Savage Pride

21

He helps her again with her chair, and I exchange a glance with my dad. He shrugs, and I stifle a laugh. We each fill our plates, then return to the table and eat. Conversation is easy, which is a relief. With Mom absent, both Livia and Marca manage to be on their best behavior. That or Liv is simply preoccupied scoping out the guests for potential dates. Either way, lunch is a pleasant change of pace, and I’m thoroughly grateful. Livia is the first to finish and excuses herself from the table. I’m not sure where she’s hurrying off to, but I’m afraid to ask, so I don’t question it. Marca stays seated with a frown. I get the sense she wanted to follow her sister but was refused. I have no doubt Marca is much better off right where she is. Minutes after Liv disappears, Zeno wanders over to our table. “Z, we have a seat open here. Why don’t you join us?” Carter stands and motions to the unused place setting Mom would have occupied had she been with us. The seat next to me. His eyes shift from my father to me before he stiffly lowers himself into the white folding chair. My teeth grind together at his palpable discomfort. After witnessing his ability to be civil, his irritability toward me feels like an even greater affront. Maybe you should sit next to Cora, who is equally as disappointed with her present company. “I can’t stay long. I’ll need to check in with my mother. Today has been exceptionally hard on her.” I could tell you were worried by the way you didn’t comfort her at the funeral. I have to bite my tongue to keep my thoughts to myself. I’m tired of the whiplash I get trying to keep up with his moods. One minute, he’s opening up and helping me, and the next, he can hardly stand to occupy the same breathing air as me. My patience is wearing thin far faster than it should, considering he just buried his father. “Surely, you have enough time to get a plate of food,” Carter says. “No, I’m not hungry. I hope you’ve enjoyed everything, though.” “Of course,” Cora coos from across the table. “Everything has been lovely today.” “Excellent,” Z murmurs. His eyes lift to mine but slice away as if I’ve somehow sent him a telepathic electric shock. “I have to get going, actually. Make sure you get some dessert before you go, and if I don’t see you before then, thank you all for coming.” “You’re leaving?” I blurt, my control finally shattering. I’m sick of feeling like a leper in his company, especially when we’re around anyone else. He can’t get away from me fast enough. And if that isn’t bad enough, he forces his brother away as well, like he doesn’t want my taint to spread to anyone in his family. “I have over a hundred people at my house right now. I have obligations,” he says tersely. I lean in and whisper, “I don’t believe it has anything to do with that.” Zeno turns to the others with a tight smile. “If you’ll excuse us, please.” He stands and wraps his long fingers around my upper arm, carefully tugging me along with him as he leaves the table. He doesn’t stop until he’s dragged me through the French doors of his office and tucked us away from prying eyes. We stand inches away from each other, his towering form caging me with my back to the drapes. The waters in his oceanic eyes are raging when he blasts me with his stare. “Do you have something you’d like to say to me?” My chest rises and falls as I struggle to catch my breath—not from the walk but from the adrenaline surging in my veins. A cataclysmic storm has been brewing between us since the moment I came home. Maybe even for years. I’ve tried to be tolerant and understanding, considering he lost his father this week, but my own hurt has grated away at my patience. “Your need to escape our company … my company … has nothing to do with checking on your mother or any other responsibilities.” The bottled-up emotions I’ve been carrying spew out with my words. “Then what exactly are you implying?” He’s so close. Close enough for me to smell the spice of his cologne and feel the fiery heat radiating off him. He’s nearly as furious as I am, but he’s doing his absolute best to rein in his temper. Good. Let him be angry. Let him show me proof that the friend I grew up with is still in there somewhere behind the heartless machine he claims to be. “I think you’re arrogant—too proud to be seen with the help. That’s your problem—your damn pride. You want to become king of the Giordano family and can’t possibly associate with a lowly soldier and his family. You’re hardly near us for two minutes before you can’t wait to get away. That’s what I think.” I expect my attack to instigate an all-out war, but it has the opposite effect. A veil of placid indifference falls in place over Zeno’s features. The tendons no longer strain in his neck, and the fine lines of fury gathered at the corners of his eyes simply vanish. The change is instant and absolute. When he finally responds, his words are a jagged cliffside, coarse and brutally sharp. “I don’t want to be your family. You’re absolutely right. But if I’m to blame for the situation, then it is my loyalty rather than arrogance at fault. Loyalty drives me to forgive when I cannot forget because family is everything. If you think me weak because of it, that is your problem. Do not pretend you are without flaws of your own. Your intentional ignorance keeps you from seeing life’s truths. If our mutual shortcomings combine and lead you to conclude that I am something I’m not, then little can be done to correct the matter.” Zeno takes a slow step back before turning and stalking out of sight into the hallway. I feel as though his departure has stranded me alone on a small island. I am bereft, and I don’t know why. My hands tremble as I look around with unseeing eyes and attempt to sort through what happened. He mentioned forgiveness, but what had been done to him to require his forgiveness? Who had hurt him? Surely, he couldn’t mean me. I’d done nothing but act as a punching bag for his bad temper. I think back to that painful week when our friendship ended, but just as I have tried countless times before, I can’t identify the reason for his rejection of me. He insinuated I was failing to recognize something obvious, but how could I possibly change that if he didn’t give me a hint? If arrogance wasn’t behind his behavior, what was? I slump helplessly onto the worn leather sofa in his father’s office. It may be Zeno’s office now, but the room hasn’t been touched. It holds tight to his father’s memory. Mementos sit on shelves along with books and framed photos of a happy family. The essence of him is so strong in this room that I almost feel like he’s still here. Still alive. “What am I missing, Silvano?” I whisper, only to be met with silence.