Ugh.
Just as I’m closing up at the bakery, I check my phone one more time and smile when I see Sal’s name. “Don’t be mad. I impulse ordered a dozen doughnuts to go with the Chinese food.”
Grinning, I type out, “Why would I be mad? I love doughnuts.”
“Because I only ordered a dozen, so obviously you can’t have any. Bring your own dessert.”
I’m feeling a little feisty, so I shoot back, “You can be my dessert.”
“You are killing me,” he sends back immediately.
I stuff my phone back in my bag and flip off the lights, closing up the bakery so I can meet Sal at home for dinner.
Rather, his home.
I’ve caught myself thinking of it simply as home a few times. The first time it was jarring, but since then I’ve accepted it. Of course I feel more at home with Sal than the house I grew up in; there’s only ever been love in one of those places.
We finally finished Entourage. We had a series finale party with Maddie and Mark when we went through the last couple of episodes. We were all drunk by the time the show ended and I don’t remember what happened, but I don’t think I could tell you three things about the show anyway. Maddie determined I needed to pay Sal back, but I didn’t know what to make him watch. She told me she would send over the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice. We’re watching it now, and Sal is not thrilled.
He’d do anything for me though, and it makes me feel like a billion dollars.
After Chinese food, doughnuts, and tonight’s episode of Pride and Prejudice, we move to the bedroom. Since I can’t sleep over often, we have to do our nights a little differently to get the same experience. I get up super early to open the bakery anyway, so I’m always tired in the evening. After sex, I fall asleep about half the time. I always feel bad after, when he regretfully wakes me up to tell me we have to get up so I can go home. It’s the last thing in the world I ever want to do—I just want to stay with him. Going back to that empty mansion now, after a night filled with cozy closeness and love, is so much worse than it ever was when I didn’t have anything else. In that way, having Sal is hard. Every hour of most days, there’s somewhere else I want to be, another life I want to be living, and I can’t.
Sal doesn’t seem to think Dante and Delmonico are in league to betray Mateo, either. I should be relieved, but I’m disappointed instead. Wiping out Dante and Delmonico and doing something Mateo would see as loyal? There would have been no downside. Mateo rewards unexpected loyalty, and he certainly wouldn’t expect it from a Castellanos.
Sal’s arm is wrapped protectively around me in bed as I lie across his chest, sated and half-asleep.
“You’re gonna fall asleep on me again, aren’t you?”
I smile sleepily, tilting my head so I can look up at him. “Probably. I like sleeping with you.”
“I like sleeping with you, too. Except the waking you up part. I hate that.”
“Me too. Always means it’s time to leave.”
“Would your brother ever let you move out?” he asks. “I mean, I know he wouldn’t let you move in with me, but what about your own place? I’m not at all opposed to spending my nights somewhere else if it means spending them with you.”
“I wish. And he might, if I asked, but my assumption is he would put me at one of his properties.”
“So what?”
“So, if I ask to leave all of a sudden, he’ll probably wonder why. And if he puts me at one of his properties, he can set up surveillance on the place before I move in. He has hidden cameras—like, those nanny cam things that you build into clocks and stuff. The sneaky ones. So I could never trust my surroundings, because even if he didn’t do that, I would feel like he did. I could definitely never have you over.”
“Goddamn it, Mateo.”
I nod my agreement. “He’s a tricky one.”
“Why can’t he let people have a little privacy? That’s fucked up.”
I sigh, wishing I could adequately explain Mateo, but I can’t. I understand why he is the way he is, but that’s because I grew up with him. It’s nothing I could possibly explain to Sal in the space of a few minutes, and even if I explained, he couldn’t understand because he has never experienced anything like our childhood. Sal also probably doesn’t want to spend all our time together talking about my brother. “He just has a hard time trusting people,” I explain.
“That’s no excuse.”
“I didn’t say it was. He doesn’t need an excuse. Who does he answer to? No one. He does what he wants. I’m only saying he has his reasons—not even just logical ones, but he has those, too. He’s seen the people closest to him betray him, and that’s after having a hellish, lonely childhood… You just, you don’t know him the way I do. I know he grew up to be a monster, but I would be more surprised if it turned out any other way, honestly.”