The Secret One

by Cardello, Ruth

  We did have a lot in common.

  Nona had envelopes overflowing with photos of Christof and his siblings. I became lost in them as well. When I came across a photo of Christof around the same age as when we’d first met, I put it aside. I didn’t have my phone with me, but I wanted to snap a photo of it before we left. No matter what happened between Christof and me, he was part of my story and belonged in my own, if solely digital, albums.

  I put the albums back in a nice pile, with the ordered loose photos off to one side. When Christof woke up, I’d tell him I’d looked through them and what I’d seen in them. I’d kept that one photo out and was preparing to pocket it when I noticed light from behind me illuminating an envelope tucked up against the back wall of the closet.

  I went back onto my knees, leaned deep into the closet, and picked up the stiff yellowed piece of mail. It was unopened. Addressed to Christof’s mother. Absolutely none of my business. I was about to put it back.

  “Hey, you.”

  I startled at the sound of Christof’s voice behind me and sat back onto my heels. The closet door was still open, and I was sure there was enough guilt in my expression that he guessed what I’d been up to before I said, “I hope you don’t mind that I wanted to see the photos Nona mentioned last night.”

  He slid down the wall and sat beside me. “Not at all. It was on my list to do this morning. I want Gian to have photos of Rosella, but I wanted to make sure there was nothing in there he’d be hurt about if he saw.”

  “I don’t think there is.” Christof had easily accepted what I probably would have chewed his head off for. “You’re not upset?”

  “That I dragged you into so much of my family’s drama that you wanted to see photos of everyone we’ve been talking about? Why would I be?”

  I kissed him then.

  Being with someone should be as easy as he made it.

  “Look what I found.” I held up the photo of him in college. “I remember this man.”

  Christof took the photo from my hand and groaned. “I forgot I used to make my hair stick up in the front like that. You kissed this douche? Where were your standards?”

  I took the photo back. “I thought he was adorable.” I shot a side glance at Christof. “I still think he’s kind of hot.”

  “Kind of?” He laughed. “I’m spending more time in the gym and less in my garage when I get home.”

  “Stop,” I said with a laugh.

  “What else did you find?” He nodded toward the envelope I’d forgotten in my other hand.

  “This. I don’t know. It just kind of jumped out at me. The light was hitting it just right.” I looked into the fully dark closet over my shoulder for what might have been the source of its illumination, then shrugged. Weird. “Anyway, it’s a letter to your mother. Doesn’t look as if it’s ever been opened.” I handed it to Christof.

  He frowned as he turned it over. “Not my father’s handwriting.”

  “I don’t think it’s Nona’s either. She labeled a lot of the photos in the album.”

  He waved it between us. “I should take it back with me and give it to her. Unless it’s from an old boyfriend.” He wrinkled his nose. “My parents are happily married. No need to rock that boat.”

  “You think a letter could do that?”

  He shrugged. “Depends what’s in it, I guess. I’ve had about all the surprises I can handle for one week.”

  I nodded. “I don’t blame you. So maybe we should stash it back where I found it.”

  He turned the envelope in his hand again. “For Gian to find? He doesn’t need another surprise either.”

  “So what will you do with it?”

  “What could be in here that my mother would want to read?”

  “It could be a note from her childhood best friend telling her where she hid a treasure.”

  The look he gave me said, Please take this seriously.

  I put a hand on his knee and ignored how that small act sent my heart racing and my body revving. “There’s only one way to know.”

  “It’s probably nothing.”

  “Most likely.”

  “It might be a family recipe one of our aunts didn’t want her to forget,” he said in a more upbeat tone.

  “See, then she’d be grateful you found it.”

  “I’m just going to open it.” He did. “It’s in Italian.” He translated as he read:

  Camilla, I know you don’t understand why I did what I did. I’m okay if you never forgive me for it, because if I had the chance to do it all over again, I would do the same.

