Birthright

“What the fuck, Nate?” She reaches over and shoves me in the chest—hard. The bourbon I was going to throw at her spills all over my pants.

“Dammit, Nora!” I stand up, hold my arms out wide, and just let the liquid drip onto the floor.

“You’re going to use her and exploit the fact that she’s kind? Do you even hear yourself?”

“Why do you even care?” I plant the glass down on my desk and try to wipe the liquid off my thighs with one hand. It doesn’t work.

“Because…” Nora pauses for a long moment, then stands up and heads over to the bottle. I watch her pour herself another bourbon, refill my glass on the desk, and then flop back down on the couch with her legs stretched out, making it impossible for me to sit back down.

“Passive-aggressive much?” I mutter, but she ignores me.

“I like her, Nate. She seems really sweet.”

“She is sweet.”

“And you’re using her.”

“She doesn’t seem to mind.” I shrug, trying to ignore the knot forming in my stomach.

“How can she mind if she doesn’t know you’re doing it! Ugh, Nate!” Nora swivels on the couch and stamps her feet on the floor. “Have you really gone completely brain dead?”

“You know, I think I’m about done with this.” I down the bourbon, slam the glass back on the desk, and attempt to march out of the office and maybe slam a few doors along the way to my room, but Nora grabs my arm.

“Think, Nate.”

“About what?”

“The future of this ridiculous little fantasy world you’re creating, maybe?”

I glare at her.

“Let’s just picture this a few years down the line, shall we? She gets it all figured out, resents you for putting her in such a position, and then you’re stuck with a wife who wants nothing to do with you.”

“It will be a bit late then, won’t it?”

“Nataniele!” Nora groans, releases my arm, and holds her hands over her face.

If I were to be honest with myself, I hadn’t thought much past the actual wedding. The wedding is what’s important right now. It’s the only way I can stop this curse from happening again—the only way I can keep another member of my family from dying. I need a wife. I need to produce some little Orsos to keep the family line going.

“Nate, this isn’t you. You can’t do this, and somewhere inside that thick skull of yours, you know it.”

The lump that has been forming in my stomach moves up and lodges in my throat. I want to open my mouth to defend myself, but I can’t seem to do it.

“I know how much of a Catholic you are, even when you don’t admit it to anyone,” Nora says simply. “When you marry, you’ll stand before Father Brian, say your vows in front of God, Mary, and all the saints, and it will be for life. I know you’re under a lot of pressure, but are you sure this is the answer?”

“What choice do I have?” I have to swallow hard before I manage to croak out the words.

“You can tell her now,” Nora says. “Tell her everything, and let her make her own decisions. Stop the deception.”

“Oh yeah, that’s a great plan!” I shake my head, and I roll my eyes. I move away from her and stand near the window, staring at my half-empty bourbon glass.

“Why not?”

“Because she has no loyalty, Nora. I can’t tell her all this shit. She might very well head straight to the feds.”

“And what makes you think she won’t do that later?”

“By then, she’ll be in love with me. She’ll be loyal.”