Out of the Dark (20 page)

She stops and stares at me. “I’m not saying that you love
Enzo
. I’m saying that you are not
in love
with Stefan.”

We’re both motionless as the truth she’s just shown me sinks in, as my heart and mind absorb and recognize her words.

I clap my hand over my mouth. I agreed to marry a man I hardly knew because I was attracted to him and enthralled by his lifestyle. I thought it was love.

I made a mistake.

The tears begin to flow, and my sweet mother pulls me into her embrace.

“Oh, I see why you thought it was love, honey. He’s charming and handsome. I see why you fell so hard. I just want you to be happy, baby, and I hoped you would be with him.”

I’ve been forcing this. I’ve been pretending. This was never the life I wanted.

“This is such a mess, Mom.” I sob. “What am I going to do?”

“You have to figure that out for yourself. No one has to live with your choices but you. You got swept away by this life, and it is a
beautiful
life, but you need to decide if you want to have a nice life with someone you like, or a great life with someone you love.”

My mother knows which life I want, but it’s easier said than done.

“Should I tell Stefan what happened?” I wipe away the last of my self-pity tears.

“If you choose him, and you know you’ll never be untrue again, then keep that indiscretion to yourself. If you decide you don’t want this life, telling Stefan about that kiss will be easy compared to telling him you don’t love him.”

The rest of our walk is silent and my shoulders are heavy with the weight of what’s to come.

I say goodbye to my parents at the house that afternoon and let Stefan take them to the airport alone, using the excuse that it’s too hard to see them go. I want to find Enzo and talk about my feelings while I know Stefan is miles away.

When my search through the house comes up empty, I walk down to Cuore della Terra. The sight of Icarus sleeping at the door lets me know I’m in the right place, but when I walk inside, I don’t see him. Natalie is tending bar. She seems happy to see me, and I feel silly for being jealous of her now.

“Can I get you a drink, Carina?” she asks as she chops limes.

“I’m looking for Enzo, actually.” I note her eyes narrowing.

“He’s in the office. Just go through that door, down the stairs, and to the left.”

“Thanks.”

My heart is in my throat and the blood rushes and pounds in my ears. I feel an impulse to run to him and to run away from him at the same time, but I know I have to do this.

The door is ajar.

I knock.

“Come in,” Enzo calls out.

I smile at the sound of his voice, push the door open, and find him sitting behind the desk, rummaging through papers. A simple black cotton shirt makes him look severely sexy.

He looks up and takes a breath when he sees me—a small gasp and then a smile. “Hi, Cari. Close the door.”

I want to slam the door, climb over the desk, and kiss him, but instead, I push it until it clicks quietly shut.

“I’m glad you’re here. I want to talk to you.” He stands, tossing his pen on the desk, and then walks around to me.

I clasp my hands behind my back, not trusting myself to be this close to him without reacting.

He leans against the wall next to me and crosses his arms over his chest as if having the same thought.

I feel drawn to him and every inch of my skin heats.

“Cari, last night . . .”

Last night was amazing
.

“. . . last night, I was very drunk. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I disrespected you, and I want you to know how sorry I am. I love my uncle very much, and what I did would devastate him. I’m sick to my stomach thinking about it. I’m just glad it didn’t go any further.”

Regret. He feels regret
.

The blood freezes in my veins.

As he should. As I should . . . but I don’t
.

“If my uncle found out about what happened, I doubt he’d ever forgive me.”

“Or me.”

“Then you understand why nothing like that can ever happen again?”

Enzo’s right, and I’m trapped in my own little hell and handcuffed to a miserable fate.

“Yes.” I hear myself say the word even though every part of my body and soul screams
no
.

His hands fall to his side, and he looks deep into my eyes.

I wonder if he can see I’m lying.

“I’m glad you agree.”

“So, I guess it wasn’t so
perfect
?” I quote his own word back to him.

His expression changes, and he looks as if he’s struggling, as if he’s a prisoner, too. Trapped between what he wants and what he thinks is right.

Or maybe I just want him to be
.

I’m envious of him doing what I cannot and making the right choice, but then I think about kissing him and the way it made me feel inside. The way it felt as if he had spoken to me without words.

“No. It wasn’t,” he says.

“You’re a liar.” I can’t believe I let the words leave my lips.

He smiles, but it’s not sincere. “Everyone lies.”

I hate that this is how it has to be, but he’s right. I need to ignore the feelings that I have for him. I need to do what’s right.

“Goodbye, Enzo.” I turn and leave—the room and the bar—as quickly as I can in a rush to go nowhere.

I wander through the vineyard for what feels like hours, contemplating all that has transpired. I need to focus on what’s important—we came from Italy to New York to help care for Stefan’s elderly mother. That’s a much more noble cause than my self-indulgent narcissism and foolish desire.

It’s late afternoon when I leave the vineyard and head to the house. In the kitchen, there’s a vase of roses left over from the party. I forever smell their scent in Nonna’s room, but I’ve never seen any. I fill the vase with fresh water and climb the steps to her room.

She’s awake watching some court show on television. She smiles when she sees me carrying the flowers. “Oh, how wonderful! A pretty girl with pretty flowers. Come sit by me. I haven’t had a visitor since Nora brought me my lunch. How’s my son doing?”

I place the vase on the night table and sit in the armchair beside her bed. “Stefan’s good. He worries about you.”

“Yes, my son does know how to worry. He worries that things will fall apart if he’s not in a hundred places at once. He’s just like his father was.”

