Marc looks down at Brisa. “She’s hated you her entire life.”
It’s not a threat. God, what have I done.
“That’s enough!”
His eyes get a look that I haven’t seen. Again, it’s frightening, but not for me. I’m scared for him.
“But don’t blame her when she acts out. It can’t be helped. Your sister is mentally ill.”
“Ranger!” Brisa yells.
“Tell her, Tris, tell her!” he demands.
When I see Ranger, I look at Marc and plead, “Go with them.”
“Tell her!” he yells, and I jump.
I look at Brisa, hoping if I do as he asks, this will end. “I’m fucked up, okay? I don’t hate you specifically. I hate everyone, including me. I’m fucking bipolar!”
His eyes are taunting now. He sees the fear, so I step in front of Ranger and poke him in the chest. “And you’re going to be happy one day. Just not with me. Our monsters don’t dance well together. Matteo knows how I feel about you—”
“He has no clue how fucked up you are, does he?”
“Tris”—Matteo grabs my elbow and pulls me back—“let’s get you inside.”
Walking away, I attempt to play on any shred of decency he may still have. “I’m not like that when I’m with him. I’m happy. Be happy.”
“Fucking ruined! You hear me, Tris? Your whole fucking Crew is going to be ruined!”
Ranger grabs him and drags him toward the door. Somehow, he breaks free and lunges at Matteo.
Matteo doesn’t move, and Ranger grabs him by the hair.
I cry out to Brisa, “Go with him. Make sure he gets back to Sabato and Mel. Tell them I’m sorry. And, Brisa, cancel tomorrow. I just can’t.”
“Tris,” Matteo whispers, and I look up at him as my body shakes. “I just want us. Me and you. Just us.”
“Then that’s what you’ll have.”
Inside the room, I crouch down and curl into a ball, wanting desperately to be alone with my monsters because, right now, if I had to choose the tormenting they dish out over the hurt I have caused, I would let them tear me apart. “I am so sorry. I am—”
He sits on the floor beside me and pulls me onto his lap. “I know that wasn’t easy for you. I know it hurts. And I know that was his intention. That’s not love, Tris. That is someone who wants to hurt you, and you keep allowing it.”
“I don’t deserve you. I’m fucked up, I know. But I love you, and I thought if you chose them … if you didn’t love me, at least I would be close and maybe we could be friends.” I slap away tears. “And it was selfish. And now I’ve hurt him again, Brisa, and the worst, I hurt you.”
He hums while wiping my tears and shaking his head. “You showed me love in a way I never expected. You were willing to sacrifice your health to stay in my life.”
“And how is that sane? How is that okay?”
“We need sleep. We need to rest our worries, and if you need to talk about it tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, we can. But nothing will be resolved until we have clear heads.”
“God, see?” I grab his face. “You have a headache, don’t you?”
“Language barrier, not you. Bed, please? Rest.”
I stand up and climb into bed. He stands and takes a second before doing the same.
Once in bed, he wraps his arm around me and pulls my head to his chest. Then he reaches over and taps something. Music begins to play softly as he reaches up and turns out the light.
“Te quiero, Tris. Descansa.”
“I love you. I love you so much. Please, believe me.”
A new day
Matteo
I wake in the dark, alone. Fear grips me that she has somehow disappeared, and I quickly get up, grab my phone, and look at the time.
It’s noon.
I see a message form her and several missed calls.
Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I hit the screen and hold the phone to my ear as I walk to the bathroom.
“I’m glad you returned my call, Matteo. We need to talk.”
I will never blindly hit to return a call again. “That’s not unnecessary. Everything that needed to be said has been said.”
“I was expecting that response, but I am asking you to give me thirty minutes of your time.”
“Your son took approximately that amount of time from my wedding night. Work that out amongst yourselves and lose my number.”
“Matteo, there are dozens of lives at risk if you do not fully understand what kind of questions could arise if we do not sort out—”
“I’ve looked into you. I want no part of your life, your dealings, or your money.”
“I will not ask for another moment of your time after this.” He now sounds irritated, and that shouldn’t give me pleasure, yet it does.
“Hey, Matteo, this is Melyssa Effisto. Excuse the last name and all. We’ve had to keep it because, as you, know money is power, and if we gave up the name, the power would go with it. The power I’m speaking of involves women who have been abused on various fronts and—”
“With all due respect, Mrs. E—”
“Not asking for your respect; just thirty minutes. And, unlike my husband, I’ll say please, and I’m not too proud to beg.”
“This is a manipulation tactic, and I don’t take—”
“Matteo, when you’re at war, and not the kind of war you see on the news, you use any means possible and work side by side with a man who comes off as a total asshole, but his bark is much worse than his bite. So, again, thirty minutes, and we’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you’d like.”
“I could schedule you in after my honeymoon,” I say, hoping to make her angry enough that she kills the call.
“Four o’clock sounds perfect. We’ll meet you at the little outdoor café in town. Caffe Plum.”
“I think your time would be best served keeping track of your son.”
“That’s taken care of. He’s spending some time with Thor and—”
“I don’t care to know anything about him. He is nothing to me. But my wife would prefer, as she told him before his exit last night, that he is to find happiness as she has.”
“Yes, he will heal, as will his broken nose and—”
“I’m sure Ranger was given no choice.”
“That we can agree on. Now, how about that meeting?”
“I haven’t agreed to a meeting.”
“But if you don’t show, I’ll just keep bugging you until you do. Hope to see you soon.” And she hangs up.
Brisa walks in as I set my phone down.
She looks at me, eyes sad, but hues of green are more abundant, telling me something is also brought her happiness.
I step toward the threshold where she stands. “I woke to a cold bed.”
She wraps her arms around me and hugs me. “That won’t happen again.”
I embrace her the same. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Leaning back, I glance down at her. “You’re happy, no?”
“I think so.” She pushes up on her toes, seeking a kiss, in which I won’t deny, not ever.