I sigh. I don't like talking about this. I don't like thinking about that day.
"I grew up in the suburbs outside of Detroit,” I say softly. “It was just my mother and me. She didn't want to be in the mattress business. She was a professional piano player. She was amazing. People would come from all over to hear her play.”
Dante's hands are warm around mine. I concentrate on that.
“She started seeing this guy. He seemed like a good choice. He was campaigning to be senator. I thought he loved my mother, but...” My voice falters a little. In the eyes of an adult, the issues are easy to see, but the eyes of a child are blind. “He wasn't a good person. My mother would come home with bruises. She told me it was always an accident.”
Dante's hands tighten and I can see anger flash in his eyes.
“Anyway, it was a week after my twelfth birthday. He drove me home from school. My mother wasn't home.” My shoulders tighten with the memory. It's taken years to work through this moment. Sometimes, I wake screaming from nightmares where I relive this moment. “He kissed me. He touched my chest and said I was growing up into a such a lovely young woman. I tried to leave the car, but he grabbed me. He left bruises on my arm. He hurt me when I didn't give him what he wanted.”
Dante growls. He's angry for me.
“I told my mother. She was furious. It was her breaking point. She was leaving him. She had me pack a bag while she went to tell him it was the end. She said she'd destroy him for this. She died in a car crash on the way home.”
I leave out the lingering questions I have about her death. I've tried to figure out how it happened, but it never seems to make sense. I've read the repor
ts. I've even been to the site of the accident. It doesn't feel right. The words in the report don't match what I saw. Something about it makes me uncomfortable. I have no actual proof that he killed her, but I can't seem to shake the feeling either. I just know that somehow, John Norwood is responsible for her death.
“I'm so sorry,” he says, his hands still tight on mine.
“Uncle Tony and Aunt Sophia took me in. They made me their own.” I'm more confident with this part. This part doesn't make my chest feel too tight. This part is where I feel safe again. “Family means everything to me now. They saved me from him. He's a powerful man and he wasn't pleased when they took me. They made sure I was safe and well cared for.”
"Oh, Vesper," Dante whispers my name. Concern replaces the anger in his eyes. He touches my face and I realize I'm crying. The pads of his fingers smear the tear across my cheek.
"I don't want to tell you because it isn't who I am anymore. I don't want you to look at me differently." I wish my voice didn't waver so much, but I can't help it. I don't like being this emotionally exposed to anyone. He wants to marry me and the small voice in the back of my mind keeps telling me that if he finds out who I really am, he will leave and never come back. I know that it's not true, but that doesn't stop the insecurities from whispering through my mind. "Can you understand?"
"Yes," he says, pulling me into his chest and wrapping his arms around me. I relax into him, feeling safe for a moment.
“You have any dark past I need to know about?” I ask him.
“I'm in the mob,” he whispers, making me giggle.
I feel a little better now.
"Would you still like to see the stars?" Dante asks after a moment. "I mean, I get it if you don't... the stars being part of your past and all."
I ignore the implication of his words. "No, I'd like to see them. Stars don't have pasts."
"What?" One of Dante's dark brows lifts. We start walking toward the planetarium entrance.
"I guess it doesn't matter with projected stars," I say, motioning to the rounded ceiling as we enter. "But, for real stars, the light we see in the sky is millions of years old. The light left its star around the time of the dinosaurs and has traveled through space for all that time and we're just seeing it now. We're seeing something that doesn't exist anymore. The past and the future doesn't matter to stars because it's all the same. Time is meaningless to them."
Dante nods as if he understands, but I don't think he does. Some days, it barely makes sense to me, but I find comfort in the stars and how they don't experience time. My life doesn't matter to a star and something about that is soothing.
He gently guides me past the rings of chairs angled up to see the domed roof and to the center of the room. We're obviously not supposed to sit here, but he pulls me down to the ground. I reluctantly sit, watching as he lays down on the floor and puts his hands behind his head. The motion makes the muscles of his arms stand out in a way that makes my mouth go dry with want.
"Aren't we supposed to be in the chairs?" I look around, but no one else is coming in the room.
"Nope." He grins, looking charming and boyish. His hair is just about to fall into his eyes, so I gently brush it off his forehead. He closes his eyes at my touch, practically purring like a cat. "This is all ours for the hour. You can sit wherever you want." He opens one eye and glances at the space next to him, indicating where he thinks I should sit.
I nestle in closer to him, drawing his strength into me. The lights dim and the sky suddenly fills with stars. It's so real for a moment I forget where I am. I can feel Dante's heartbeat, strong and steady under me. I close my eyes and let myself relax into him for a moment. I let myself truly fall in love with Dante.
I know I won't stop loving him after this moment. Once you love Dante Russo, you will never stop loving him.
Chapter 14
The heat when I open the door makes me sigh in relief after hurrying through the cold morning fog. Sara is waiting for me in our usual booth at the diner. The whole place smells like pancakes and coffee and it's making my mouth water.