  Our eyes met before he flipped the letter over to check the end for a signature. “It’s from Aunt Rosella.”

  I scooted closer to look at it with him, even though I wasn’t able to translate what it said. “So far it doesn’t sound like much of an apology.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” He pressed his lips together, then turned the letter back over. “I wonder if this is about Antonio. My mother said she had a crush on him before Rosella married him.”

  I gripped Christof’s thigh. “What does Rosella say? Keep reading.”

  He gave me an odd look, then shook his head and read the beginning part again.

  If I had the chance to do it all over again, I would do the same. You think Antonio is a nice man, but he isn’t. It’s all lies. I’ve talked to people from his town. People fear him. He’s a violent man who made his money by selling his soul to the devil. That’s what anyone who knows him well calls him—the devil. When you told me you were pregnant, I knew it was his.

  Christof stopped. “What the fuck?”

  “Camilla was pregnant from Antonio? Do you think your oldest brother . . .”

  Christof started reading again.

  I couldn’t let you marry him. I couldn’t let you tell him about the baby. You would never have been able to escape him. I did have sex with him. Hate me if you must, but it was the only way to save you. I thought he would leave when I told everyone. I didn’t think he and Papa would fight. I didn’t know Papa would threaten him if he didn’t marry me. He’s so angry. He says he’ll kill Papa. I have to get him away from Montalcino. You belong with Basil. He loves you.

  Christof stopped. “Sebastian is Antonio’s son. Oh my God, it all makes sense now. How did I not see how much they look alike? Of course my mother didn’t want Sebastian here. She wasn’t afraid he’d explode; she was afraid Dominic would discover he had two brothers no one had told him about. One from Aunt Rosella. One from my mother.” He stuffed the letter back into its envelope, folded it, jammed it into his pajama pocket, then kicked the door closed with the side of his foot. My heart ached for him when he rubbed his hands over his eyes and said, “The last thing I need is another family secret.”

  When he lowered his hands, I took one between mine. “I overstepped. I was curious. I shouldn’t have—”

  He growled, “It’s not your fault my aunt and mother fucked the same man.”

  My eyes rounded, and I took a deep breath. He wasn’t angry with me, but he was angry. I couldn’t blame him. Each time he sewed the fabric of his family back together, it seemed to unravel in another corner. I said the only thing I could think of. “I’m so sorry.” Then I wrapped my arms around him and simply hugged him.

  He let out a long breath. With me still tucked beneath his chin, he asked, “Do I pretend I didn’t find the letter? Do I tell Sebastian?”

  “I don’t know,” I mumbled into his chest. I wished I did.

  “God, I hate secrets.”

  Me too. I wasn’t very happy with myself, either, for laying another one on him. “It’s okay if you’re upset with me. I’m upset with me.”

  His arms wrapped around me tighter. His heart was beating loudly beneath my ear, but not nearly as wildly as before. “How is it that you’re not racing for the nearest airport?”

  “Leaving hasn’t crossed my mind once.” As I uttered the words, I realized how true they were. I tipped my head back, and his kiss
was everything I needed in that moment.

  Everything else slid away as soon as his lips touched mine. His hands went to my hair. I shifted my position to straddle him. Beneath me, his cock sprang to life. I ground my still-clothed sex against it.

  For a moment, in my mind at least, we were back in the guesthouse as if no time had passed. His kiss was as hungry and impatient as mine.

  The sound of Nona’s bedroom door opening and closing brought the kiss to a hasty end. I slid off his lap, nodded toward the impressive tenting of his bottoms, and did my best not to smile. “You can’t greet her like that.”

  “You think she’d notice?” he joked as he stood before helping me to my feet.

  “Do you think she saw us?” I asked. I felt naughty and so much younger than I was.

  Nona’s bedroom door opened and shut again. Then again. Each time a little louder. Christof laughed. “I’d say yes.”

  “Hey, at least we’re not in my room this time. That has to count for something.”

