Love in Purgatory (De La Fuente Family 2)

His jaw clenched tightly as his gaze left her to glare at his father again. “What about the others? I’m presuming you’re going to tell them.” It wasn’t a question that came out of Dante’s mouth but a demand, like: you will tell them.

“Dante?”

“Em, not now,” he snarled, and she took a step back—hurt and heartbroken.

Eric came up beside her and pulled her back toward him. “Leave him for now,” he whispered. “He needs to let everything he’s heard sink in. Give him time.” Eric took her into his arms.

She was glad for the support, and snuggled against Eric because she’d never needed comforting more than she did then, while the truth that she’d known for years had finally been told.

The deepest hurt came from Dante’s rejection. She knew that it had to be one heck of a shock for him to discover the truth after all these years.

It still hurt though.

Chapter Eighteen

Dante’s head throbbed with what he’d overheard. He’d had no intention of listening in on the conversation until he’d heard ‘biological’, and then he’d been frozen in place...and he’d listened.

Why had Emelia and Eric been in the room for the discussion without him? Had he been excluded for some reason?

He looked at his father, and asked, “Were you planning on telling me or was this just Emelia and Eric’s show?”

“No!” Emelia cried, and it was like a knife to the heart. He’d pushed her away when she’d needed holding, like his brother held her now.

She’d wanted to console him as well. He’d seen it on her face clear as day, but he knew that he’d fall apart if she touched him.

“No, Dante,” she tried to move to him but the arm Eric had wrapped around her waist prevented her from going anywhere, “I wanted to talk to them first, and then I was going to come and tell you...I needed what I overheard confirmed before I told you.”

Wait. What?

“What do you mean overheard?” he bit out between his clenched jaw.

“About Diego and me having a different father, everything you just overheard, really.”

He couldn’t even think about it because his head swam with words that came at him all at once. His first thought had been to run, and he wished that he’d done that so he didn’t have to face everyone. He was a priest and supposed to be able to forgive, but he never truly forgave his father for the betrayal of his mother. How could he forgive now when the truth to those lies could have sent his life along a different path?

“How long have you known?” he asked Emelia, and when she stayed silent and chewed on her lip, he looked at his father and Lucia and then t

o Eric, but no one volunteered the answer. “How long?” he growled.

“About nine years.”

He took a step back at Emelia’s confession, and if it wasn’t for the look on her face, he’d have thought that he’d misheard, but he hadn’t. “Nine years?” he hissed.

“I tried to tell you after...but you wouldn’t talk to me or answer my calls, and then I discovered that you’d gone to the church, and tried again. It was so hard. You’re too damn stubborn.”

“And you?” he asked, Eric.

“Since Thanksgiving,” Eric answered.

“I need to think.” With that he turned and left the room as quickly as he’d entered without any idea as to where he was going. His thoughts were running faster than he could and he knew he couldn’t outrun them. But he could outrun his family.

His room was out of the question, and he knew that Eric would come after him. He’d heard Emelia as she begged Eric to go after him so he wasn’t alone. Even after he’d pushed her away, she was still thinking about him and how he was feeling.

Emelia…

He’d wanted nothing more than to have her arms around him, and to accept the comfort that she’d wanted to give him. He shouldn’t have pushed her away.

As well as having a lot on his mind, it was obviously filled with Emelia because he found himself standing in the middle of her favorite place in the house—the sunroom.