnant. That is how bad you think I am.”
This conversation felt like it had been brewing up since the day I came back. Lorenzo had not said anything. He had acted like my leaving didn’t hurt him, but now I could see he held it at heart.
My chest burned. “You don’t get to tell me what I felt!”
“And you don’t get to act like I didn’t have my own reasons!”