  “Sure. Try to tell her that, but be quick on your feet if you do.” With one last kiss, he said, “I’m going to hit a cold shower.”

  I grasped one of his hands as he was about to turn away. “Christof?”

  “Yes?” The heated look he gave me was so intense I nearly forgot what I wanted to ask him.

  But it came back to me. “What will you do about the letter?”

  His expression tightened. “I don’t know. I guess first we should see how Dominic does at meeting one brother before telling him he has another.”

  “Your mother thinks her sister stole Antonio from her because she wanted him for herself. Maybe reading that letter would help her forgive her sister.”

  “Or tear my family apart. My mother is a proud woman. This would be taking everything she’s likely been too ashamed to tell anyone and forcing her to face it.”

  “Do you think your father knows about Sebastian?”

  Christof winced. “God, I hope so. I really fucking hope so.”

  “Want some good news?”

  His eyes were riveted to mine. “Would love some.”

  “Your boner is gone. You’re free to walk about the house.”

  He looked down, then met my gaze again and started to laugh. “Is that good news?”

  “It is when Nona is heading down the hall toward us like she is.” I waved to his grandmother. “Morning, Nona.”

  Christof greeted her as well.

  She didn’t stop, just nodded at us, then walked right past in a long cotton housedress, mumbling in Italian.

  Christof and I shared a guilty look. We knew we shouldn’t, but we couldn’t hold it back; we laughed like little kids caught breaking the rules.

  “What did she say?” I asked.

  “She said we should ask Salvatore about borrowing his guesthouse.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHRISTOF

  About fifteen minutes before the expected arrival of Dominic Corisi, Mauricio, Wren, Gian, McKenna, and I were seated in the living room waiting. Each of us appeared to be shooting for the same not-worried-about-this expression. I didn’t know how they were faring, but I was silently freaking the fuck out.

  Nona had thrown us out of her kitchen—said all our hovering was driving her crazy. It probably was. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something was up with us. Nona’s house was normally overrun with family dropping in, but that morning Luigi must have done as I’d asked, because it was just us.

  The letter from my aunt to my mother was stuffed into the back pocket of my jeans. I wanted to share it with my brothers. I debated whether or not I should call Sebastian and tell him to come on over so we could get this family reunion done in one wild day.

  In the end I decided the secret wasn’t mine to reveal. The letter wasn’t addressed to me. It needed to be delivered to who it was meant for. Perhaps if my mother had been a horrible person, I would have felt justified in outing her secret. Or if my father hadn’t been such a good role model of how humble and steady love should be. I’d had a wonderful childhood. All four of us—me, Sebastian, Mauricio, and Gian—credited the quality of our childhood as well as the fraternal bond we shared to our parents.

  When we’d fought, and we had, our punishments had been a list of team chores. We’d been forced to work together when we were unhappy with each other, and it had taught us how to keep moving in the same direction even through bumpy times. My mother deserved a chance to tell her truth—or maybe keep her secret.

  I didn’t know.

  Gian had spent so much of his life wondering, worrying that we would leave him, too, because something inside him whispered it was his fault his mother had left him. As if somehow he hadn’t been good enough. Meeting Dominic, building a connection with another person who had been left behind by the same mother—Gian could benefit from that.

  Dominic could as well.

  What good was there in telling Sebastian his biological father wasn’t the good man who’d raised him but an evil bastard our mother had slept with and then lost to her sister? Would Dominic find any comfort in another half sibling?

  Did my father know about Sebastian, or had my mother lied to him too?

  As someone who had a foot in two cultures, someone who had heard stories of what life had been like in Italy when my mother was young . . . I couldn’t blame her if she had lied. An unwed mother in this small town? All those years ago? The family, wonderful as they were, would not have handled that well.

  McKenna squeezed my hand. “Just a few more minutes. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine,” I said automatically.

