Page 58 of Of Grief And Gratitude

“Don’t say that.”

He spun, eyes wild and glistening with tears. “Why? It’s true. For fuck’s sake, my mother had to watch a video of me stripping all over national tabloid news.”

I couldn’t let him go on believing that, not after what Antonella had shared with me. “She was proud of you, Romeo. She said as much to me—more than once. She understood that you’re different from your brothers, gentler. She said your head for money was better than Dante’s head for business and that you’d probably make the family more than they could imagine if given a chance.”

Romeo waved it off. “She was bragging because that’s what a mother is supposed to do.”

“She told me not to give up on you,” I said quietly. “Because she never would, and you deserve people who will always be on your side.”

A tear slipped down his cheek, and my heart ached for him. For the boy who was never loved by his father and the man who had lost the love of a mother. As I stood and took his hand, leading him to the bed, I wondered if I could ever love him with half the dedication Antonella had. It was too soon to say what I felt for him was more than friendship and affection, but I could offer him loyalty, at the very least.

I sat with my back against the headboard, and Romeo shocked me by curling up next to me and laying his head in my lap. It took me a moment to realize that his body was shaking because he was crying.

“She didn’t deserve it,” he croaked, his hand wrapping around my thigh.

“I know,” I whispered.

“Not just today. Her entire life here.” Romeo’s voice wavered. “My father didn’t treat her well, but she never complained. Never said a word. I knew. We all did. She deserved better.”

What was I supposed to say about that? I didn’t understand his family dynamic because I’d only been surrounded by love. “She was a good woman.”

“I should have done something,” he lamented, beating himself up over something he could never change. “I should have stopped him or taken her away. Maybe if I had, this never would have happened.”

“Sometimes, we can’t control others,” I offered. “Your mother wouldn’t have been better off if your father had killed you for trying to protect her.”

“I didn’t appreciate her as much as I should have.” A sob escaped. “Should have told her I loved her more.”

“She knew.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

I listened and stroked my fingers through his hair as he let the emotions out; until the sobs that wracked his body subsided and his ragged breaths turned more even.

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Romeo whimpered, tightening the vice around my heart.

My eyes welled with tears again, and I silently cried for a woman I’d only known a short time but had meant the world to the man I was growing to care about.

When my legs went numb, and I was certain Romeo had fallen deep into an exhausted slumber, I inched my way out from under him, supporting his head and maneuvering a pillow in place of my thighs. I tucked him in and stretched the soreness from my legs, then wandered into the kitchen in search of a snack and a drink.

I found some tortilla chips and a jar of salsa in the pantry and decided to save the dishes, eating from the bag and jar. As I munched on the chips, I perused Romeo’s whiskey selection, picking a brand I liked and pouring some into a glass.

I’d just downed the whiskey when there was a quiet tap on the front door, and Dante entered, wearing a new suit but looking haggard.

“Hey.” His voice was hoarse, and his usual tall posture gave way to slumped shoulders. He didn’t have to put on a show for me.

“Hi.” I waved and tugged at the hem of Romeo’s shirt, but his brother didn’t seem to notice my state of undress.

“How’s my brother?” Dante shrugged out of his suit jacket, hanging it by the door before making his way to the kitchen and looking at the food I had put out.

“Sleeping.”

He grunted his approval. “Good. He needs it.”

“I won’t ask how you’re doing,” I said, grabbing another glass and pouring a generous amount of whiskey into it before refilling my own.

He nodded when I handed him the glass, knocking it back and handing it to me for more. I obliged, and he finished the second glass in one gulp. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

---