How many things like that had I missed? And would continue to miss? How long would it be before Primo allowed me to have my family in my life again?
I imagined however long he had in mind would only be lengthened by my resistance to my circumstances.
Maybe it was time for me to at least try to play the part I’d agreed to take.
Maybe if I was kinder and more accommodating, he would ease up with the restrictions, and this would feel more like a partnership than a prison I was stuck in.
I wouldn’t claim it would be easy. The more time went on, the more resentful I was feeling about parts of the arrangement. But if I could just work past that, play the part for a while, then maybe I would be able to negotiate for the things I wanted more of in my life.
Like my family.
“Listen, I’m okay with not knowing how to create the family meatballs. That’s why I have Mom and you. Hey, do you think you’re going to be dragging Primo to Sunday dinners in the future?”
“Oh, God. I hadn’t even thought about that,” I admitted.
But, of course, I would have to, wouldn’t I? They were my family. And he was, for all intents and purposes, my husband. It would be inappropriate for me to say he couldn’t go with me.
“What?” Mira asked when a strange, choked laugh bubbled up and burst out of me.
“It’s just… can you imagine Primo sitting across from Emilio and Anthony?” I asked, somehow able to picture it in vivid detail.
“The scowling,” Mira said, smiling over the rim of her coffee cup.
“Right?” I agreed.
“So, are you going to give me a tour of the house, or what?” Mira asked, waving around.
With that, I gave her a tour, and we ended up back in the living room on the couch, talking about her and our family and the Family.
Until she got a call.
“It’s Emilio,” she said, showing me the screen. “Do you want to talk to him?”
I did.
God, I did.
But would talking to him be stepping over a line? Would it set me backward, make Primo less likely to allow Mira to visit?
“No one is going to know,” she said, handing me the phone then jumping up to make sure no one was around eavesdropping. “Go ahead.”
What was that phrase I’d heard my brothers toss around all the time as kids? Something about it being better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
With that, I swiped my finger across the screen before the call could end.
“Emilio?” I said, voice small.
“Bells?” Milo asked, sounding choked.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I said, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes again, not realizing how much I needed to hear his voice.
“Did you run away? Where are you? I will come get you.”
“No. No. I didn’t. I’m… I’m at my new… home,” I told him, wincing at how forced the words sounded. “Mira showed up here today, threatening to break things and pour grease on other things. You know her,” I added, lips twitching a little as she shot me small eyes from across the room.
“Primo let her see you?” Emilio asked, dubious.
“I know. I was surprised too. I think… I think he’s trying, Emilio.”
“Trying to do what?”
“Not be a complete asshole,” I said, shrugging.
“It’s too fucking late for that,” Milo snapped.
I’d never considered my brother an angry person. That was all Mira’s department. Emilio was always laid back and kind of carefree. Sure, he managed to do work for the Costa Family, but he wasn’t an overachiever or someone who did a lot of the dirty work.
It was weird to hear him angry.
Not just angry.
Enraged.
“I agreed to this, Milo,” I reminded him. “And, really, it’s been okay. It’s like being roommates most of the time. He’s not around much.”
“Roommates,” Emilio scoffed. “Roommates would be able to leave.”
“I can leave,” I told him. “The day after the wedding, I went on an all-day shopping spree. I just can’t leave the area yet. And he has guards with me. But him letting Mira come up and see me today was a step in the right direction.”
Emilio was silent to that, knowing he couldn’t argue, but so dead-set on hating Primo that he didn’t want to claim anything he did was okay.
“I miss you,” I told him, feeling my heart squeeze.
“I miss you too,” he told me. “And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself.” From the side of me, Mira stiffened and gave me the wrap-it-up gesture, making me think the elevator had started. “Listen, Emilio, I have to go. But I love you. And I will talk to you as soon as I can, okay? And I’m okay. You don’t need to worry about me, okay? I’m fine.”
With that, I hung up and handed Mira her phone to tuck away just as the elevator doors chimed as they opened.
“Alright, Sunshine,” Vissi said, addressing my sister who shot him a glowering look at the pet name that in no way described her personality in the least, “let’s get you on your way.”
“Sunshine?” Mira griped, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Yep. Pretty, but will burn the fuck out of you,” Vissi said, getting a lip twitch out of Mira who was determined not to be charmed by him. Which wasn’t easy. Because Vissi was very charming.
“I just got here,” Mira insisted.
“Actually, you’ve been here a couple hours. Long enough to fill her head with all sorts of ways to murder her husband in his sleep, no doubt.”
“If you recall, I didn’t say I’d murder you. Just maim you pretty horribly,” Mira said, shrugging, but she seemed to sense that she didn’t want to push them. So she made her way toward me and gave me a hug that felt like it would break my bones, promising to come back soon, then following Vissi out.
And me, well, I went to the grocery store with Dulles who snuck two king-sized candy bars into the cart, then I made my way back to the warehouse to start dinner.
This time, for the two of us.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Isabella
The tangy scents of red sauce, garlic, onions, and peppers filled the kitchen by the time Primo came waltzing in around six-thirty that night.
“I guess I made the right decision,” he said by way of greeting when he glanced over to see that I’d set the dining room table for two for the first time.
I forced myself to pause, to take a deep breath, trying not to bristle at his words. Because, after all, it wasn’t his decision to tell me who I could or who I could not see. But I was trying to play the long-game here.
My tongue felt slimy when I looked over at him, held his gaze, and forced the words that felt so wrong to say. “Thank you for letting me see Mira,” I said, not sure if my tone came out as sharp as it seemed to my own ears.
In what was probably a good move for keeping the peace, Primo didn’t tell me I was welcome. Instead, he shrugged and shot me a smirk. “She was, ah, determined.”
“Was Vissi still intact after the elevator ride down?” I asked. “He called her ‘Sunshine’ when he came back to pick her up.”