Family Ties (Morelli Family 4)

Her words have the intended impact of piling guilt onto my shoulders, but not because I proposed to Francesca. If Ma knew how involved I really was in Dad’s death, she’d never forgive me.

It’s purely selfish defense, but I’m exhausted and emotionally beaten down, so I can’t stop the words that shoot out of my mouth. “If God can forgive Dad for all the horrible shit he did, I think He’ll find a way to forgive me.”

She looks at me like I just slaughtered an entire family in front of her. “Don’t you dare speak ill of your father, Antonio Salvatore Castellanos. Don’t you dare.”

I feel insensitive, but I’m fed up with the unquestioning loyalty various women have to such awful fucking men. Francesca doesn’t see it because she hasn’t lived it like I have, but this would be Mia at Mateo’s funeral. Who cares if he spent years tormenting her and putting her and everyone else through immeasurable pain? He’s the boss. He’s her husband. He’s my father. His position warrants unwavering respect whether he does anything to deserve it or not.

It’s not what he deserves, and it’s fucking bullshit.

I know it’s the way things are in our families, I know the women are only doing what they’re supposed to do, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. It doesn’t mean I have to be like that, now that it’s my turn to create my own legacy. I want to deserve it.

I make the decision here and now never to tell Francesca the truth. She’s better off not knowing, and I’m better off not doing things I can’t tell her about. I just have to bear down and push through it this time, then all this will be in the past and we’ll never have to think about it again. I don’t care what Francesca says; I made the right call. I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone who loves me regardless of what an awful shit I am; I want to be in a relationship with someone who motivates me want to be good enough for her.

I want exactly as much respect as I earn, and that’s it.

Chapter Forty Two

Francesca

I’m just about to close up when Mia comes through the front door of the bakery.

It’s been two weeks since Sal and I got engaged, and Mia is taking her MOH duties very seriously. She has an entire binder dedicated to my wedding, complete with color dividers to separate my bridal shower, bachelorette party, and the wedding itself. I assured her she really didn’t have to help with the wedding itself, but then I realized how overwhelming it was going to be to plan a wedding in three months, so I handed off a few duties to her.

I didn’t even think Mia was into weddings when I first met her, so I’m pleasantly surprised.

“I’m almost done,” I assure her, grabbing some paper towels and glass cleaner. “We’ve been totally dead for the last half hour, so I did all the paperwork early.”

“Here, I’ll do that,” she says, taking the cleaner and spraying the front of the display herself.

“You really didn’t have to meet me here,” I tell her, grabbing tomorrow’s orders and going through them.

“I thought it would be more subtle. If I got to the house before you and then waited for you to get there, it would be kind of obvious. If I’m helping you close up at the bakery and we get there at the same time, it makes perfect sense that you’d accompany me to the study.”

Mateo apparently summoned Mia today since she’s handling the planning, but he’s footing the bill for my bridal shower. He asked her to pop over to settle the financials, but Mia asked me to come with her.

“Not that I mind, because I obviously don’t, but I can’t help thinking you probably could’ve settled this without me more efficiently. You would’ve been done and on your way home before I even got there,” I point out.

She wipes down the display, not answering me.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I ask, frowning at her avoidant behavior.

Her eyes widen in mild alarm. She pauses in wiping down the counter, glancing up at me, then shakes her head. “Nothing. I just thought this would be better so I don’t have to be alone with him.”

My stomach twists a bit and I drop the orders on the counter. “Why don’t you want to be alone with him?”

Since she’s not very slick, she just goes silent again. Mia is the worst liar.

“Mia?” The thought absolutely turns my stomach, but my mind goes to the worst places. “He didn’t… do anything…?”

“No,” she says quickly, shaking her head vehemently. “No, not at all. It’s nothing. Truly. I just don’t want to invite trouble, that’s all. Preemptive measure. No big deal.”