Silent Prejudice

9

Gia and I talk again on Wednesday once she’s had a chance to digest what she learned. Other than our discussions, the day is blessedly free of drama. Thursday follows in a similar fashion, except when evening rolls around, I’m surprised by a text from Zeno. Zeno: I was hoping we could talk in person this weekend, but Christiano asked me to join him in the Hamptons for a meeting. I smile at his text. He didn’t have to tell me his plans, especially where Christiano was concerned. He’s the boss of the Giordano crime family— Zeno’s boss—and I know better than to expect Z to tell me anything about that aspect of his life. As I begin to type, a trickle of doubt creeps into my mind. Does Z actually have a reason to stay away, or is he avoiding me? If that was the case, why reach out at all? Maybe he’s reconsidering his feelings and trying to slowly back away. I try to calm the doubts and take him at his word, but years of discord between us makes that difficult. Me: We can always talk next week. It’s been good to have time to think. Zeno: Just so you know, I’ve ordered Nevio to the city. He shouldn’t be back at Hardwick anytime soon. I’m not sure how to respond, verbally or emotionally. I hate for Nevio to be kept from his home, but I can’t deny the relief of knowing I won’t run into him at the house. That possibility hung in the back of my mind over the past two days and kept me slightly on edge. Nevio wouldn’t hurt me—not physically, anyway—but I don’t want to argue with him either. Not if he’s going to turn ugly. I assume the reason he hasn’t reached out to apologize is that he’s still upset. I’d hoped he’d come to his senses by now, but that doesn’t appear to be the case. Me: I haven’t heard from him. Not sure if that’s good or bad. Zeno: It’s good, trust me. Me: Will you tell me what happened to him? I may be butting in, but if Z wants open communication between us, then I need to be free to ask questions. Zeno: Some things are better left in the dark, but if you really want to know, I’ll tell you next time I see you. Me: I would appreciate that. For the information and for not being upset that I asked. Zeno: Anything, Isa. All you ever need to do is ask. What I wouldn’t give to feel the rumble of those words spoken against my skin. To see the veracity on his face and truly believe his declaration. As it is, I stare at the digital screen like a child pining for the toys in a*****e window, unsure how to make it happen. To truly believe all of it could be mine. Fortunately, Z saves me the uncertain task of coming up with a response. Zeno: I’m having dinner with some colleagues, so I have to go, but text if you need me. Text if you need me. It’s like he’s reading my mind, saying all the things I’ve always wanted to hear from him. It feels too good to be true, except it is true, if I can find the courage to believe him. To step off that ledge and trust that he’ll catch me. Me: I will. Enjoy dinner. Zeno: Good night, Isa. And I do have a good night, that is until a noise wakes me around three o’clock. Gia is still sleeping soundly beside me, but my brain is whirring like the blades of a fan as I lay in the dark, waiting for the noise again. When a thud resounds from the bathroom, I realize that Livia has most likely woken me, yet again, after one of her not-so-stealthy returns from a night out. The last time she woke me, she was drunk and hardly able to undress. I groan quietly and roll from bed. No matter how annoying she may be, she’s still my little sister, and I feel the need to check on her. She hasn’t locked the door, which is helpful, and I’m pleased to discover that she isn’t completely trashed. “Hey, Isa. Did I wake you?” Her hair is a mess and makeup smudged, but her smile is genuine as she sits on the edge of the tub. She’s had a good night. “Yeah, you’re not the quietest drunk,” I tease her. “I’m not even drunk—not anymore, at least. Nevio made sure I drank my water this time.” She slips one of her wedge sandals off, eyeing me coyly for my response. She thinks she’s teased me with a juicy nugget of gossip, not realizing what she’s actually done is drop an atomic-sized bomb on the vinyl bathroom floor. My heart thunders in my ears as I momentarily forget to breathe. “Livy, you have to listen to me. You cannot date Nevio.” I move close and drop to my knees so that I’m at eye level with her. The pain in my kneecaps is nothing compared to the overwhelming panic surging in my veins. I have to find a way to make her listen, but I know my sister, and my warning will only make her want him more. As expected, her initial surprise quickly fades to irritation. “Why the hell not?” Livia would be the absolute worst person to tell about Nevio’s paternity. Everyone in New York would know within the hour. And besides, I already told one more person than I was supposed to. There’s no way I can tell her the truth. How can I possibly convince her without telling her that she’s dating her own brother? s**t. s**t. s**t!