Page 45 of Good Girl Gone Bad

Chapter Fifteen

“What?” she asked, crossing her arms like a chilly wind had slapped her in the face. Might as well have. She shook her head, registering what she’d heard. “How did it happen?”

“My birth triggered her disease. My father always resented me for it, and you know some of the story. Before her death, she was having a hard time again. She’d been between medicines. Some of them made her very groggy. She slept a lot during the day and stayed up at night. Sometimes, Nico and I didn’t see her for days.”

He massaged his temples quickly, like he wanted to will away a migraine. “I blamed her. I couldn’t connect with her, even though I wanted to, so much. Whenever I wished I had a normal mother, I felt guilty for even thinking that way.”

She stretched out her hand to touch his, but he moved a couple of feet away from her. Sadness at what he’d experienced blended with a building frustration. How come his father had encouraged that crazy train of thought, possibly even instilled it in him? “You were just a kid.”

“When she found the gun from my father’s collection, I saw her walking around with it. I called her, and she came into my room.”

The look he gave her was pure torture. Her spine stiffened, and her breath caught in her dry throat. “What did you do?”

His hands curled into fists. She didn’t try to hold him, just listened, motionless. “Nothing. I could have run and told someone. I could have screamed. I could even have convinced her not to pull that trigger. But I watched her, without saying a word. She stared at me quietly, the haunted look in her eyes so raw. Maybe she found it easier to do it there, right in front of me. She killed herself, and I was her accomplice.”

“Did you freeze?” she managed to ask in a steady voice. The heartbreak behind his words made complete sense. Her chest clutched, and she had to smooth her hands on her dress to keep from reaching out to him again. Damn it.

“Yes. In a way, that part of me is still frozen. It’s better this way. When I tried to unfreeze it once, didn’t work out too well.”

“Is that why your fiancée ended the engagement?”

“I told her what happened, and she couldn’t handle it. I understand. It’s not as if, were we to have kids, we would have a warm grandfather on my side.”

She shook her head, wishing, for the first time in her life, to bitch-slap someone. “She was a superficial idiot.”

“She wasn’t ready to handle a guy like me. She was nice. And sweet…much like you.”

Anger welled up inside. Anger at his father, at his past circumstances…and anger at the woman who didn’t see through him. “Don’t you dare compare me to someone who runs when the going gets tough,” she said, enunciated each word carefully to make sure he heard them.

He inched closer. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said gently.

She lifted her chin, adamant on not backing down. “I’m not hurt. Just setting things straight.”

A sweet smile formed on his lips. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. It’s your life, but if you want to be mad at someone, be mad at your father for not being there for you when you needed him. For blaming you because of his own poor parenting skills.”

“Trust me, I am.” The vein in his neck pulsed. His eyes darkened with resentment. “Why do you think we don’t have a relationship?”

“Then why can’t you move past your mother’s suicide?” she asked, then realized she’d almost shouted her question. She took a long, sharp intake of breath. “I mean…er… I’m asking as a friend. I know our situation is temporary, but you’re a tremendous guy with a lot to give. Do you want to have arrangements like ours for the rest of your life?”

“What is marriage but an arrangement?”

“You’re wrong. Marriage is so much more than that. It’s two souls, two real people choosing to be together through thick and thin. People who pick each other because of both their qualities and flaws,” she said with every ounce of pride she could afford. Her parents’ marriage taught her not to settle for less than what they’d shared.

Marco stared at her in silence, with hooded eyes, and she’d give anything to know what went on in his mind. He probably thought she was a naive, idealistic girl who knew nothing about the world. She snorted, knowing she needed to cool down before continuing the argument. Maybe he isn’t ready to hear it all. Maybe he’ll be able to experience that kind of love, to witness it one day if he’s lucky.

“Listen, I’m going upstairs for a little bit. I need to call my mom. I haven’t talked to her in a couple of days, and she’ll worry if I disappear. Excuse me.”

…

“How are you enjoying your vacation, dear?” her mother asked. She’d fed her some bullshit about winning a ticket in a contest to attend a European tradeshow.

“It’s great,” she said, injecting enthusiasm into her voice and hoping she pulled it off. There wouldn’t be enough time in a confessional chair for all the lies she’d been telling. She should text, but after the discussion with Marco, she needed to talk to someone, even if the subject didn’t involve him or his disturbing father. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, honey, but it’s only a week, right? You’ll be home soon. I can’t wait to hear all your news. Are you making a lot of friends?”

Her lips broke into a smile. “Mom, this isn’t summer camp.”

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