Bound by Temptation (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles #4)(13)

I walked toward the window and peered out. Life was happening everywhere around me. My phone buzzed in my pocket, startling me from my thoughts. I took it out and found an unknown number on my screen. I pressed it against my ear. “Hello?” I whispered as I walked out into the corridor as not to disturb my mother, even though noises hardly woke her anymore.

“Hello Liliana.”

I froze. “Romero?” I couldn’t believe he’d called me, and then a horrible idea struck me, and the only explanation for his call. “God, did something happen to my sisters?”

“No, no. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I wanted to wish you a happy birthday.” His voice was smooth and warm and deep, and it soothed me like honey did with a sore throat.

“Oh,” I said. I braced myself against the wall as my pulse slowed again. “Thank you. Did my sister tell you it was my birthday?” I smiled lightly. I could imagine Aria doing that, hoping to cheer me up. She hadn’t talked to me about it but I was fairly sure she knew that I still liked Romero after all this time.

“She didn’t have to. I know your birthday.”

I didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to say. He remembered my birthday?

“Do you have birthday plans?”

“No. I’ll stay at home and take care of my mother,” I said tiredly. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept through the night. If Mother didn’t wake me because she threw up or was in pain, then I lay awake staring into nothingness.

Romero was silent on the other end, then in an even gentler voice he said. “Things will get better. I know things look hopeless right now but they won’t always be like this.”

“You’ve seen a lot of death in your life. How can you stand it?”

“It’s different if it’s someone you care for who’s dying, or if it’s business-related.” He had to be careful what he said on the phone, so I regretted having brought it up, but hearing his voice felt too good. “My Father died when I was fourteen. We weren’t as close as I’d wanted us to be but his death was the only one that really got me so far.”

“Mother and I aren’t as close as many of my friends are with their mothers, and now that she’s dying I regret it.”

“There’s still time. Maybe more than you think.”

I wanted him to be right but deep down I knew it was only a matter of weeks before Mother would lose her battle. “Thanks, Romero,” I said softly. I wanted to see his face, wanted to smell his comforting scent.

“Do something that’ll make you happy today, even it’s only something small.”

“This is making me happy,” I admitted.

“That’s good,” he said. Silence followed.

“I need to go now.” Suddenly my admittance embarrassed me. When would I stop putting myself out there? I wasn’t someone who was good at hiding her emotions and I hated it.

“Goodbye,” Romero said.

I ended the call without another word, then stared at my phone for a long time. Was I reading too much into Romero’s call? Maybe he wanted to be polite and call the sister of his boss’s wife on her eighteenth birthday to gain some bonus points. But Romero didn’t seem to be the type for that. Then why had he called? Had it something to do with the way he’d looked at me at our Christmas party? Was he starting to like me as much as I liked him?

***

Two weeks after my birthday, Mother’s health deteriorated even further. Her skin was papery and cold, her eyes glazed from the painkillers. My grip on her was loose, scared of hurting her. She looked so breakable. Deep down I knew it wouldn’t be much longer. I wanted to believe a miracle would happen, but I wasn’t a small kid anymore. I knew better. Sometimes I wished I were still that na?ve girl I used to be.

“Aria?” Mother said in a wispy voice.

I jerked up in my chair and leaned closer. “No, it’s me Liliana.”

Mother’s eyes focused on me and she smiled softly. It looked horribly sad on her worn out face. She’d been so beautiful and proud once, and now she was only a shell of that woman.

“My sweet Lily,” she said.

I pressed my lips together. Mother had never been the overly affectionate type. She’d hugged us and read bedtime stories to us and generally tried to be the best mother she knew how to be, but she’d almost never called us nicknames. “Yes, I’m here.” At least until Father tried to send me away again. If it was up to him Mother would be locked away from everyone she loved, only cared for by the nurses he’d hired until she finally passed away. I tried to tell myself it was because he wanted to protect her, to let a proud woman be remembered as she used to be and not only for her sickness, but I had a feeling that wasn’t his main incentive. Sometimes I wondered if he was embarrassed by her.

“Where are your sisters? And Fabi?” She peered over my head as if she expected to see them there.

I lowered my gaze to her chin, not able to look into her eyes. “Fabi is busy with school.” That was a blatant lie. Father made sure Fabi was busy with God-only-knew-what, so he didn’t spend too much time with our mother. As if Father worried her sickness would rub off on Fabi if he got too close. “Aria and Gianna will be here soon. They can’t wait to see you again.”