Page 114 of Fake Dark Vows

So, no. The woman who is heading to meet Elio today isn’t the same wide-eyed girl who saw him last. When I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t see someone who is swayed by pretty words and a handsome face.

My eyes are harder, my cheekbones more pronounced. I frown as often as I smile, and my lovely daughter has put more than one gray hair on my head, which I’ve carefully concealed with a well-timed salon trip.

No, this time I’m much less easy to fool.

And I’m kind of proud of that fact.

I push my shoulders back as I think about who I am now. I’m someone who has had a baby. A whole goddamn human grew in my body, and I care for her. I have a job that I love, even if it’s one that others wouldn’t find very glamorous. But, everyone needs a CPA.

Especially if you’re trying to dodge giving the government all of your hard-earned illegal cash.

I’m shocked to realize that I actually like myself more now than I did then.

I wonder if Elio will like me now too.

I almost bark out a laugh at the thought. I’m not trying to win Elio’s approval.

Not this time.

Last time though, Elio’s approval, and his love, were on the top of my mind as I got ready for my engagement party.

Shutting my eyes, I sink into the memory of that pivotal night six years ago.

I don’t need to think that hard to remember how my last engagement party went.

The whole thing lives in my head, and I think about it far, far too often.

Six years ago

My heart is in my throat and my palms are sweating.

I’m frozen in the car. I know I’m supposed to get out but I can’t get out, because if I do, I’m going to cry.

Or scream.

Or both.

Elio Rossi is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. I know that he’s my brother’s age, and I know that I’ve been obsessed with him for just as long.

I don’t have any illusions that he feels the same about me. For him, this is a business arrangement. It’s something our fathers cooked up after a wild weekend in Atlantic City, something that they want for the business.

Or for nostalgia.

I’m not really sure, actually, but I do know that both of them are wholeheartedly behind this marriage.

And I’m not sure at all how Elio feels about it.

“Let’s go, sorellina,” Marco calls to me from the open car door. “This isn’t Groundhog Gay, you have to come out sometime.”

Oh. God.

Now Elio thinks I’m hiding in the car.

I scoot to the side and stick one leg out. “I’m not…”

The heel of my shoe catches on the floor mat.

For a heart-stopping moment, I know I’m going to fall.