“Is there any reason things wouldn’t stay friendly?”
I don’t like the way he looks at me, a mix of regret and reticence painted across his handsome face. “Remember when we agreed not to discuss this stuff? You know I can’t.”
Now he has me frowning again. I know I’m technically the one who first said we should avoid talking about that kind of thing when we first started spending time together, but that he’s the one insisting now makes me a little uncomfortable. I may talk a lot of shit about my family, I may want to break away from them and have my own life, but they’re still my family. I would be devastated if anything actually happened to them—especially if Sal was the one leading the crusade.
God, just thinking about war between our families makes me sick. I stand to lose either way. Mateo doesn’t even hold back within our household, so it’s hard to imagine he would hold any punches in a brutal fight like this would be. That could mean he’d end up hurting Sal. Maybe killing Sal. I think I might actually die if that happened. Every trace of light in my life would be erased. I don’t know how I could recover from that.
My stomach knots up and I bring my gaze back to his. “We don’t have to talk about anything you’d be afraid I would take back to him, but you have to promise me if it ever comes to an actual war, you’ll warn me. Give us a chance to figure something out.”
He hesitates. “That’s a hard promise to make, Francesca.”
“You said you’d do anything for me,” I remind him, immovably. “Now I’m asking for something. So was it bullshit, or did you mean it?”
He’s clearly not pleased that I pulled that card, but this is too important. “You know I meant it.”
“Then promise.”
“You’re asking me to betray my own family to help yours.”
“Not to help them beat you. I don’t want anything to happen to you, either. But if you hear something coming down the pipes and you tell me, maybe we can avert disaster. I can’t handle if anything happens to you, and I don’t want anything to happen to Mateo either. I don’t want to be blindsided if something crops up.”
“And if you have to choose?” he asks evenly. “If it comes down to me or him, what do you do?”
I hate everything about that question. I hate that he’s asking it, I hate the dread that sinks down into my gut, the guilt that burns through me. There’s no winning in that scenario. I adore Sal and I can’t even imagine my world without him anymore. Or, I can imagine it, but I don’t want to. How do you go back to nothingness after knowing love? How could I play my role in my own family, knowing they were directly responsible for taking him away from me?
It’s not unfair of him to ask that, especially considering what I just asked, but it feels unfair. He probably feels the same way about what I asked. We love each other, but we’re loyal to our own families. I hate the sinking realization that our families do matter, that they could come between us. We are at peace now, so this isn’t as treasonous as it could be, but if that changed?
It would tear us apart.
Chapter Twenty One
Tonight was as close to a fight as Sal and I have ever had, and I didn’t like it.
I never did answer his question.
Eventually he let it go, pulling me close and kissing me, not wanting to waste what little time we have together fighting over things neither of us ever wants to happen. Things were a little more normal by the time he walked me out to my car, but I could still feel the underlying tension when he kissed me goodbye.
Hopelessness threatens to settle in on me.
I go straight to my bedroom when I get home, but the first thing I see is the issue of Bridal Guide I bought like a moron at the grocery store last night. I really do live in a fucking fantasy world, don’t I?
Rolling my eyes in self-disgust, I drop my purse on the bed and look around. I feel restless. I don’t want to be caged up in this bedroom.
Since my stupid brother is the root of my stress tonight, I decide to remind myself why he’s worth it and head downstairs.
Logically I know Sal is the right choice. I know I should’ve told Sal that I’d choose him if it came down to it. But 28 years of conditioning to absolute loyalty to my family combined with the hold Mateo still has on me, evoking my protectiveness at the thought of him being in actual danger…