Page 50 of Letters From Victor

Relief washed over me, loosening the knot in my chest—until Victor’s expression told me it wouldn’t last. “What then?”

“Did you know that I loaned Frank money several months ago?”

“I didn’t.” My tone was measured, my words deliberate.

“Didn’t think so. Anyway, he paid off the loan in full today.”

“How much money are we talking about?”

“Five thousand.”

I choked on the air.

Frankie looked up, his innocent eyes confused by my reaction. “Mama?”

“I’m fine,” I said, patting his head as I cleared my throat. “Just surprised is all.” I coaxed him back to his milkshake and took a long sip of my own to soothe the sudden dryness in my throat. The sweet treat tasted like chalk. I turned my gaze to Victor, studying his face, searching for his angle, his intent. “What on earth did he need that kind of money for?”

Victor leaned back in the booth, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sharp. “Gambling debts. He was in pretty deep at the track.” He let that hang in the air a moment, watching my reaction.

I shook my head slowly. “I had no idea. He promised he’d stopped…”

Victor exhaled through his nose, the faintest trace of amusement in his expression. “Promises are easy to make. Harder to keep.”

“So, you bailed him out. That was very…generous of you.”

He looked up at me through his long lashes. “Not exactly. Frank pushed through the insurance payouts on a few properties for me. Made sure there were no delays, no complications. In return, I loaned him what he needed to clear his debts and have some breathing room.”

The new information sank in like spilled red wine on white carpet.

“Mama, all done,” Frankie declared, his milkshake reduced to a frothy residue at the bottom of the glass. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing the cream further across his cheek.

“Hold still, sweetheart,” I said, grabbing a napkin from the table. “Let me clean you up.”

As I tended to Frankie, my eyes flicked back to Victor. He watched us with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

“So Frank is in the clear?” I asked, dabbing at Frankie’s face. “No more debts hanging over him?”

“Not from me. But that doesn’t mean he’s in the clear.” He paused, pressing his lips into a thin line. “There’s no way he came up with that sum on his own.”

“Then how…” I trailed off, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

He shrugged. “You know him better than I do.”

“Do I?”

Victor didn’t answer.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you deserve to know what’s going on with the people in your life.” His voice was steady, but something lurked beneath the surface—something that made my chest tighten. He leaned in across the table, his intense eyes stripping away whatever flimsy defenses I had left. “I never want to be the one keeping you in the dark. Ever.”

My heart pounded in my ears. The hum of the ceiling fan and the clatter of dishes from the kitchen blurred into a single, dissonant note.

“The way Frank talked about you had me seeing red, Barbara.” Victor’s voice was taut with restrained anger. “Like an ornament to be kept on a shelf. Like you’re not capable of thinking for yourself. Maybe that would have flown in the lastcentury, but not now.” He shook his head vehemently. “No, not even then. It’s maddening, and you deserve so much more.”

Victor slid his hand across the table, fingers just barely brushing mine. The warmth of his touch seeped into my skin.

Frankie fidgeted in his seat and tugged at my sleeve. “Mama, go now?” he whined, and I saw the tiredness in his eyes—the kind that follows a brief, unsustainable sugar high.

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