Chapter Thirteen

The house was eerily still the following morning as I padded down the hallway in search of Dante, who’d mysteriously disappeared from the bed at some point during the night. I paused outside the door to Lilly’s room, wondering if he’d returned there. When I placed my hand on the knob, about to turn it, I hesitated. I couldn’t quite explain why, but I had a feeling he wasn’t there. I had a feeling he wasn’t here at all.

I continued down the stairs, my entire body sore from whatever last night was. It wasn’t sex. It was something much uglier. When I emerged on the lower level, I caught a glimpse of myself in a large mirror in the living room. I smoothed my dark hair back, leaning in to get a closer look at my bloodshot eyes, the normal hazel color clouded over. It appeared as if I hadn’t slept in days, and after last night, I felt as if I hadn’t, either, completely unsettled and unsure of what to think.

After tightening the sash of my robe, I headed into the kitchen. Empty. Worry filled me as I searched the rest of the living areas and the patio area. Still no sign of Dante. The entire place looked just as we’d left it before heading up to the bedroom last night, right down to a trail of flour from the kitchen island and throughout the living area that we’d missed when cleaning up after dinner.

I stepped back inside from the outdoor pool, my brain going a million miles a minute. Was Dante upset I’d walked in on him in his daughter’s room last night? Was he ashamed of how he’d allowed his pain to consume him? Or did he just not want to see me now that he knew my father may have been responsible for Lilly’s death? I had no idea.

As I was about to head back upstairs to see if my gut was wrong and check Lilly’s room, I heard the creak of the front door opening. I dashed from the kitchen, hopeful, only to find myself disappointed when a familiar female voice called out Dante’s name, followed by something in Italian. I rounded the corner into the living area. Beatrice came to a stop when she saw me.

“Oh, Eleanor. I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t disturb anything,” she said with a sly grin.

“No, you didn’t,” I responded, wrapping my arms around my body, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. I didn’t know why I was so agitated by Dante’s mysterious absence. Last night, if he’d been the same Dante I’d grown accustomed to, if I hadn’t walked in on him kneeling in front of his daughter’s bed, if I hadn’t spent half the night snuggled against his trembling body, if I hadn’t been the daughter of the man who may be responsible for her death, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Something about his disappearance with no word didn’t sit right with me.

“What is it?” Beatrice asked, cutting through my thoughts and looking at me with concern. “Is everything okay?”

I met her eyes. “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “When I woke up, Dante wasn’t here.”

“Well, he is a bit of an early riser. I’m sure you’ve realized that by now.”

“Yes, but…” I trailed off, collecting my thoughts, unsure of what to say. As much as I would have loved to disclose the conversation I’d overheard yesterday, I didn’t know if I should, the thought of betraying Dante’s trust making my stomach roll. “I woke up in the middle of the night and he wasn’t in bed, so I went looking for him.” I paused. “He was in Lilly’s room.”

She closed her eyes, understanding seeming to wash over her.

“When he realized I had been watching him…” I swallowed hard, leaving out the details of what happened in the bedroom. “He wasn’t angry, but he wasn’t himself, either. He…”

She placed her hand on my shoulder, stopping me from saying anything further. “I won’t lie to you. Dante still struggles with what happened to Lilly. He refuses to believe it was just an unfortunate event, especially since getting that phone call from that so-called source back in March.”

I shot my eyes to hers, surprised at her forwardness in discussing this. Dante must have told her he’d shared this with me.

“What do you think?”

“I think…” She pulled her lips between her teeth, pausing for a moment. “I think if it were my son or daughter, I’d be going through the same thing as Dante. If someone called me and said my child’s death could have been avoided, that she only died because of someone’s conscious wrongdoing, I wouldn’t stop until I knew exactly who was responsible…regardless of the cost to anyone I may have feelings for.”

I briefly closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath.

“Then I’d make them pay for the rest of their miserable lives.”

I nodded, remaining silent as I lowered my head, feeling guilty about my father’s potential role in all of this. Feeling like I was partly responsible, too.

“I may be out of line,” Beatrice said when I didn’t offer anything in response, “but Dante didn’t happen to tell you about a phone call he received yesterday, did he?”

“No, but I overheard,” I replied sheepishly. “You need to know that I don’t know anything. I’m not involved at all. I’m not like them.”

“I know that.” She gave me a reassuring smile. “So does Dante.”

I shook my head, pulling my lips between my teeth as I stared off into the distance. “He’s more forgiving than I would be in this situation. Even after learning my dad may have had a part to play, he still wants me to stay. He still wants a future with me.”

“But…” Beatrice lifted a brow.

I chewed on my cheek, exhaling a long breath as I returned my eyes to hers. There were so many reasons why I needed to leave on the tip of my tongue. Regardless, there was one I never considered until that very moment, one I didn’t realize to be true, one I didn’t realize was paramount to everything else.

“But we’re both too broken to try and fix each other. We need to fix ourselves first.”

She studied me for a moment, then understanding fell over her expression, her lips turning up slightly at the corners. “You’re doing the right thing. If Giuseppe and I never had the time apart we did and learned to be ourselves, it never would have worked out. Sometimes you need to find yourself before you can see yourself with another person.” She placed her hand on my bicep, squeezing slightly. “He’s trying to fix himself. He’s finally back here.”

“What do you mean?” I furrowed my brow.

“This is the first time he’s been in this house since Lilly died.”

“Why hasn’t he been back? This place is gorgeous.”

“How would you feel if you had to be surrounded by reminders of happy memories? That’s the reason he bought the apartment in Rome. He couldn’t bear to be here anymore. Whenever he comes to check in on the vineyard, he stays with his mother or at our vacation home down the street.”

I glanced around, almost able to hear the long-forgotten sounds of a child’s laughter. “If this house holds such difficult memories, why did he bring me here?” I swallowed hard, trying to understand what Dante was going through.

“Your guess is as good as mine, but based on how well I know Dante, he probably hoped to create some new memories with someone he believes could be his future, instead of constantly dwelling on the past. I think you give him hope that he’ll be able to move on from this time in his life. For that, I’ll forever be grateful you ran into each other, regardless of whether or not it works out between you two.” She gave me a sincere smile, then stepped back, her face brightening. “Would you like me to bring you to him?”

“You know where he is?” I lifted a brow.

“Dante and I may be cousins, but he’s always been more like a brother to me. I’ve been by his side through everything. His first girlfriend. His first bad breakup. When he checked in to rehab before he overdosed and killed himself.” A compassionate smile crossed her face. “I know him better than anyone else, except for his mother, of course. I have a feeling I know where he is. It’s the same place he always goes when he needs reassurance he’s on the right path. Go get ready.”

I shifted from foot to foot, chewing on my lower lip. “Maybe I should just wait here. After the way he was last night, I’m sure he just wants to be alone right now.”

“Perhaps,” she said with a shrug. “Or perhaps he left because he doesn’t think you want to see him.”

I averted my gaze.

“Trust me, Eleanor,” she urged. “I have a feeling Dante would love nothing more than to see you right now.”

Nodding, I reluctantly turned from her, about to head up the stairs, then met her eyes once more. “Beatrice?”

She tilted her head toward me.

“Please, don’t let Dante know that I overheard his phone conversation. I just…”

She held her hand up, cutting me off. “My lips are sealed.”