Page 94 of Mafiosa
‘He’s just different,’ Dom said. ‘He doesn’t care any more.’
‘He cares about getting rid of the Marinos,’ Gino argued.
‘And what else?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Gino.
‘Exactly,’ Dom sighed. ‘Exactly.’
I picked up my pan, scouring it until my fingers were red raw and the sting in Dom’s words had passed.
When everyone had retired to bed, post-confession, with clean souls, I climbed through Luca’s bedroom window. I crept across the roof, leaving my footprints and handprints in the thin layer of snow like the tracks of a giant toddler.
Luca was sitting at the edge, in the same place he had been on the night of the meteor shower. He turned to watch me crawl towards him.
‘Ever cautious,’ he said softly.
He reached his hand out to help me steady myself. After much manoeuvring, I managed to make camp beside him.
‘Hi.’ I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest. Stupid Dom and his apocalyptic words.
‘Are you cold?’ he asked.
Strangely, I wasn’t. I shook my head. ‘There are no stars in the sky,’ I pointed out. The night was cloudy – the moon just a nebulous smudge.
‘Everything is different now.’ I got the sense he wasn’t just talking about the weather.
I nodded, the sense of glumness expanding inside me.
He tipped my chin up so I would look at him. ‘But not how I feel about you, Sophie.’ He brushed his hand against my cheek, his thumb lingering on my bottom lip.
I blinked away the surprise. I had been expecting his feelings to trickle away, like water, even though mine had blazed ever brighter with each passing day. Still, there was no joy in the way he said it, no whisper of something more – of afuture unfurling before us. It was hard to feel the sense of possibility now, no matter how badly I wanted it.
Still, there was tonight.
‘I bought you a Christmas present.’ I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a small wrapped parcel. ‘It’s not much, and you’re probably going to think it’s really silly, but I wanted to get you something you’ve never gotten before and I thought it might be something special, just for us…’ I trailed off.
He raised his eyebrows, taking the package and rotating it in his hand. ‘I have to be honest, Soph, I’m really hoping it’s another poem.’
‘That was a one-time deal,’ I said.
He frowned. ‘But I love your poetry.’
‘No you don’t.’
‘I do,’ he insisted. ‘I mean, it’s reallyreallyterrible, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love it.’
Before I could stop myself I shot forward and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Open it, before I go out of my mind with suspense.’
He laughed a little, amusement turning to concentration as he unwrapped it piece by piece. Excruciatingly slowly, just to annoy me. I let him have his moment. At least he was being playful.
When he was done and the paper had been peeled away, he let it sit there on the palm of his hand, while he stared at it. This inconsequential-looking black stone with little thumb-print-shaped grooves inside it.
Embarrassment roared inside me.
He obviously had no idea what it was. He just kept lookingat it, like he was trying to figure it out.
Oh God. He thought I was giving him a rock for Christmas.