  “You don’t have to be.” She lowered her voice. “Everything you’ve done, you’ve done out of love. This will work out.”

  I leaned over and kissed her temple. “Is this how you imagined your first trip to Italy?”

  “No. It’s better.”

  I was about to call bullshit, but then she gave me this look . . . one so full of . . . love? I found it difficult to breathe.

  “He said he’d be here at nine o’clock, right?” Gian asked.

  “Five more minutes,” I said.

  Mauricio tapped his fingers on his knees. “I wonder if he is as nervous as we are.”

  “I’m sure he is,” his wife said.

  Jumping into the conversation, McKenna added, “Don’t expect him to look it, even if he is. People who are always in the public eye learn quickly how to hide how they feel. Some of the best drivers I’ve ever met sound like assholes right before a race. It’s all nerves. If you talk to them later, you realize that’s just how they deal.”

  “This can’t be easy for him,” I said. “None of the memories he has of coming here are good. Let’s do our best to change that today.”

  Nona stepped into the living room and announced that breakfast was ready. None of us moved. She took a moment to study each of our faces and then asked, “Did someone die and you think I can’t handle the news? At my age, death is no longer a stranger. He is someone who comes whether or not you invite him. You can either live your life fearing him or embrace your relationship with him and change how you live because of him. So spit it out. Has death come to my door one more time?”

  A loud knock on the outside door of Nona’s house made all of us jump. “No one died, Nona,” I said. Death isn’t here. Just the devil.

  I cursed my inner voice for making a joke I would have skewered my brothers for making, but I gave myself credit for not saying it aloud. I stood and made my way to open the door.

  Although dressed in a casual pair of dark slacks and a light button-down shirt, Dominic didn’t look a bit more relaxed than he had in his office.

  “Dominic.” I held out a hand in greeting. “Welcome.” He didn’t shake my hand, and I was pretty sure I heard a sound akin to a growl, but I lowered my hand and forced a smile and reminded myself what McKenna had said about drivers before a race. This couldn’t have been easy for him. He was likely mentall
y prepared for an ambush. “Quick tip? Everyone here is on your side. We all want you and Nona to have a good visit. Gian is excited but nervous to meet you. They’ll all like you a lot more if you attempt a smile.” He flashed his teeth at me. Not a smile, but in my mind, almost a joke . . . which I saw as progress.

  Nona came to the door. “Sebastian! Where is Heather? Don’t step foot in my house without my sweet Heather.”

  To give Nona credit, Dominic and Sebastian did look a lot alike. Here we go. I put a hand on Dominic’s shoulder and ignored the way he tried to shrug my touch off. “Nona, this is Dominic.” I left off his last name. It was a trigger the situation didn’t require. “Rosella’s oldest boy.”

  Nona froze.

  Mauricio and Wren moved to flank her. I nodded in approval. Mauricio said, “Dominic, it is always a pleasure to meet more family.”

  Wren said something similar.

  My attention went to Gian, who stepped out from behind them. He looked from Nona’s angry expression to Dominic’s unsmiling one. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

  I closed the door behind Dominic. “It’ll be fine,” I said, even though my own gut was undecided on the direction this was about to go. “Nona, we’d like to have breakfast with Dominic, but it’s your house. Will you invite him in?”

  Head held high, Nona walked until she was right in front of Dominic. Nothing about her stance was welcoming.

  She’s going to throw him out.

  This is her house. That’s her right. Please don’t, Nona.

  Papa, if you’re here, we have never needed you more.

  Nona looked Dominic over slowly. “Your mother is dead to me. She is no welcome in my house.”

  Dominic dipped his head. “I’m here alone.”

  “Your father hurt this family. Hurt us many times.” She went from English into Italian as she described Antonio as the devil.

  In crisp Italian, Dominic said, “He was the devil. He hurt his wife and children as well. Thankfully he’s dead.”

  Nona raised a hand near his face. “Is there any of him in you?”