I’d spent my life for others, always putting my own needs second. Would it really be so bad if I took what I wanted for once? Never in my life had I wanted anything more than the girl across from me.
Why should I deny myself this?CHAPTER EIGHTLiliana
I stared up at the ceiling, or rather where I knew it was. The darkness was impenetrable, I couldn’t even make out my own hand. Sometimes it felt like darkness was all there was in my life. A long tunnel without an end. Especially at night Mother’s words haunted me. I’d promised her I’d be happy, but I wasn’t even sure how to do it. A deep loneliness filled me, had taken hold of me ever since Mother had died. We’d never been as close as some daughters were with their mothers, but she’d been there, a constant presence. And now it seemed like I was all alone. Of course there was Fabi, but he was young and would soon be involved in mob business¸ and Father…Right now, being here in the Hamptons made me happy but it was a temporary thing.
My sisters, they were always there for me, but they had their own lives, they had husbands, and one day they’d have their own families. They’d still love me, and still take care of me, but I wanted my own happiness, separate from them. I wanted what they had. And I knew the only person I wanted that kind of happiness with was Romero.
He had been watching me differently this summer. In the past years, his expression had made it clear that I was nothing but a girl to him, someone to protect. But recently something had changed. I wasn’t an expert when it came to men, of course, but his gaze had held a hint of something I often saw on Luca’s face when he watched my sister Aria.
At least, I was quite certain. I pushed my blanket off my body and sat up. I didn’t bother turning on the lights from fear of attracting attention and instead felt my way toward the door. I inched the handle down and slipped into the corridor. It was silent and dark, but at least here I could make out schemes. Not that I needed to see something to find Romero’s room. I knew exactly where it was. I had lost count of the times I’d imagined going there. But so far reason had stopped me. Tonight I was tired of listening to reason, of playing it safe. I didn’t want to be alone, didn’t want to spend all night staring into the darkness, being lonely and sad. I crept down the corridor, careful not to make a sound, hardly daring to breathe. When I reached the door to Romero’s room, I stood there for a long time. It was silent inside. Of course; it was already way past midnight and he always got up early for his run.
My fingers shook with nerves when I gripped the door handle and pushed it down. The door opened without a sound. I snuck in and closed it again, then I didn’t move for a long time, only stared toward the bed and the contours of Romero’s body. His curtains weren’t drawn, so the moonlight provided some light. His back was turned toward me and the blanket only reached his waist. My eyes traced his muscled shoulders and arms. I moved closer, one hesitant step after the other. This was so wrong. Romero had caught me in his room before, and worse, he’d caught me spying on him in the shower, but this felt more intimate. He was in bed, and if things went my way, I’d soon join him. What if he sent me away? Or worse, what if he got angry and told Luca? What if they sent me back to Chicago into that dark and hopeless house with my father who didn’t miss my mother at all?
I froze a couple of steps from the bed. My breathing had quickened as if I’d exerted myself and my hands were clammy. Maybe I was losing my mind. I was trying to tell myself that I was doing this because Mother had wanted me to be happy, but maybe I was only using that as an excuse for my insanity. I’d wanted Romero long before Mother had ever said anything, and had even tried to kiss him long before her death.
I shook my head, getting mad at myself for overthinking everything. There had been a time when I’d done whatever I wanted as long as I felt like it. I took another step toward the bed but I must have made a sound without noticing it because Romero’s breathing changed and his body tensed. Oh no. There was no going back now.
He rolled onto his back in one fluid move, then his eyes settled on me. He relaxed but quickly tensed again. “Liliana?”
I didn’t reply. My tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of my mouth. What had I been thinking?
Romero swung his legs out of the bed and sat on the edge for a moment, silently watching me. Could he see my face? I probably looked like a mouse trapped by a cat, but I wasn’t afraid. Not one bit. If anything, I was embarrassed, and strangely excited. I was a twisted and sick mouse, that much was sure. He stood, and of course my eyes did a quick scan of his body. He was only wearing boxer shorts. He looked too good to be true. Like he’d stepped right out of my dreams. It was embarrassing to think how often I’d dreamed of Romero and all the things I wanted to do with him.
“Lily, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?” There was worry in his voice, but there was also something else. Something I’d heard when he’d caught me spying on him in the shower. It was something darker and almost eager.
My stomach fluttered with butterflies and I took a step in his direction. I wanted to fly into his arms, wanted to kiss him, and so much more.