Page 278 of Dante
I move to the next finger.
"Start talking."
Marina
The movie plays on the screen, but I stopped paying attention twenty minutes ago. Sophia sits cross-legged beside me on the massive sectional, her spoon scraping the bottom of her ice cream container.
"You're going to lick that clean," I say.
"Don't judge me. I'm eating for two." She sets the empty container on the coffee table and reaches for mine. "Are you done with that?"
I hand it over. "Help yourself."
Sophia digs in without hesitation. The movie continues playing, but neither of us watches. The compound is quiet tonight. Lorenzo is somewhere with Bruno, probably discussing business I don't want to know about. Dante left hours ago with Nico.
I don't ask where they went.
"So." Sophia licks her spoon. "Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?"
"Tell you what?"
She gives me a look that says she's not buying my innocent act. "What happened. With Dante. Because two weeks ago, you hated him. Now you're sharing a bedroom and looking at him like he hung the moon."
I pull my knees to my chest. "I didn't hate him."
"Marina."
"Fine. I thought I hated him." I stare at the screen without seeing it. "But I was lying to myself. I've been lying to myself for two years."
Sophia sets down the ice cream and turns to face me fully. "What changed?"
Everything. Nothing. I don't know how to explain it.
"I had every reason to let him die. Every reason to call 911 and let the police deal with it. But I didn't. I called you instead."
"Because you're a good person."
"No." I shake my head. "Because some part of me knew. Even then. Even when I was furious and terrified and convinced I wanted nothing to do with any of this—some part of me knew I couldn't lose him."
Sophia is quiet for a moment. "That's not nothing, Marina."
"I know." I press my palms against my eyes. "I tried to fight it. I told myself it was trauma bonding. Temporary insanity brought on by stress and fear and proximity."
"And now?"
I drop my hands and look at her. My best friend since kindergarten. The woman who married into this world and somehow found happiness in it.
"Now I know I can't fight my heart," I say. "I'm probably going to spend the rest of my life wondering what he's doingwhen he leaves at night. Wondering if he's safe. Wondering if the violence will follow him home."
Sophia's expression softens. "But?"
"But the truth is, I trust him more than I've ever trusted anyone." The words come easier than I expected. "I love him, Soph. Really love him. Not the fantasy version I tried to convince myself didn't exist. The real him. The man who watched his family die and still learned how to be gentle. The man who tracked me for two years because he couldn't stand not knowing if I was okay."
"That's either incredibly romantic or deeply concerning."
I laugh despite myself. "Both. Definitely both."
Sophia reaches over and squeezes my hand. "I'm happy for you. Terrified, but happy."
