Sempre (Forever Series #1)(109)
“Have you tried some, Dad?” Dominic asked.
“No.”
Dominic cut another slice and slapped it on a plate, holding it out to his father. “You should.”
“I’d rather not,” Vincent said, eyeing the plate with distaste.
Dominic shrugged. “Your loss, but I tell you—this is the best cake I’ve ever had. She’s a great cook.”
“Yeah,” Carmine said. “Probably all the Italian in her.”
He tensed when he realized what he’d said and noticed his father had the same reaction. Vincent opened his water and took a drink as Carmine tried to think of something to say to shift the conversation elsewhere. Before he could, Dominic laughed. “Must be. You know damn well she has Carmine’s full-blooded Italian in her all the time.”
Vincent coughed as he choked on his drink. Celia snorted, trying to hold back her amusement, but Dominic didn’t bother containing himself. The laughter died down as Vincent caught his breath, looking at him with disapproval. Carmine waited for him to say something, but he just walked out.
After he was gone, they burst into another round of laughter. Haven looked at Carmine with confusion. “I thought you were half-Irish.”
Carmine opened his mouth to answer but closed it again, shaking his head. There was no way to explain it without embarrassing her.
* * *
Night fell, the house as still as a graveyard. Vincent sat in his office, glaring at the plate on his desk. The small sliver of cake was just enough to taste, but the thought of taking a bite made his stomach churn.
Maura always made Italian cream cake. It had been her favorite.
He fingered the small gold band around his neck, his pinky finger barely fitting halfway through it. The metal was startlingly cold against his skin but not as cold as Vincent felt inside.
After another minute of staring at the cake, he picked up the plate and tossed it into the trash. It hit the bottom of the empty wastebasket with a loud clank, and Vincent didn’t give it another thought. He slipped the necklace under the neckline of his shirt again, concealing it, and picked up a stack of papers on his desk.
X-rays, consultations, broken bones, stitches. Diseases, rashes, infections, viruses. One awful diagnosis after another, but Vincent preferred it to the morose thoughts swimming in his head.
For as many lives as he’d destroyed, as many people as he’d watched die, there were countless others he’d saved. And as exhausted as he was, somewhere in the mound of files in front of him had to be another patient who could take the sting of death away.
If only for a little while.
37
The warm June weather gave way to a sprawling Carolina heat as July dawned. Triple-digit temperatures seeped into the region, stirring up thunderstorms and intermittent showers every day. Fireflies emerged again, flickering in the night sky, as a sense of contentment settled over Haven.
She ventured outside with Carmine every day, strolling through the backyard in her bare feet. She climbed trees and chased bugs, picked flowers and ran through sprinklers, and all the while Carmine urged her on. His support became invaluable to her, and Haven couldn’t imagine going a single day without him.
She’d have to, though. They both knew it.
“Aren’t you gonna be late, bro?” Dominic asked as he walked into the family room, where the two of them sat. Haven sighed exasperatedly, having asked that same question a moment ago. She had been trying to get Carmine to leave for the past thirty minutes, but he wouldn’t budge.
Carmine slouched down. “I’m not going.”
Dominic laughed. “Scared you’ll get hurt?”
“I’m not afraid,” Carmine said.
“Then quit whining and go.”
Carmine grumbled incoherently, still not appearing like he had any intention of moving. He was scheduled to attend football camp for a week in Chapel Hill. He’d been fine with going away and talked incessantly about what he would do when he was there, and she had listened, although she didn’t know what encroachment or interference or any of that other stuff meant. She was just grateful he was sharing something with her.
But this morning, when Haven opened her eyes, there was no smile on Carmine’s lips. None of the excitement was present anymore. All she saw was her own anxiety reflecting back to her.
“You have to go,” she said at the same time he uttered the words he had been repeating all morning: “I’m not going.”
He pretended to be interested in the television, but she could see his eyes drifting to the clock. Time was running out. He was supposed to be at the University of North Carolina by five to check in and it was already past one.
“I’ll still be here when you get back.”
His eyes snapped in her direction. “Of course you will. Where else would you be?”
She sighed—that was the wrong thing to say.
“Don’t worry about her, man,” Dominic said, walking up behind them. “I have plans for her this week. I’m going to keep her so busy she won’t even realize you’re gone.”
Haven smiled but didn’t believe his words.
“You’ll get her in more trouble than she could ever find on her own,” Carmine said. “Maybe that’s why I’m not going.”
Dominic laughed. “If you aren’t going, you must not trust her.”