I consider what she’s said and think about Stefan trying so hard, in his own way, to keep things from falling apart. “Like the man who spins the plates . . .”

“What’s that, dear?” Nonna asks.

“I was just thinking about, you know, the man at the circus who spins the plates? Balancing them on sticks while they spin? He tries to keep them from falling.”

Nonna turns her attention fully on me. “He has a good heart, that’s what matters, honey. There were many times I wished my husband could’ve been around more, but his heart was always in the right place. It took me a long time to see that. I shed many tears over it. I hope you know Stefan loves you. He loves us all.”

Nonna understands my life better than I thought
.

I make a fist and dig my nails into my skin. I focus on the pain to keep me from crying.

I’m a horrible woman. I’m a shitty person
.

“I know he loves me.”

“That’s good, dear. Love is what will get you through the hard times, and there will be plenty of those. Plenty of good times, too. Your children . . . watching them grow.”

“Stefan doesn’t want children. He told me he thinks he wouldn’t be a good father.”

She waves her hand in front of her face and scoffs. “Oh, honey. Men say all kinds of silly things. If we listened to them, nothing would ever get done. If you want a family, he’ll give it to you. That’s the kind of man that Stefan is.”

I stare out the window at the setting sun and imagine my children, a daydream that I’ve not allowed myself to have for some time, but when I see their faces, they look like Enzo.

“I hope you like the flowers, Nonna.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you for visiting, dear. Come and see me again soon.”

As I head toward the stairs, happy that my visit with Nonna made her feel better even as it made me feel worse, I stop short when I hear Enzo’s voice coming from my bedroom.

“I think I should go. It’s time. If I’m ever going to advance in the business then you’re going to have to send me at some point. I can handle it. I’m ready.”

“That’s just it, Lorenzo. I don’t want this for you. I don’t want this life for you. Your mother wouldn’t have wanted it!”

I make no move to leave as I listen to the two of them locked in what sounds like an old argument.

“I know that! You’ve told me a hundred times before, but if not me, then who? Who will take over for you? It
has
to be family. That’s the way it’s done. Are you and Carina planning to have children? Because your son is the only one who can do it if you won’t let me.”

“I wouldn’t want my son to live this way, either, but no. No children.”

I sit at the top of the stairs, perfectly still.

“I have to take a stand here, Uncle Stefan. I’m coming with you to the city. I’m
going
this time.”

“No!” Stefan shouts and then lowers his voice. “No. I can’t let this become your future. The things that I’ve done . . . they haunt me. Countless men have
died
by my order or by my own hand. I’ll see all of their faces in hell, and I won’t let you carry that on your soul!”

The word
soul
echoes in my head as the fog that has been covering the truth begins to lift in my head.

“A life of crime is
my
legacy, Lorenzo. I don’t want it to be yours. I want you to run the vineyard. When I die, I want the Savano family out of the mafia. Our predecessors used the vineyard as a front, as a way to funnel money, but I want to use it to
legitimize
us, so that no one else has to die!”

The world is spiraling and I’m freefalling. Everything is clear.

I’m engaged to a murderer
.

A criminal.

All the phone calls, the traveling. It wasn’t for the vineyard. It was for the
business
. The Family. The mob.

I cover my mouth with my hand, trying not to breathe.

I’ve been so blind
.

All the money. The secrets. Everything that went on in Italy. I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to believe it could be true.

I’m a fool
.

“Alfonso isn’t going to let you out.
No one
gets out. This is
our
legacy whether we like it or not. Please, just let me in, Uncle.”

I hear Stefan sigh heavily before he responds.

“All right. You’re right. You can come with me to New York. We’re leaving in the morning.”

The swarm of emotions rushing through me condenses into one—fear. I’m afraid—not for myself, or for my husband—but afraid for Enzo’s life.

Whatever they’re going to do, I don’t want Enzo to be there. Something could happen to him. Something could take him away. Stefan knows what he’s doing. Stefan can handle anything. He always returns unscathed. But not sweet Enzo. I have another vision of running away, and this time, Enzo’s beside me.

I’m dragged out of my panic-induced fantasy by the shrill sound of a ringing phone.

“Yes, this is Stefan. I’m glad you lan—yes, she’s here. Let me find her.”

I move toward the doorway just as Stefan opens it.

“Oh, good. Carina, the phone is for you. It’s your father.”

I walk past Enzo, who’s avoiding my eyes, and take the receiver from my fiancé.

“Hello?”

“Honey, it’s Dad.” My father sounds awful.

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know how to say this . . .” his voice drops off, and I hear him sobbing.

There’s only one reason my father would be crying.

“Honey . . . your mother . . . she’s dead.”

No.

A cloud descends, and I drop the phone with acid in my throat. My knees bang to the floor. I vomit into the garbage can. I scream.

There’s movement around me.

The cloud engulfs me. I scream again, and my chest rips open. I can’t believe it.

He’s lying. It’s a joke. Someone made a mistake. She can’t be dead she can’t be dead she can’t be dead
.

Something soft is beneath me, and I curl into myself. I close my eyes tight and listen to a loud wailing noise that I know is my own voice.

This isn’t real. It’s a lie. This isn’t real. It’s a lie. It’s a lie it’s a lie it’s a lie
.

I hold my breath and try to will my heart to stop beating. Eyes still clenched tight, I drift off, letting myself get lost in the cloud.

All this time, I could’ve been with her, but I thought of nothing but myself. Now, I’ll never be with her again. I don’t want to be alive
.