“He didn’t ask me if he could push the wedding up,” Papà grunted.
“You didn’t ask me before selling me to Oscar Perez.” My heart raced once the heated words passed my lips. I didn’t believe I’d ever have the courage to talk back to my father, no matter what he said or did.
His jaw ticked, but he only shuffled through some papers. “I didn’t sell you. You know how this life works, Elena. If you lived on the Outside and got to make all your own decisions, you’d never last. They’d chew a girl like you up and spit you out. I was trying to protect you.”
My father’s vision for my happiness and well-being were so skewed I knew we’d never agree on a thing, so as asinine as I believed his beliefs were, I dropped it.
“I don’t want there to be issues between you and my husband.”
He scoffed.
“Why do you dislike him?” I sighed.
“He’s a hothead and a cheat.”
I opened my mouth to disagree but then closed it. It was a little hard to dispute.
“He sees something he wants, and he takes it—just like his papà. I fucking knew I shouldn’t have let him see you until he married your sister.”
“Why did you tell him I was unfit for marriage?”
“Because he doesn’t deserve you!” Papà slammed a hand on his desk. “Oscar understood how you are. He would’ve made you a good husband.”
I laughed with bitterness. “How I am? Do you think I’m made of glass, Papà? You don’t even know who I am because you haven’t spent one day getting to know
me since I turned ten.”
He gave his head a shake.
My throat felt tight. “Firstly, you’ve been misinformed about the kind of person Oscar was. Look into him a little deeper and think for a moment that you almost sold me to him. And secondly, regardless of your reservations about Nico—I’ve known him for a short amount of time and yet he knows me better than anyone else. He’s my husband, Papà . . . and he’s come to mean something to me, whether you like it or not.” I swallowed. “If you care about me at all, you’ll be civil with him.” After a moment of silence, I turned to leave but then paused at his voice.
“Even though you can’t see it sometimes, I love you, Elena, and I want the best for you. You’ll come to me if he’s ever bad to you.”
I nodded, though I knew it would never come to that.
For the first time in my life, I felt free to be me. To curse if I wanted, to keep my smiles for who deserved them, to be bad at something, to fall in love.
Nico didn’t treat me like glass. He shattered the reflection of an empty life staring back at me.
He taught me how to soar.
“A woman should be pink and cuddly for a man.”
—Jayne Mansfield
“SOPHIA ANISE!” MAMMA SCOLDED, AS a half-dressed male dancer humped a woman on stage who turned toward the audience, put a hand toward her mouth, and gasped. “I thought this was a family show?”
Sophia laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Elena is getting married! Who wants to see a family show?”
Mamma had put Sophia in charge of choosing the club and performance, and she had expected something PG?
“I love it!” Gianna exclaimed. “It’s been so long since I’ve been to a burlesque show.”
When we arrived, it was to find Gianna standing outside the club, chatting with the bouncer like she’d known him all her life. Turned out she’d met him three minutes prior. Poor guy probably thought he was getting laid tonight, when really Gianna was bubbly to everyone—well, besides the FBI agent anyway.
Our table was full, but it felt empty without Adriana and Nonna. My sister had severe morning sickness. Nonna said she was “sick as a dog” and that she had it coming to her for getting knocked up out of wedlock. She also said she had to stay home and make sure Adriana was okay, but really, I thought it was just an excuse so she could maintain her eight p.m. bedtime.
The lights sparkled, my cheeks were warm, and my chest felt light, as if it were full of happiness about to escape. I stood and announced, “I need to use the restroom.”