“Don’t treat me like an idiot, Celia. You know who.”
She eyed Carmine warily. “What makes you think he’s with her?”
“I don’t think. I know.”
“I’m not sure,” she replied. “I know as much as you do, kiddo. He left, and I don’t know why or where or when he’ll be back. I do know, though, if he shows up and sees you drinking, he’s not going to be very happy.”
Vincent yelled from the front door of the hall, saying the ceremony was about to start, and Carmine pushed away from the building. They headed inside quietly, going straight through to the courtyard in the back. A long aisle was set up, surrounded by dozens of white chairs in rows. Celia dragged Carmine to the front, forcing him into the seat beside her.
The ceremony went by quickly. Carmine barely heard any of it as he fidgeted and tugged at his tie, looking around for any sign of his uncle. The moment it was over, they went inside for the reception, and Carmine headed straight for the open bar. He took a seat, barking for the bartender to get him some vodka, and he downed two shots back-to-back as soon as they were set in front of him.
The bartender poured him another, shot after shot flowing until Carmine’s vision was a bit hazy. The celebration went on behind him, music playing as people danced and cheered, celebrating Tess and Dominic’s union, while all Carmine enjoyed was the familiar numbness creeping through his limbs.
Another shot was poured—number five, maybe six—when the stool beside Carmine shifted. Tensing, he glanced over as Dominic sat down, loosening his bowtie. He didn’t look at Carmine or even acknowledge him as he told the bartender to pour him a shot, too.
Dominic downed it in one swallow and grimaced, motioning for his shot glass to be filled again. “I don’t know how the hell you drink this straight from the bottle, Carm.”
Carmine threw his back when the bartender approached. The man filled them both up, giving a small nod as he set the bottle between them on the bar.
About fucking time he gets the hint.
“Your body gets used to it after a while,” Carmine said. “I barely feel the burn anymore. It goes down like water.”
“Huh,” Dominic said, throwing his vodka back. He grimaced once more, a rumble escaping his chest as he slammed the shot glass down on the bar. Carmine chuckled and filled them both back up, but Dominic just stared at his glass. He picked it up after a moment, swirling the liquid around as if deep in thought.
“Go ahead and say it,” Carmine muttered.
“There’s no point,” Dominic said. “Your misery takes the fun out of it.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted, grabbing the liquor. He went to pour himself a shot but stopped, instead just tipping the bottle back. There was no point in pretending—they both knew he would drink the entire thing, anyway.
“You know, none of us hear from Haven anymore,” Dominic said, picking up a coaster from the bar and putting it on its corner, attempting to spin it.
“Did something happen?” Carmine asked. “She’s okay, isn’t she?”
“I’m sure if something was wrong, we’d know. Corrado keeps up with her.”
“What about Dia?” he asked. “Doesn’t she see her, too?”
He laughed humorlessly. “No. She went home for spring break and when she got back, Haven was gone. You’d know that if you still talked to her, by the way.”
Carmine was stunned. “Dia doesn’t call me, either.”
“That’s because she’s afraid you’ll flip out. She thinks she failed because Haven left, but I told her what happened was supposed to happen. You pushed the little birdie from the nest, and she did exactly what she was always meant to do.”
“What’s that?” Carmine asked.
“She flew.”
A smile tugged Carmine’s lips at those words. She flew. “I’ll drink to that.”
“You’ll drink to anything.”
He raised the bottle. “I’ll drink to that, too.”
Dominic stood up and walked away, rejoining his table at the front of the room with Tess and Dia. Carmine stared at the bottle of liquor in his hand, realizing his brother had just done the one thing he had been too stubborn to do—concede.
Carmine hesitated before getting up and strolling over to their table. He paused beside it, his eyes silently scanning them, before slipping into an empty seat.