Page 43 of Devil's Thirst
Present
When I heardabout the brunch gathering, I decided it would be an efficient way to announce my return and clear the air with Amelie. Two birds, one stone, no more secrets.
The public setting kept drama to a minimum, as I’d hoped, and I can guarantee the entire Moretti organization will hear word of my return within the hour. The ladies are probably all inside the restaurant now texting everyone they know. I need to go back inside and deal with the chaos I’ve stirred up, but my feet have bolted themselves to the concrete sidewalk so long as Amelie is still in view.
I hate letting her walk off into the city alone. It takes everything in me not to follow her, but I can’t. Not until I’ve spoken to Noemi.
She’s the only one who recognized me—the one person I’ve let down most in this world.
At least I’ve learned from my mistakes and won’t repeat them where Amelie is concerned. I’ll keep my tiny dancer safeno matter the cost, whether she likes my methods or not. That’s been our theme since the beginning, and now she knows it.
She may not have recognized me, but sherememberedme. I saw the memories play out in her wide green eyes the second Noemi said my name. She remembers that night as vividly as I do.
I’d told myself it didn’t matter whether she remembered—it was a tiny hiccup in time, after all—but I was wrong. It means more than I care to admit that our interaction impacted her. That despite the alcohol and the brevity of our exchange, she remembered.
The knowledge is empowering. It confirms that I’m on the right path.
“I went by Mom’s grave this morning,” Noemi says softly as she joins me on the sidewalk. “There were pink peonies already there—her favorite. I wondered who … but I suppose now I know.”
I steel myself before meeting her loving gaze. It’s fucked up, but a part of me wishes she’d be angry with me. Avoiding her would be so much easier if she wasn’t so damn understanding.
“It’s good to see you,” I say stiffly, giving her a hug.
When she pulls back, she looks me over with perceptive eyes. “How’ve you been?”
“I’m good. A lot better than I was.”
“I can see that,” she says with the hint of a smile.
“Oh yeah? What can you see?” I’m not entirely sure what she means, and my need to know is too overwhelming not to ask.
“I see a man who’s confident and sure of himself. A man who’s taken ownership of his life. Maturity suits you.”
Fuck, I can’t breathe.
I don’t want to do this. I don’t deserve her kindness, and I don’t know how to explain myself without sounding like a fucking asshole.
“Had no choice but to grow up,” I say with a grimace.
Noemi rests her hand on my arm. “Were they hard on you? I worried about you constantly.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I bite back with more venom than I intend. “I had no option because I was a fucking waste of space. I had to get a clue or let someone put me out of my misery.”
“You were a kid, Sante.”
“Look, I don’t have time for this.” I pull away from her touch. “I need to handle some things.” My eyes cut inadvertently in the direction of Amelie’s departure.
“You have feelings for her?” Noemi asks gently.
It’s so much more complicated than that, but I don’t want to discuss it right now. “Something like that,” I say under my breath. I turn back to my sister and force a degree of warmth into my voice. “I know we need to catch up, and I definitely want to see your little ones, so I’ll come by your place soon. I have some things I need to do first.”
She grins broadly. “Hey, I’m your little big, remember? I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”
The nickname I gave her reminds me of the naive kid that I was and grates on my already fraying nerves. “I’m not that person anymore, Em.”
“You may have changed, but you’ll always be my Sante.”
That’s it. I’m out.