There was no place I’d rather spend my birthday. Of course, the place was crowded with a bunch of people I either didn’t know or wouldn’t trust with a single secret of mine. But if a big, flashy party made my sister happy, I’d smile and make small talk with everyone.
Glancing down at the other end of the bar, I saw three of my old high school friends clamoring for more than just Christian’s cocktail skills. So much for making sure the birthday girl never has an empty glass.
“You know how we feel about divorce.” Mom dropped another not-so-stellar comment on me. Wrapping a hand over my shoulder, she urged me to face her. “We’re Catholic. Your father and I think—”
“What, that I should’ve stayed with Thomas even though he slept with other women?” I finally whirled around, giving up hope on that drink. “Cheating is a sin, Ma. I’m pretty sure that’s still frowned upon at the church.” I loved her to death, but she needed to let go and stop trying to run my life.
“You didn’t let me finish.” She dropped a dramatic sigh on me. “I was going to say that your father and I believe in the sanctity of marriage unless your husband is a cheating asshole.” She frowned at her accidental slip of a swear word. “Thomas was never right for you, and it was my fault I pushed you to marry him. I steered Natalia the wrong way in the past, too.” She showed me her palms as if in surrender. “You should celebrate being single at twenty-nine and enjoy your life. You know, meet new people, date a little. Maybe try some dating sites.”
“What?” I fake-laughed. “So I can get asked by a dozen different men my favorite color? No thank you.”
“Well, I promise I’m going to do my best not to play matchmaker anymore.”
My eyes widened in mock horror. Reaching for her, I joked, “Who are you, and what have you done with my mother?”
She chuckled. “I’m trying to change, my dear daughter.” Her Italian accent I loved still clung to her words. “But change takes time.”
Speaking of change. I looked around the crowded bar area, searching for one of the few people I did want to talk to, but I didn’t see Enzo anywhere.
“Maybe not with Enzo, though.”
“What?” I whipped my attention back to her.
“Don’t ‘enjoy’ yourself with Enzo, if you catch my drift. I see the way you look at him. He’s not good for you.”
Ugh, her and the air quotes. What was with everyone trying to warn me away from Enzo?
And great, now my head was back in the past, and my sister’s words to refrain from falling for a Costa echoed all around me. I could also see vividly the girl I once was, the one who’d ignored Natalia’s warning, standing in Hudson’s office with her whiskey-stained shirt, swollen lips, and a semishattered heart.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for everything he’s done for your sister.” The beginning of Mom’s lecture brought me back to the uncomfortable present, and she snatched her Moscato from the counter.
I painted on a fake smile and bit down on my back teeth to keep my mouth glued shut.
“I’m glad he was able to move here to help her with the restaurant, because he’s a phenomenal chef, and talent like that shouldn’t be wasted. I know his mother’s happy he’s turned over a new leaf while living in Charlotte, but . . .” Her hesitant pause was textbook dramatic from her.
I decided to let her unfinished sentence hang in the air while I once again flipped through the pages of my mind, landing on more recent memories, ones Enzo also owned.
To be honest, I’d been a bit shocked a man like Enzo would truly give up his fancy life and the money that came with it in New York to run my sister’s kitchen. Of course, I hadn’t exactly kept up with his life since our one and only hot moment. When he’d arrived in town two years ago, it’d been the first time I’d seen him since New York on my twenty-third birthday.
It’d also felt like time had stood still when our eyes met, and a rush of energy had moved through the room and slammed into me. I’d heard only the erratic beating of my heart as his eyes journeyed over my pregnant stomach.
And then he’d offered his hand as if we were two strangers who’d never shared a kiss, and I’d nearly vomited.
From that point on, I’d decided if he wanted to act like nothing ever happened, then so be it, and so would I. Plus, I’d been married and pregnant, so it made sense to erase that hot memory from my mind as if it were only an Etch A Sketch drawing.
“Maria, are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Mom snapped her fingers, trying to shake me free from my internal monologue. I swear, in another life I’d be a character in a book or movie and not a living, breathing person.
“You think I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me invite the Costa family to your wedding to Thomas?” This wasn’t a question she expected me to answer, so I continued to keep my mouth shut. “Your taste in men is like mine. Well, before I met your father, at least. I do know you, and that’s why I’ve done my best to ensure you avoid the same mistakes I made.”
I had to say, I didn’t see that coming.
“I thought men like Thomas were the safer option for you. I was wrong, but I was just trying to protect you.”
I’d never wanted safe when I was younger, I’d wanted the kind of love that was all-consuming. But my search for it had led me to Enzo . . . and he hadn’t wanted me. So I gave up on the idea of a book boyfriend materializing in real life to give me a happily-ever-after, and I gave in to Mom.
Not-so-spoiler alert, her picks were all wrong for me. So wrong that, as of two weeks ago, my ex and I had officially divorced after a nine-month separation. In North Carolina, we were supposed to be apart for a year before the paperwork could be finalized. For whatever reason, Thomas finally had a change of heart and confessed the truth to the lawyers and judge about his infidelity. And now I was a free woman earlier than expected.
The crazy thing? Even to this day, Thomas still blamed Enzo for our marriage failing, not the fact he cheated.
“Ever since that man moved to Charlotte, you’ve changed. Hell, you’re probably fucking him at your sister’s restaurant,” he’d yelled during our blowout fight last November after I’d confessed he’d pocket-dialed me while he’d been out of town and having sex with another woman.
“I stopped loving you long before he came here. And I’m wondering if maybe we never actually loved each other at all.” I’d snapped back the ugly truth I’d been hiding from everyone, including myself.
But had I cheated? Not once. I may have been unhappy, but I’d been faithful.
Never crossed any lines. No late-night texts with Enzo, or anyone for that matter. Nope, I’d been a loyal and faithful wife.
“Before your father, I was attracted to the bad boys,” Mom revealed; then she turned to the side, putting eyes on my dad as he bounced my daughter, Chiara, on his knee at a corner booth. He cupped the back of her curly-haired head and then nuzzled her ear with his nose, which had her giggling.
“So you’re saying you always set me up with guys who preferred golfing and checking their stock portfolios to—”
“Tall, dark-haired men with tattoos who would ruin your life.”
“Easy with the stereotypes, Ma.” Damn. “I take it someone with tattoos broke your heart?”
“Maybe,” she said, and the somber look in her eyes told me she might still be mourning the loss of a relationship from more than three decades ago. “I’m not just thinking about you,” she went on. “Chiara adores Enzo. And what if he gets bored with Charlotte and leaves? He’ll break two hearts, not just one.”
Yeah, that reminder poked a hole in my heart. It was hard to believe my daughter was eighteen months old, and Enzo had been in her life since birth. The supposedly “dangerous man” was a baby whisperer, too.
“We’re only friends.” I hadn’t meant to follow that with a sigh of disappointment. “It’d be hard on all of us if he were to up and leave, Natalia especially.”