Page 42 of Of Vows and Betrayal

“Why don’t you ever say her name?” I ask, my voice trembling slightly.

“What?” He looks at me, taken aback.

“My mom, you never say her name. You call her ‘your mama’ all the time, but I’ve never heard you say it.”

“Diana,” he says, his voice cracking on the last syllable. The sound of her name hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken memories. “Names carry your identity, and I have never earned the right to use it.”

I look at him, the man who has always seemed so distant and unyielding, and see the cracks in his armor. He believes he’s protecting me, but I wonder if he’s also shielding himself from reliving his own heartbreak. The lines between duty and love blur, and for the first time, I feel the weight of the path laid out before me. It’s a path fraught with sacrifices and heavy with expectations, and his story makes me realize how easily love can complicate everything.

“You have to let him go, Ophelia. Nothing good can come from it.”

I don’t ask him who he is talking about or deny anything. I won’t insult him after this moment of raw emotion we just shared.

“What is happening? With Mr. Carmine,” I ask, changing the subject. “He seems angry at you.”

He waves his hand. “Nothing for you to worry about. Issue with the business. You know Dario, he’s always stressed.”

No, I do not know Dario, but I know my father, and I can see it’s more than just a little issue. It runs deep.

“Romero is not a bad choice,” he says, and I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince me or himself.

“No, he’s not bad.”

He nods, and we finish our coffee in silence. For the first time since I met him, I delve into the mess of the relationship he had with my mother. He was in over his head, and I can’t start to fathom the amount of guilt he must carry. A mess… At the thought, Javier’s face flashes in my head. I think it’s the right time for me to hear this story because I don’t think I would have understood the compulsion a month back. Now I do; it’s not all right or wrong, black or white, because if Javier wanted me, I would have probably given myself to him, consequences be damned.

The last thing I expect after my little tantrum is Javier reporting for duty the next day and to come find me in the garden as if nothing happened.

“I’m not planning to go anywhere,” I tell him before turning my back on him.

I feel petty, I truly do, and in the grand scheme of things, I know he didn’t know anything. He rejected me for good reasons—I am much younger and also the daughter of his boss. A boss, I suppose, he doesn’t like very much, andhe’s stuck in this situation because he wanted to do the right thing and stepped in to save my life.

I’m about to turn around, to apologize, when he speaks.

“So, Romero, huh?” His voice is full of judgment, and it grates on me.

I cut a red rose and turn around, trying to face him with a cool expression. It shouldn’t be that hard; I see the Mafia women wear them all the time.

“Why does it matter?” I ask, attempting to maintain my composure.

Javier’s eyes narrow slightly, a flash of something unreadable passing through them. “Just seemed to come out of nowhere.”

I shrug, keeping my face neutral. “It’s a logical choice, isn’t it? This is who we are. Gambinos stick together.”

He purses his lips. “It seems that you fight it so hard.”

What for?I think. I look down as I dethorn the rose. “My father sold the store.”

He didn’t tell me, but Julia did. She texted me this morning to tell me that the “sold” sign was up, and as much as it hurts, it’s also cathartic. The last piece of my past is now gone—the support I had is also gone. All I have is me.

“I’m sorry.” He cocks his head to the side. “I… I would have expected this news to wreak havoc, not to have you here, mellow and creating bunches of flowers.”

I frown at the accusation in his voice. “I think it’s time to let go, stop fighting the inevitable.”

“What happened yesterday, Ophelia? What—” He runs his hand through his hair. “What happened? Things don’t change that much that fast. You can’t go from being thebrightest star in a dark night to…” He points at me. “To this.”

I flinch. The insult is more hurtful than anything because I am considering becoming this. Laying down my arms and stopping the fight. I am putting myself at risk, my father, and my friends, but how can I explain that to him? I am sure he will always see wrong in my actions. It’s so obvious that Javier is all fire, the first one to lead the assault and whatever will be, will be.

I clear my throat. “People change, Javier, and sometimes they end up becoming exactly who they swore they’d never be.”

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