“Worried,” he confesses. “Nelson told them you’re safe and that you didn’t know the guy who blew into the ceremony.”
I run my fingers along the hem of the white T-shirt I’m wearing. Joel packed a few items of clothing in the suitcase he brought me last night. He threw my phone and a charger in there, along with some of my essential makeup items.
“What did they say?”
“Your mom cried.” He exhales sharply. “Your dad was stoic. I think he’s just confused as hell about what went down yesterday.”
Knowing that I let them down again is painful.
“You know how they are.” Joel pats my knee. “Give them a few days to process this.”
I nod.
“It’s safe to come home whenever you’re ready.” He glances down at the plush ivory couch we’re sitting on. “I’m good to foot the bill for a few more nights if you need time here.”
I need to be close to him and Nelson. They’ve always been my anchors.
“I’ll come home with you.”
Moving to stand, he runs his hand over the front of the green polo he’s wearing. “I have to head over to Warren’s lab first.”
“He’s at work?” I’m surprised, and it must show in my expression.
“With Lydia,” Joel adds. “Can I get real honest for a second, Afton?”
I dart to my feet. “Aren’t you always honest?”
“To the point that it’s painful.” He laughs. “If they haven’t already fucked, it’s going to happen soon.”
“Lydia and Warren?”
“That’s who we’re talking about.”
I can’t say I’m surprised that he picked up on that. I’ve seen it firsthand for weeks, but with all the pressure to have the perfect wedding, I pushed my concerns aside. I convinced myself that Warren’s interest in Lydia was strictly about work even though I could tell she feelings for him.
I brush past Joel to walk toward the bedroom of the suite.
“I’m sorry,” he says from behind me. “I thought you were picking up on that energy too.”
I stop as I reach the nightstand next to the bed I spent hours tossing and turning in. “I was. Lydia wants him.”
“What do you want?” he asks.
I turn to face him. “What everyone wants. Happiness, love, and really good sex.”
“So you’re seeing the ceremony crashing stunner again?”
I let out a laugh. “No. I don’t want a guy who is in love with someone else.”
“You looked like you were made for each other when you ran out of the church holding hands.”
Shaking my head, I take a step closer to him. “He was drunk. He saved me from a marriage I would have regretted. I got him home safe and sound. That’s the end of our story.”
“You don’t know what the future holds, Afton.”
I motion for Joel to hold out his palm. “When you return the ring to Warren, can you give him this too?”
He gazes down at the sapphire and diamond necklace that I finally took off late last night. “Will do.”
“If he asks, tell him I’m ready to talk if he wants to. He deserves an explanation. I owe him that much.”
Joel reaches forward to brush my hair back from my forehead. “I’m proud of you. You’re going to get through this just fine.”
I will. I need to.
I took a leap of faith leaving that church and the future I thought I wanted. Now, it’s time to build the life I’m destined to have.
Chapter 7
Luke
“You’re alive.”
I pop a fist into my cousin’s bicep. “You’ve been working out.”
Dante Calvetti huffs out a laugh. “When you sit on your ass behind a computer all day, you need to hit the gym. You wouldn’t know a thing about that.”
I chuckle. “So you’re finally admitting that you should have followed in my footsteps?”
He slides his phone into the pocket of his gray pants. “Fire fighting isn’t my calling.”
I take a glance behind him. “Are we going into the restaurant or not?”
Dante looks over his shoulder toward the entrance to our grandmother’s restaurant. Calvetti’s has been a staple in Manhattan for decades. It’s been the center of my family for as long as I can remember.
My mom, Gaia, was Martina Calvetti’s oldest daughter. She died shortly after I was born thirty years ago.
Robbie, Dante’s dad, still mourns the loss of his sister. He tells me stories about my mom whenever I see him.
I’ve got a hell of a lot of cousins roaming around New York City, but the bond between Dante and me is unbreakable. We’re almost the same age. We had our first beer together, graduated high school at the same time, and although we followed different career paths, our friendship has never suffered.
“You look like hell,” Dante points out. “When is the last time you shaved?”
I run a hand over the stubble on my jaw. “Two days ago. It might be three.”
“You haven’t been at work in three days?”
Dante knows the rules. The day I became a firefighter, I had to invest in a good razor. The no facial hair policy has been easy to follow.