Page 72 of Confession
“She loved you,” I insist. “And you gave her something that I didn’t have it in me to give at the time.”
“And what was that?”
“Someone to put her hope in. She’d already given up on me.”
“No, she hadn’t.”
“Roman was gone. I was angry and bitter and hateful.”
“You were in pain, Vitali. She understood that, even if you didn’t.”
I look away. Fuck, why are we on this subject? I was having such good thoughts.
I sip the wine, but it tastes different now, sharper.
“So can I have the recipe or not?” Quinn asks.
I look at him across the table. I fall in love with him all over again. “Would you make it for me?”
“Yes. But you’ll have to get to it before Sasha. You know how she is.”
“You could put some aside for me, you know.”
“Fine. Recipe.” He snaps his fingers like I’ve got it on hand.
“I’ll have to ask Mario. He may or may not—”
“Oh, please. No one says no to you, Vitali.”
“Except you.”
“And yet you always get your way. Why is that?” He’s teasing me now, but I get serious.
“Because you like it like that. You need it.”
A vulnerable look comes into his eyes. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I do.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Quinn
“Okay,” Lucas says, “I know you don’t really eat sweets, but try this.”
I look up from pouring my coffee. He’s holding a little plate with a chocolate-drizzled biscotti on it. He’s such a sweet kid. I return the coffeepot to its burner and take the plate.
“Everyone keeps giving me food.”
“Well, you know what that means.”
“Not really.” I splash half-and-half into my coffee then use the biscotti to stir it.
“You cook for people all the time, Quinn. You know what that means.”
I glance at him. Fucking kid.
I take a bite of the coffee-soaked biscotti. “That’s delicious,” I mumble around a mouthful.
Lucas grins. “Really?”
