Page 84 of Unholy Union
But today, he’s been different.
As everyone sat down to enjoy their meal, he remained silent and barely said a word.
Now as more socializing takes place, he lingers off to the side. He admires some of the plant life in the Bellini Garden, a sweating glass of chinotto in his hand.
His expression is distant, like his mind is miles away. It could be his grief over Mami and Leo, or it could even be the fallout from that stupidNew York Timesarticle, dragging Corsini Construction through the mud. It alleged Papi’s been using faulty materials for low-income projects, and now he’s faced major blowback from the public.
Whatever it is, it weighs heavy enough that I can’t ignore it. I start walking toward him as everyone else mingles.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bloom that shade before,” I murmur, gesturing to the cluster of pale orange marigolds catching the early afternoon sun.
My father glances over, his expression unreadable behind his dark glasses. A hollow chuckle escapes him. “It doesn’t compare to the most beautiful flower of all. My princess.”
Despite myself, I smile like I used to when I was younger.
“How are you doing, Papi? You haven’t said much today.”
He raises the drink in his hand, the melted ice clinking against the glass. “What more can I say? My beautiful daughter is a woman now. It’s a very strange thing for a father to witness. I saw you earlier. With Cato.”
My cheeks warm as heat pulses through me. I bite my bottom lip, the image of Cato’s intense gaze and the way his fingers gripped my waist replaying in my mind like some illicit film reel.
“We tolerate each other…”
“That looked like more than tolerating, princess.” He chuckles.
I glance up at him from beneath my lashes. “I can’t tell if you approve or not.”
“Approve? My dear Sabrina… my approval no longer matters. You’re a married woman now. I gave you away. And though it’s difficult seeing you so grown up, it’s a fact of life I can’t go back on. Just like your brother won’t come back. And your mother…”
His words trail off as he looks back to the flowers.
I can sense how down he’s feeling, even if he’d insist otherwise. It’s deeper than grief or nostalgia. Maybe some form of depression he hasn’t come to terms with.
He lifts the glass again, the chinotto slipping between his lips as he sips contemplatively.
I reach out and touch his arm, curling my fingers gently around his wrist. “I may be married, but part of me will always be your little girl. Your princess.”
He turns toward me, startled for half a second, and then we’re wrapped in a hug that’s tight and familiar and more emotional than expected. His hand presses flat against my back, his chin resting on my head.
“Don’t hold yourself back from falling in love,” he murmurs near my ear. “If that’s what you feel for Cato Valente, then I’ll accept it. I’ll find a way to be happy for you, Sabrina.”
I walk away from the moment still feeling like something’s not quite right, but unsure if I can even pinpoint what it could be. If I were to even broach the subject of therapy with Papi, he would immediately grow defensive and insulted.
He’d remind me therapy is for women and weak-willed, beta males.
Strong, important men like him didn’t waste their time talking about their feelings.
I’m searching for Cato when I come across a different Valente I’d hope to avoid for the rest of the family brunch.
Cato’s mother, Allegra, stands under a stone archway wrapped in vines and jasmine, her silhouette dappled in the early afternoon light. She’s clutching a crystal flute of prosecco in one hand and sporting a tight, unsmiling expression on her face.
I realize as our eyes meet that she was watching me and Papi from across the garden.
“Your father is a haunted man. I’m sure you can pick up on it,” she says. “He reminds me of Augusto’s brother Adriano in that way. Both of them tortured over a woman. It’s a wonder he and Augusto have come to the truce they have, with the blood that’s been shed.”
Her eyes rest on me for a single heartbeat, then she turns and walks off without another word. As if I weren’t already over this family brunch.
I sigh, my shoulders wilting from releasing the deep breath. I’ve spent enough time around the CorsinisandValentes to last me a while.
