The champagne no doubt played a role in my questionable choices. I could have screamed or put up more of a fight, but I didn’t. No matter how much he had hurt me in the past, no matter how wary I was of seeing him again, he was still Nico. I couldn’t unlove him if I’d tried, which I hadn’t. The most terrifying part was that I didn’t think I ever wanted to stop loving Nico. How messed up was that? He was an intrinsic part of me, and cutting him loose would mean eviscerating an integral part of my soul.

I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

So where did that leave me?

Bawling my eyes out for the better part of the night, that was where. Some of my turmoil had run far deeper than anything Nico had done. Seeing him replay the worst night of my life had brought back all the oppressive emotions linked to Marco’s death. I hurt in ways I’d forgotten a person could hurt.

Then the pendulum would swing the other way, and I’d remember the momentary bliss I’d felt when I’d stolen that kiss from Nico in his car. My lips on his had erased all the other hurt and fear. Being in his arms had brought me more comfort and surety than anything ever had before. But it was as short lived as a rainbow trailing a summer storm. When I witnessed the understanding that passed between Nico and my father, the puzzle pieces slid themselves into place, revealing a crisp image of what had happened so many years ago.

Nico became a member of the mafia, choosing the family over me.

He had become a part of my father’s outfit and, in turn, walked away from me. He could claim he was protecting me or that he was sworn to secrecy, but every rule had exceptions. It had been his choice to push me away. His choice to join the outfit. His choice to keep those secrets.

Everything was a choice.

Why couldn’t he have trusted me with his secret? Did he think I would tell someone and endanger him? Did he not realize I was already in danger, considering my father’s associations? Whether I knew about my father or not, Nico had to have known, which meant he knew I was already at risk. So how would pushing me away keep me any safer?

No matter how I examined what happened, none of it made sense. I could only assume there was more he wasn’t telling me. It was a safe guess—people always left something unsaid. We were creatures of habit, and our most intrinsic habit was the keeping of secrets.

I had thought my relationship with Nico was different, but why, I didn’t know. I’d kept my family’s secrets from him, so why wouldn’t he keep secrets of his own from me? I wasn’t purely good or evil. Neither was he.

Maybe that meant I should have cut him some slack and recognized that his actions might not have been purely malicious. I’d tried not to condemn him unjustly, but the pain of everything that had happened clouded my judgment. He had wounded me too deeply for me to view his actions from an impartial perspective.