“Spencer. Tell me the truth.” Her voice rises, giving me serious mom vibes, which is a vibe I’ve never gotten from Syl before. “Are you in. The. Mob?”
“My father kind of is.” Fuck. I can’t come straight out and say it.
“Which makes you what…a member by default?”
“I help him out. Sometimes helping him out involves violence. If you’re a Donato, it comes with the territory.” I shrug, not wanting to give her too many details.
She’s gaping at me, seemingly at a loss for words, and I almost want to laugh, though the moment isn’t funny. Not even close. “I always thought the mob talk surrounding your family was nothing but rumors.”
“Rumors are usually based on truth, you know.” I grab an empty glass and pour some whiskey into it before pushing the glass toward her, but she doesn’t pick it up. “Look, Syl. I’ve done some things I’m not proud of.”
“Me too,” she admits, her voice soft. “But I always thought you’d be truthful withme, Spencer. This feels like you’ve been living a lie.”
I stare at her, her words like arrows piercing my heart, one after the other. “I was trying to protect you.”
Another scoff. “Please.”
I decide to be one hundred percent real with her. “I didn’t want you thinking less of me.”
“Come on, Spencer. Don’t you know me well enough by now? That I would never think less of you, no matter what you do?”
“You still surprise me on occasion,” I admit, reaching for her, but she steps away before I can get my hands on her.
“I’m disappointed in you.” She grabs the glass and tosses back the alcohol in one long swallow, and fuck, if that wasn’t sexy as hell.
“How can I make it up to you?” My tone is dark. Suggestive.
I’d rather fuck than talk.
She settles the glass onto the countertop with a loud clank, then runs her hand over the smooth marble. “Did you ever think of me on this counter? Remember what we did?”
My skin tightens. “I remember every second of that night.”
“I was drunk and high, showing up like I did only wearing a trench coat.”
“Hot as fuck in just the coat and nothing else,” I murmur.
Her eyes lift, meeting mine. “I was scared I would never see you again. I took a chance, coming here in the middle of the night. It could’ve ended ugly, you know.”
“I would’ve never turned you away.”
“Exactly, and I would never turn you away, no matter what you’ve done. I need you to be real with me, Spencer. Truthful. Always. We can’t have secrets between us anymore. Secrets destroy a relationship. A marriage. Secrets destroy everything, and I’ve dealt with enough over the years.” Her gaze is pleading. “Please don’t keep any more secrets from me. I don’t know if I can take it.”
I round the counter and go to her, yanking her into my arms and holding her close. “I’m sorry,” I murmur into her hair, closing my eyes and saying a silent prayer of thanks when she doesn’t pull away. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I still don’t want to talk about it, but I know that I’ll have to, eventually. It’s just the way of the world, the way of our world. Our relationship.
Keeping secrets never work. They grow and fester, eventually tainting everything they touch. And I can’t taint what Sylvie and I have, now that we’re together.
“Does Whit know?” she asks.
“He knows some things, but not all of them.”
“So even my brother knows this about you, but I don’t.” She tries to pull away from me, but I tighten my hold.
“That’s not fair. He’s my best friend. He figured it out on his own, I never told him about it.” I pause, stroking her hair. “Besides, we haven’t been in actual contact with each other for a couple of years. I’m not going to lead with that information.”
Sylvie giggles, her mood switching quick as lightning, as usual. “Why not? Could’ve made the conversation between us extra stimulating.”