Cherie doesn’t care, and Mia’s never been here before, so she just shrugs and goes back to salad prep. Meanwhile I pop into the pantry, closing the door behind me, and fish my cell phone out of the pocket I asked Maria to sew into a few of my dresses. I can’t manage it with all of them, since I wear a lot of sheaths and Mateo would notice the outline. I could just have my phone, of course, but if he ever saw this one—a different color—he would immediately know something is wrong.
Usually I avoid taking risks like this, especially for no real reason, but I just want to reach out to Sal. Sometimes it still doesn’t feel like he’s real. Sometimes he feels like the adult version of my childhood fantasies, and I’m terrified he’ll disappear.
No one’s ever made me feel the way he does. Cherished. He makes me feel cherished.
Just seeing our message chain on my phone makes me smile. I pause with my thumb hovering over the screen, unsure what I want to write. He probably won’t respond. I usually don’t text him on Sundays since Mateo is here all day, plus I know Sal does his own family thing most Sundays.
I end up settling on the truth. “I miss you.”
To my surprise, he reads the message and responds immediately. “I miss you too.”
“Family dinner sucks,” I add.
He sends back a little wink, and makes my heart ache with, “That’s because you’re with the wrong family.”
Sighing, I press the phone to my chest, overcome with a stab of longing so intense I actually ache. God, what I would give to be his family. His father is obviously the worst, but I’d rather meet his mom and visit Maddie than have to navigate the waters solo here.
Tucking the phone away, I check the wine while I’m in here and head back to the kitchen.
Cherie is still at the counter, but Mia is no longer in the kitchen. I frown, going over to peer in the dining room, but she’s not there, either.
“Where’d Mia go?”
“Oh, I sent her to do drinks in the study. I figured we pretty much have a system in here on Sundays, so that’ll give her something to do.”
Now I’m in a tricky situation. I don’t want Mia to be around Mateo more than she has to be, but I also don’t want to alarm Cherie. She doesn’t like him anyway, and she’ll run to Vince if I give her even half a reason. Since Vince is just recovering from trying to keep an enormous secret from Mateo, the last thing I want to do is spark more trouble between them.
“That’s fine tonight, but for future reference, could you do drinks and leave her in here with me?”
Cherie frowns slightly. “Sure. Are you sick of me?” she jokes.
“I just think it’s better to keep her with the girls. Plus if she and Vince are going to be together, she should probably learn how to run things in here on Sundays.”
Accepting this easily enough, Cherie nods. “Okay, no problem.”
Chapter Twenty
Over the next few weeks Mia’s effect on my life is incontestably good; Mateo is so far out of my business, I’m able to sneak away a lot more to see Sal. Seeing a lot more of Sal is heaven, but my yearning for more grows every time I see him. Leaving him is the worst, and it’s clear he feels the same way.
I really wasn’t sure good men existed, just bad men who fell at different spots along the spectrum, but Salvatore is a good man. He treats me like treasured gold, he’s been so incredibly patient, and I know he can’t enjoy being stuck at home every time we’re together like we’ve been married for 40 years, but he never complains. From the little he’s told me about his social life prior to me, I don’t think he usually stayed in with his girlfriends.
Especially Vivian. I’ve asked about Vivian on more than one occasion. I know Sal’s only interested in me, but I saw the way she looked at him when I was there. Her lack of hostility toward me didn’t mean anything; she figured I was just like any other girl he got involved with and I’d be through the revolving door before long so she could slip back in.
I’m not proud, but I’ve stalked her on social media. I’ve seen the messages Sal’s mom leaves on her pictures. They make me so sad.
If my brother knew about us, I swear I’d be tempted to send Adrian to have a chat with her.
Though, I suppose if my brother knew about us, Sal’s parents would probably know. Maybe then his mom—Yvonne Castellanos, that’s her name—would be commenting all over my pictures.
Jealousy sucks.
Especially when I’m not even jealous because of my boyfriend, but because some dumb girl he slept with ages ago is allowed to talk to his mom and I can’t.