red—not in the sense most would anyway.
I think that’s why I was so eager for last night’s date. It wasn’t about the jewelry or closing the famed store to privately shop, it was the promise of shutting out the rest of the world and just being Rocco and Violet—before the mob and the ballet.
Making my way out of the bathroom, I step into the closet we share and grab the first thing I see. Throwing it on, I pull my hair back into a bun. I’m about to head out of the bedroom when the door opens. Spinning around, my eyes connect with Rocco’s and my heart sinks at the sight of him.
He looks ragged.
Swallowing, I straighten my shoulders and cross my arms against my chest.
“Nice of you to come home,” I say, although there isn’t much bite to my tone. He roughly comes his fingers through his hair and takes a step closer. That’s when I notice his eyes are bloodshot. “Have you been drinking?” I hiss.
At the suggestion anger immediately surges through my entire being. I don’t like being blown off for business, but I will accept it. I won’t fucking tolerate him blowing me off to go get drunk. I am not that girl.
He shakes his head.
“I need you to sit down,” he says hoarsely and again, my stomach rolls with dread. He juts his chin toward the bed and I reluctantly follow his silent command, taking a seat on the foot of it. He follows and sits beside me. We sit there for a few moments and an uncomfortable silence settles between us, then he turns to me and our eyes lock. That’s when I see it.
The pain.
The regret.
The gloom.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he rasps, pausing to swallow. For a second, I tell myself I heard him wrong. I even drag my nails across my arm, much like I did the night Pilar died, but just as I wasn’t dreaming then, I’m not now.
“What can’t you do?” I ask foolishly because no heartbreak is complete without a little self-inflicting torture.
“This. Us. I can’t do it anymore.” He tears his eyes from mine and drops his head into the palm of his hands. I stare at him blankly, waiting for him to elaborate, wondering what the hell could have happened in the last twelve hours that could’ve brought this on. And even though I hate how pathetic the next words sound, I say them anyway.
“I don’t understand.”
He peels his hands away from his face and his glossy eyes find mine.
“I love you, Violet, I swear on everything holy I love you with every fiber of my being—”
I shake my head and cut him off.
They say the tongue has no bones, but it is strong enough to break a heart, that we should be careful with our words, but I wonder if they meant the three words everyone yearns to hear.
“Don’t,” I grind out. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear those words come from your lips?” He doesn’t respond. “Since I’m twelve years old. I didn’t even know what love was, but I knew I wanted to experience it with you. I wanted you to be the man who loved me. I wanted you to be the man I spent my life with. You were nothing back then, just some guy in the neighborhood, my brother’s best friend, but you were everything to me. Now, all these years later, I finally get to hear you say those words, and they are laced with despair. You can’t say those words as a prelude to heartbreak, you just can’t.”
“Violet…”
“No!” I shake my head and get to my feet. “I have to get to the Academy…” My voice trails as his hand wraps around my wrist. He tugs me back to him and hisses, “Violet, listen to me!”
Fighting to hold back the tears filling my eyes, I look back at him. I take in the tortured expression marring his handsome features and my heart splinters inside my chest.
“I don’t want to do this,” he rasps. “And I spent most of the night thinking of how I would tell you, I even toyed with the idea of telling you there was someone else because that would be easier, but I can’t do that. I can’t lie to you.”
A tear slips from the corner of my eye and I quickly brush it away with my free hand.
“Is that supposed to make this better?” I ask.
“No,” he rasps, drawing in