Before my son died, his only wish was for the three of us to spend one ordinary day at the seaside together.
But Lorenzo Falcone didn't love me, and he didn't love our son either.
I begged him for that day, over and over, and in the end he gave his word.
Then he vanished the night before we were meant to go, and my son died with that wish still unfulfilled.
I buried him alone.
Only afterward did I find the man who'd disappeared, smiling in a photograph on my sister's feed.
The caption read: "You said once you wanted to see snow, so he crossed the whole water to bring it to you."
I didn't cry, didn't make a scene. I packed my bags and left.
And then Lorenzo was the one crying, begging me not to go.
……
That Lorenzo would burn down everything for Vittoria Valente didn't surprise me.
I had never been the exception to anything with him.
In his eyes I was the woman who'd clawed her way up by any means necessary, a Valente who'd traded on a dead bloodline.
How could I ever measure up to the girl he'd loved all his life?
I came back to the estate from the graveside. This was supposed to be the home Lorenzo and I shared after the wedding, such as it was.
But he rarely set foot in it. Mostly it was just me and Matteo Frost, and the two soldiers who stood at the gate no matter the hour.
Traces of Matteo were everywhere. I cried while I packed.
On the desk by the window I found one of his sparrows, drawn in careful pencil on a scrap of paper, tucked where his father might have found it. I erased every trace of the two of us, mine and Matteo's, one by one.
I was dragging my suitcase down the stairs when I ran into Lorenzo.
He was carrying Vittoria into the house.
His face was tight with urgency as he brushed right past me. The soldier at the door lowered his eyes and stepped aside, saying nothing.
Under the same roof, and yet we could have been strangers.
He didn't so much as glance my way.
I was used to it by now. Anywhere Vittoria was, he couldn't see me at all.
Then he seemed to notice the suitcase at my feet, and he stopped.
His voice was flat, without a trace of warmth. "Adriana Valente. What kind of scene are you putting on this time?"
Vittoria looped her arm intimately around his neck and looked up at me. "Sis, I twisted my ankle. Renzo said we were close by, so he brought me here to see to it. You don't mind, do you?"
Just a twisted ankle.
I watched Lorenzo lower her carefully onto the sofa, then fetch an ice pack and press it to her foot, handling her like something that might break.
Once, when a car came apart around me and left my leg broken, the surgery needed the signature of family, so I called him.
He said, coldly, "A broken leg, not a body in the ground. Why are you telling me?"
But he was the only family I had.
He wouldn't come sign, so I stalled the doctors and troubled whichever friend happened to be free.
Love and the lack of it had always been easy to tell apart.
I said, "Lorenzo, since it's what you want, let's sever the un— let's end it."
I almost made a fool of myself, nearly saying the words blood-bound union aloud.
Because all we'd ever had was a rushed ceremony, witnessed by no one who mattered.
No oath was ever sworn before the Family. No pact was ever sealed.
Lorenzo thought I was only jealous over Vittoria. He didn't even lift his head. "What is this, a new tactic?"
"Since threatening me with your son didn't work, now you threaten me with yourself?"
A year ago my son had been found with a tumor pressing behind his eyes. One notice after another that he might not last the night.
When he called, all he wanted was to see his father.
Lorenzo never once came to see him.
So this was it. He believed I'd been using our son to buy sympathy, to squeeze him.
Ten years of a life shared, and this was all I was worth to him.
I wiped my tears. "Think whatever you want. I'm leaving."
I took hold of the suitcase and started for the door.
Vittoria said, "Renzo, I heard you meant to take Matteo to the seaside. Don't tell me you gave it up to go see the snow with me. That's why she's angry……" Her fingers drifted to the hollow of her throat as she spoke, resting there a beat too long.
Lorenzo comforted her gently. "It's not your fault. Some things matter more than others. The sea will always be there. But once the snow melts, it's gone."
I gave a cold laugh.
I stopped paying them any mind and dragged my suitcase toward the door.
Lorenzo seemed to sense something was off.
He came up and caught my hand, angry. "It's the middle of the night. Do you really have to……"
Then he saw my swollen, red eyes, and stopped short. "It's one missed day at the shore. Is it really worth crying like this?"
These past two days must have wrecked my eyes, because I could have sworn I saw a flicker of pity in his.
"I'll have Gennaro clear the ledger next month and take Matteo out then. All right?"
Next month?
What next month did Matteo have?
If he had cared about the boy even a little, he never could have said something so stupid.
I threw off his hand. "Don't bother!"
Lorenzo stared at his empty palm, thrown for a moment.
He hadn't expected it. The woman who used to want nothing more than to cling to him.
Now she couldn't get away from him fast enough.
When it registered, he moved to come after me, but Vittoria held him back.
"Renzo, this is all my fault. I knew Matteo was only pretending to be sick, but I still shouldn't have taken you from a child, and now I've gone and made her hate me."
Pretending… pretending to be sick?
My mind went blank.
By the time it hit me, I'd already slapped Vittoria across the face.
