“Incomprehensible! This is what you have always been. You have a talent that most would trade their soul for. And here you sit, set to give it up. I forbid it. I forbid you to ruin your future. You have always threatened me with your ability to dance, because you have always known what it meant. I have been allowing you to be free, for a time, to keep you satisfied. But I will not allow you to ruin your future for that man.”
“Here we are again!” I shot up. “What’s wrong with Brando Fausti? Why do you hate him so much, Mati?”
“I do not hate him, hči!”
“What has he ever done to you!” I charged forward. “He was always there for Elliott. Why did you send him away? Why!”
“He is not like us!”
We both stilled. A deathly quiet descended. No matter if it was expected or not, the truth stung. No matter what she said about me, I could take it. But something reared its ugly head when she turned on him.
I ran my foot against the earth, drawing a line between us. “Oh,” I finally managed. “Good. I don’t want him to be like us. Never. I love him, Mati. I always have. And I always will. And you will just have to accept that. Or learn to live with it. I’m not leaving. Recant the offer. Or I will.”
I turned to go, but she put a hand on my arm, applying a liberal amount of pressure.
She asked me in Slovenian if he asked me to stay.
I refused to answer her.
She brought my finger closer to her face, her eyes running over the ring.
She asked me in Slovenian if he asked for my hand in marriage.
I refused to answer her.
“I do not care which opportunity you choose, Scarlett Rose.” Her tone cut to the bone, in retaliation for the softer tone of mine. There would be no more arguing. I had made up my mind. Brando had given up all of the opportunities offered to him for me. I’d do the same for him.
“But you will choose. That is my final say. I might not be able to persuade your will, but I will direct the outcome. You have worked too hard, your talent too great, to let it all die in vain. No.” She took another hard look at the ring and then let my hand drop. “You will go, whether it is me or someone else giving you the push you need to take the leap.”
She turned and left me alone out in the cold.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Scarlett
He didn’t look at me the same. Nor did he touch me as much. After our time on Snow, a clear and thin battle line had been drawn between us. He had his side. I had mine.
In the beginning I had been intent on destroying the line, of crossing it whenever and however I liked, but it takes two to create peace.
I tried everything in my arsenal to sway his resolve—dancing, flirting, humor, sulking, anger—but nothing seemed to touch him. He was not outwardly cruel, but the aloofness that hovered became a wet blanket over a fire. Smothering. He still touched and kissed and hugged me—more hugs than anything—but it always seemed more platonic than romantic.
I tried a different tact.
I went the other way, forcing myself into self-imposed misery by acting just as aloof as he was. He noticed this, and a few times he almost gave in to my need, close to this again, but he always pulled away, not even an excuse to soften the blow.
Then my aloofness seemed to turn his aloofness into anger. It was never directed at me, but he was irritable, always just an inch closer to blowing some unseen gasket. The war between us seemed to be nonexistent to him. His war came from an internal conflict.
Once all tactics had failed, we found ourselves in a valley. No place to go but either left or right. Forward or behind. Together or apart.
Unbeknownst to him, I had already made my mind up. I was not leaving. I had a plan. That plan included local college, teaching, and above all else, Brando Fausti in my life for always. He would just have to get over his effing convictions.
Instead of dwelling on love, or the lack thereof, I dwelled on Maggie Beautiful’s reading extravaganza.
We were now nearing the end of spring, and she was reading like a pro. I surprised her with balloons, quotes from