Dante’s father walked into the wine cellar and came up behind him, watching as he slid the bottles into racks, their home for the next several months.
He stood taller, crossed his arms, and regarded Dante with narrowed, assessing eyes. “This business with Bella. It stops. Now.”
Dante blinked at his words. No preamble, no chitchat.
“I don’t understand what you mean,” he hedged.
His father let out a disbelieving snort. “What rubbish, Dante. First, you mess around with the girl, then you behave like nothing has changed. And now you ignore. A good girl like Bella deserves an honest man, not someone who takes advantage. I expected better.”
Dante’s mouth fell open at the accusations. “I, ah …”
“What? Nothing to say?”
Dante collected himself and frowned. “Actually, yes. I have a lot to say, and the first part begins with she’s a grown woman, not a girl. You and Mr Davis have got to stop calling her that. Mum was only twenty when she had Raph. Belle’s thirty-two. She’s a grown-ass woman who knows exactly what she wants to do with her life and is more capable than most people ten years older, not some child who needs patting on the head. Show her the respect she deserves.”
He drew a deep breath, winding up. The frustration of the last few days was finally wearing him down. “Secondly, it’s none of your business. It’s no one’s but mine and Belle’s. So, you can take your judgement and do with it what you will. What happened between us is personal.”
Sam tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. He looked so much like Angel that Dante paused.
“You cannot run around hurting young gir—women, all because you lost control of yourself. She is your friend. That comes first. You love her. Do not lose her because you could not keep your hands to yourself and messed up.”
Dante crossed his arms and gritted his teeth. “You say that as if it’s fact.”
To his surprise, his father laughed. “That is because it is true. Love her as a friend if that is all it is or love her as a wife. Make the choice. But there is nothing to say you cannot love the friend as the wife and have both.”
Dante lost the ability to speak for the second time in as many minutes. He swallowed and coughed to try to regain the function of his vocal cords.
Marry Belle? Could he salvage enough of their relationship that she’d consider it? Not necessarily now, but in the future?
He hadn’t called her back. She’d said she’d call him when she had time. He didn’t want to intrude on her time with her mother while she was in hospital.
But when he’d got back toward town and had finally had phone reception and had seen her missed call? His heart had nearly given out with relief. He’d replayed her message over and over, thanking whoever wanted recognition that she’d called him.
I just hope you can forgive me.
She’d cut him to his soul with her hurtful words, with her lack of faith in him, but the fact that she’d stepped up and apologised, that she knew she’d screwed up? That meant a lot.
“I heard about what she said to you. She said those things because she feels guilt that she chose time with you over her mother. You love her, she loves you. If you wait, you will lose her. Would you rather see her with someone else, because you were too scared to face the truth? Would you prefer to see her with Raphael?”
Did his father really think she loved him like that? Could he let himself hope? Deep-seated yearning that drilled down to his very soul, drenched every synapse and nerve with longing and pain. He missed her so much.
Raph’s name had the desired effect as his father’s words sank in. Heat flooded Dante’s vision. He tried to hold his breath and count to ten. He failed miserably.
“Raph has nothing to do with this and I’ll kill the bastard if he tries to swoop in and be the saviour. She’s too good for him.”
“Bah!” Sam grunted and flicked his hand in the air. “You and the other boys are the same, too stubborn to accept what is right in front of you. Bella is the best thing to ever happen to you. Why won’t you accept it and be done?”
Dante paced the concrete floor and shoved both hands through his hair. “Why won’t you accept that we might have screwed it up? That we ruined it by stepping past those boundaries. We can’t go back to being just friends. Not when …”
Not when I know how good it could be.
He eyeballed his father, frustration, anger, and pain tightening his skin. “You’re just griping because if she doesn’t come back, you won’t get your regular dose of tiramisu.”
Sam chuckled. “You don’t want to be responsible for me missing my dessert.” He stepped forward and took Dante’s shoulders in his gnarled, weather-beaten hands. “Friends as strong as you two can overcome anything. Don’t let your hurt pride steal your future. Forever is a long time to regret.”
His father straightened and his face softened. “I want nipoti before I am dead. You must give them to me. The others have no chance until I am a corpse.”
Dante burst out laughing. He shook his head. “Oh, you’re too good, Pa. Grandkids? Talk to Valeria or Leo. They’re the most likely to give you that.”
Sam shook his head. “No. I accept only from you and Bella. You must be first.”
Dante watched him go, his stomach in knots from their heated conversation.
Kids with Belle.
It wasn’t as if it hadn’t crossed his mind, particularly over the last couple of years.
A family with his best friend.
What could be better?