Page 47 of Splintered Security
“Mrs. Heidelberg. Please, Anni.”
“Oh.” I can’t help but allow the syllable to escape.
Ren sits straighter, holding my hand, and says, apropos of nothing, “Well, that’s convenient.”
“How’s that?” His mom looks puzzled.
“There’s only one Mrs. Gallo in the room then.” With that, he extends my hand—with its diamonds glistening in the light—toward his mom. “If the rumors are that Anni and I are married, they’re founded.” He turns to face me, continuing, “And I couldn’t be happier.”
He just threw down the gauntlet, and I am the obstacle his mother has to overcome.
His mother’s face hardens. “Lorenzo.” Her admonishment is almost chiding.
“If that’s anything other than congratulations, Ma, keep it to yourself. You raised me better than to make anything, or anyone, more important than my wife.”
I was wrong. I’m not the obstacle. I’m the trigger he just used to detonate that damn gauntlet.
Tension pours off her in waves. I can feel every ebb and flow. Without thinking, I squeeze Ren’s hand tighter.
His response is simple. “Ma, you’re welcome to stay. Anni’s hungry, so I’m cooking.”
“Lorenzo—” She begins, but Ren cuts her off as he stands.
“This is her home, so making her feel less than she deserves won’t be tolerated.” He extends a hand to me.
I accept, dying a little on the inside. The pain on her face slices with the force of a thousand razor blades, while his words are a healing balm for my splintered soul.
I sit at what’s become my spot at the bar while Ren preps rigatoni and red sauce. From scratch.
When I think his mom has relaxed slightly into the circumstances of her only son’s new life, I ask, “When did you remarry, Mrs. Heidelberg?”
Before she can respond, Ren swiftly corrects me. “Call her Diana or Ma.”
We stare at each other. She is clearly angry, and the challenge on her face indicates she doesn’t like either of those options. I’m so uncomfortable with her dismissal of me, I pull some hair behind my ear and push back from the bar, excusing myself for the bathroom.
I don’t need to go, but I need to breathe, and all the oxygen had been sucked out of the kitchen.
I wasn’t good enough for him as a kid. August wasn’t good enough as his best friend. And here, in what Ren has called my home—no matter how hard it is to wrap my brain around that concept—is another reminder that I’m not good enough.
I spend enough time that they’ll think I have issues if I don’t return. But I still take a moment to toss on a bra and rub a washcloth over my face, removing what’s left of last night’s makeup that I wasn’t worried about until Diana Gallo Heidelberg decided to show up to dispel rumors she didn’t want to believe.
Her voice is raised as I leave the bedroom to make my way to the kitchen. I block it out, but cannot ignore Ren’s reply.
“Don’t make me choose. You won’t like my decision.”
“Lorenzo.” His name is a gasp of pain on her lips.
I clear my throat, only to be met with two sets of blue eyes—her medium ones and Ren’s inky ones.
“Ma?” He calls. “Want to hear about Anni’s dress or see a couple of pics?”
“I’d like that.” She turns to me, and the fire in her is gone. Her posture is one of a woman who firmly knows her role has changed, and not in her favor. “You have photos?”
I do everything I can to placate her hurt. The confrontation makes me anxious, and I don’t have any more room for anxiety. Heath has taken up all that space in my life, and more.
I pull out my new phone, noticing for the first time that the detritus of my old one is nowhere to be seen. “We only have a couple.”
Her face falls when she takes in the photo. “I wish I could’ve been there,” she says on a whisper. “You both look lovely.” She rubs a hand down the screen not meaning to switch apps, but ends up in the browser where I was researching jobs in the area.
