Then she’ll be alone, with only my worthless ass to protect her. The choice is unbearable.

Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

SARAH

It’s my wedding day, and I can’t breathe.

With one hand on either side of the window frame, I look down at the post where I taped the note to choof off. There are a few new flyers getting soaked in the rain. No sign of Connor or Remo. This is what it feels like to be cut off from the world.

The sun is rising behind the thick clouds. The city is still dark enough to reflect the hope draining from my face as Denise comes in with a plastic-covered white dress on a hanger.

“Look what I brought!” she chirps. “I think it’ll fit you. I was a little bigger on my wedding day.”

She was pregnant, but not that much. Probably enough to make the dress fit my frame.

Lightning flashes, drowning out the reflections in favor of a color-drained street.

“Thanks.” I push away from the window.

My hair falls out of the towel that held it up. I clutch closed the towel that’s wrapped under my arms. If that comes off too, I’m one step closer to putting on the dress.

“Yours was nicer but…” She doesn’t finish. Thunder cracks like a slap, then rumbles like a snore. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“You get used to it.” She twists the hanger hook and places it on top of the closet molding. “Then you do the wife things and it’s fine.”

Denise has always been resigned to the way things are. It never bothered me before, but I’ve changed. I’m not as pure as the white of the dress she brought, and though it might be close enough to the size of my body, it won’t fit me.

“You know what I’m going to get used to?”

I stop myself from answering my own question.

Dario being free.

She doesn’t need to hear that. She won’t understand that I have to do this for Dario.

“What?” She lifts the plastic from the gown. I remember it well. I helped her make it.

“Having you around.”

She makes an aww sound that matches her expression and holds her arms out for a hug. Her sleeves ride up, revealing a fading bruise on her forearm.

Marco must have woken with a headache.

I hug her and think maybe—from in here—I can help her get rid of that man.

“It’s going to be okay.” She rocks me back and forth. “You’re finally going to have the wedding you were supposed to have.”

I’ll marry Sergio while still sore from Dario. Still wanting him. The insult is delicious, but the taste of my love is already fading on my tongue, and the memory of his touch will disappear with it.