Never Truth

32

I excused myself and made my way back to the car. I had a call I needed to make to an old friend to see what I could dig up on this Mikey kid. I wasn’t sure why I was prying into Sofia’s past, but something didn’t sit right with me. Probably came down to unreasonable jealousy. Chasing down some schoolyard crush of hers wasn’t exactly rational. When it came to Sofia, all logical thought exited the building. With each passing day and every minute we were apart, I became more and more certain I needed to make her mine. If only there were an easy way to make that happen. In my gut, I knew there was only one possibility, but it had just as much of a chance to work as it did to backfire in my face. I needed to tell her everything, even if she never talked to me again. It was a risk—not only because she might push me away, but also because I would be breaking my oath for a second time. My need to have Sofia was going to be the death of me, but calling her mine for however long it lasted would be worth that fiery descent into the bowels of hell. OceanofPDF.com Last night was such a disaster. If I had to list all the ways the night had gone wrong, I’d be at a loss as to where to begin. Probably the fact that I allowed Nico to whisk me away in the first place. He had hit the nail on the head when he said it was just like old times. Standing on the patio with him made me feel like I’d slipped through a portal to seven years earlier. It stunned me to discover just how comfortable and normal it felt, despite everything that had come between us. The champagne no doubt played a role in my questionable choices. I could have screamed or put up more of a fight, but I didn’t. No matter how much he had hurt me in the past, no matter how wary I was of seeing him again, he was still Nico. I couldn’t unlove him if I’d tried, which I hadn’t. The most terrifying part was that I didn’t think I ever wanted to stop loving Nico. How messed up was that? He was an intrinsic part of me, and cutting him loose would mean eviscerating an integral part of my soul. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. So where did that leave me? Bawling my eyes out for the better part of the night, that was where. Some of my turmoil had run far deeper than anything Nico had done. Seeing him replay the worst night of my life had brought back all the oppressive emotions linked to Marco’s death. I hurt in ways I’d forgotten a person could hurt. Then the pendulum would swing the other way, and I’d remember the momentary bliss I’d felt when I’d stolen that kiss from Nico in his car. My lips on his had erased all the other hurt and fear. Being in his arms had brought me more comfort and surety than anything ever had before. But it was as short lived as a rainbow trailing a summer storm. When I witnessed the understanding that passed between Nico and my father, the puzzle pieces slid themselves into place, revealing a crisp image of what had happened so many years ago. Nico became a member of the mafia, choosing the family over me. He had become a part of my father’s outfit and, in turn, walked away from me. He could claim he was protecting me or that he was sworn to secrecy, but every rule had exceptions. It had been his choice to push me away. His choice to join the outfit. His choice to keep those secrets. Everything was a choice. Why couldn’t he have trusted me with his secret? Did he think I would tell someone and endanger him? Did he not realize I was already in danger, considering my father’s associations? Whether I knew about my father or not, Nico had to have known, which meant he knew I was already at risk. So how would pushing me away keep me any safer? No matter how I examined what happened, none of it made sense. I could only assume there was more he wasn’t telling me. It was a safe guess —people always left something unsaid. We were creatures of habit, and our most intrinsic habit was the keeping of secrets. I had thought my relationship with Nico was different, but why, I didn’t know. I’d kept my family’s secrets from him, so why wouldn’t he keep secrets of his own from me? I wasn’t purely good or evil. Neither was he. Maybe that meant I should have cut him some slack and recognized that his actions might not have been purely malicious. I’d tried not to condemn him unjustly, but the pain of everything that had happened clouded my judgment. He had wounded me too deeply for me to view his actions from an impartial perspective. Startling me from my thoughts, my mom’s approaching footsteps clacked loudly down the hallway. I quickly threw a drape over the canvas I’d been examining and turned to the door. “Sofia?” she inquired cautiously as she rounded the corner. “How are you doing, sweetie?” I hadn’t spoken to anyone at breakfast and had looked positively atrocious, so it was no wonder she’d come to check on me. “I’m fine. Is it time to start getting ready?” “Just about.” Her lips pulled into a thin smile, her eyes flitting about the room. “You want to talk about whatever happened last night? Your father told me you went out for a bit with Nico.” She came and sat on a stool next to my supply table.