The Sweetest Oblivion (Made 1)

“I’m not hungry, Mamma.”

Both of their gazes widened as though I’d confessed I wanted to join a convent. I suddenly regretted not accepting the salad.

My mother placed a hand on her chest. “I knew that Russo was abusing her.”

I sighed. “He’s not—”

“Please,” Nonna scoffed. “It looks consensual enough from where I’m sitting.” She observed me like someone would a bride in an off-white gown.

“Nadia,” Mamma scolded. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No, it wouldn’t be. You’re the biggest prude on this side of the Mississippi.”

“He’s not abusing me, all right?” I crossed my legs in discomfort. “I’m just not hungry.”

Mamma didn’t look like she believed me, and my grandmother’s expression softened as well.

“You’re always hungry,” Nonna muttered.

“Am not,” I replied like a two-year-old.

Mamma shook her head. “We should’ve never let this happen.” She pushed the plate closer to me. “This is the worst thing your papà has ever done.”

I raised a brow. The worst?

Nonna harrumphed.

“Nobody cared when he handed Adriana over without a second thought.”

“Of course we cared,” Mamma said.

“No, you didn’t. I distinctly remember you telling me to ‘trust my papà.’”

“Adriana would have been fine. You—” she cut herself off.

“Me, what?” I said calmly, though my cheeks heated in frustration. They didn’t worry about Adriana because they thought she could handle herself. They didn’t think the same of me.

She pursed her lips and nudged the plate. “Why don’t you eat the salad?”

“For the third time—I’m not hungry.”

“It’s the depression,” Nonna whispered to my mamma.

I exhaled. “I’m not depressed.”

“Then eat the fruit,” Mamma suggested.

“Yeah, cara mia. You need to eat the fruit. You’re too skinny as it is.”

“She’s not too skinny,” my mamma said. “She’s just right.”

Nonna eyed me with a frown. “She’s all boobs and nothing else.” Then muttered, “No wonder that Russo’s so hell-bent on having her.”

I scoffed. “If I were depressed that wouldn’t be a comment that would help.”

They both watched me like I’d just admitted I was depressed.

Mamma jumped up and shoved the plate closer. Another inch and it would be in my lap. “You’ll feel better after you eat.”