Page 185 of Ricardo

“That one, I will not allow.”

Her eyes flash. “You don’t get to allow my feelings.”

“No,” I say. “But I can object to them.”

She looks as if she wants to argue.

Then her face folds with exhaustion.

“I can’t lose him again,” she whispers.

My chest constricts.

I pull her closer, carefully, giving her every chance to resist.

She does not.

She comes into my arms with a small breath and presses her face against my chest.

I hold her.

For several moments, there is only the sound of her breathing, uneven at first, then steadier.

“What happened to Liliana?” Julia asks softly.

I don't answer.

“I know you know,” she says. “She's Dante's mother.”

Of course she knows. She knows I wouldn't just let Liliana leave our lives like that.

“She passed. About fifteen years ago,” I say quietly. “Overdose.”

Julia presses closer to me.

“There was no one left in her life, so I claimed her and had her buried in a plot that we own. It's unmarked, but I always planned on telling Dante about it and putting a headstone when I did.”

Julia pulls back to look up at me. “You’re not as bad a man as you seem determined to believe, Ricardo.”

My throat tightens.

“I have done terrible things,” I whisper.

“Probably,” she says. “But this wasn’t one of them.”

My arms tighten around her.

“I hope you’re right,” I say.

“I am,” she says and lifts herself up to brush her lips against mine, mindful of the cut.

Outside the study, my house remains silent.

My son is gone.

Julia is here.

For tonight, there is no right move to repair what has been broken. There is only this: her in my arms, Dante’s pain between us, and the truth I have avoided for twenty-six years pressing closer with every breath.