Fragile Longing

by Reilly, Cora

  Instead, I got up, paid, and went outside. My heart pounded when I caught sight of myself in the shop window. Like a Serafina ghost.

  Samuel was leaning against his car, reading something on his phone. The moment he spotted me, the color drained from his face. I froze on the sidewalk a few steps from him and gingerly touched my smooth hair. Samuel straightened slowly, but the look of shock and horror remained on his face. That wasn’t exactly the reaction I’d hoped for. Surprise, yes, but this . . . this utter horror?

  “What have you done?”

  I shrugged, trying to play it down. I didn’t want people to make a big deal out of it. I only wanted them to realize that I wasn’t so different from Serafina, that I was also worthy. I wanted them to see me. Of course, now that I’d seen myself with blonde hair, I realized how stupid my plan had been. “I needed a change.”

  “Sofia,” Samuel whispered harshly, grabbing my arm. “You—why would you want to look like . . . like Serafina?”

  Tears stung my eyes, but a fierce ball of indignation and anger rose inside of me. He made it sound as if I’d sullied her memory by trying to resemble her, as if I wasn’t worthy of this look. He was part of the reason why I wanted to look like Fina, and now he played clueless. Or maybe he really didn’t realize how much he and everyone else mourned her absence and how little room they left for me.

  I didn’t want a fight with Samuel, not today. “I just wanted something different.”

  Samuel sighed, tearing his eyes from my hair almost painfully. He gave me a one-armed hug. He held open the door for me and we didn’t say another word until we arrived back home.

  Samuel’s reaction was only the beginning. When we got home, things only became more awkward. Mom was the first to spot me, and she looked completely taken off guard. She froze on the last step of the staircase, a bunch of table napkins in her hand. She looked at Samuel, then back at me. I was sure she’d start crying, but then her face smoothed and she gave me a tight smile. Her grip on the banister was white-knuckled. “You colored your hair?”

  She tried to sound casual, but I could tell it wasn’t easy for her. I’d wanted to surprise everyone, not elicit this horrified shock. Everyone had always commented on how beautiful Serafina’s hair was.

  “I wanted your hair color,” I said. Of course, that wasn’t the reason. The look in my mother’s eyes told me she knew the truth.

  She nodded as she walked over to me, her eyes constantly flitting to my hair as if she needed proof to believe it. She touched my hair gingerly. “Your hair was beautiful. I already miss it.”

  I searched her face, wondering if she was being honest. Did she prefer me with brown hair? Or did the blonde remind her too much of Serafina and the hurtful truth that I wasn’t her?

  “Where’s Anna?” I asked. Sam’s and Mom’s reaction had made me feel self-conscious. My new appearance was meant to give me a boost, not break my self-confidence down even more.

  “She’s upstairs in her guestroom. Don’t forget your guests will be there at five.”

  I ran up the stairs and knocked at Anna’s door. The door opened, startling me. Leonas stood in the doorway, his eyes growing wider as he looked at me. “Whoa, what happened to you?” he blurted, staring at me as if I was an alien.

  I flushed but deflected it with a casual shrug. “I changed my hair. Maybe you should consider it, too.”

  He rolled his eyes and tossed his hair back. “I like my hair.”

  Anna stepped up behind me. One glance at me had her pushing Leonas out of her room. “Give us some privacy. Go bug Samuel.”

  “Hey!” Leonas protested but Anna dragged me inside and slammed the door in his face.

  Our eyes met. I could tell right away that she wasn’t a fan of my new hairstyle. That made two of us. “What did you do?” she hissed. Her gaze traced my hair, almost as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  I touched my hair. It didn’t feel any different than before—neither did I. “I just wanted a change,” I said defensively.

  Anna looked doubtful. “I thought we promised to never lie to each other.”

  We’d pinky-sworn on it when we were six, and ever since we’d always told each other the truth. Anna was my confidante. With Fina gone, she was my only one. I simply couldn’t talk about everything with Mom, much less with Dad or Samuel.

  “It’s not a lie,” I muttered, then sighed. I walked over to the bed and plopped down, staring up at the ceiling. “I wanted a change, but . . .” I took a deep breath, hating to admit what had motivated me. “Everyone misses Fina so much. Since she left, there’s a huge hole in our lives. I just wanted people to notice me.”

  Anna stretched out beside me, watching me. I kept my gaze ahead, embarrassed. “But you aren’t her. Even blonde hair won’t change that.”

  “I know,” I said miserably. Samuel’s and Mom’s reaction had made that blatantly clear.

  Anna linked our hands. “You don’t need to be her. You’re perfect the way you are. Don’t you think your parents and Samuel would miss you just the same if you were gone? Be yourself. Eventually, the gap Serafina’s disappearance left will close. Just give it time.”

  Would they? Samuel and Fina had shared a special bond, which was natural.

  When I didn’t say anything, Anna leaned over me, her face all I could see. “Or is this about Danilo?”

  I shrugged again. If I kept it up, I’d dislocate my shoulder soon. “It’s not not about him.” I paused. “He’s still in love with Fina. I can tell how much he’s hurting because she’s gone.”

  Anna shook her head and snorted. “He isn’t in love with her. He didn’t even know her. How often did they see each other? Twice a year at social functions. I bet he never saw her private side, only the official one. The one we all have to keep up for appearance’s sake. But one doesn’t resemble the other. Even if he had a crush on her, which I doubt, he had a crush on that perfect outward image she presented, not her true self. And the only thing that’s hurt is his pride, certainly not his heart.”

  “Now you’re an expert on men?” I joked. Part of me thought Anna was right but Danilo’s strong emotional reaction to losing Fina worried me.

  “I’m an expert on the rules in our world. Danilo wanted Fina for her status and image, nothing else.”

  “But doesn’t that make things even worse? How can I compete with a perfect image? Fina’s larger than life now that she’s gone. I can’t fill in her shoes.”

  “Then don’t. Don’t try to replace her. Be yourself because that’s enough.”

  “But I am her replacement, at least for Danilo,” I hissed, my frustration rearing its ugly head.

  Anna grimaced. “Forget about him for now. He’ll get over her. By the time the two of you get married, he’ll have forgotten about her.”

  I nodded, but I wasn’t convinced. He obviously had some obsessive issues to work through. I touched my hair uncertainly. “Does it look so bad?”

  “No, of course not. You look absolutely gorgeous, but you were just as gorgeous with your brown hair.”

  “But you looked horrified when you first saw me.”

  “Of course. Because I know why you did it. And that’s the problem. Now that you’re blonde, people will compare you even more with Fina because you gave them an opening and a reminder.”

  “I didn’t see it like that. Maybe I should change it back?”

  Anna considered that. “If you change it back right away, it might look as if you have something to hide. Knowing your hairdresser, your new hairstyle is probably already making the rounds in our circle.”

  Anna had a point. Most women from our world went to the same hair salon, and gossip was their main occupation. “Then I’ll keep it for a while.”

  Anna searched my face. “Are you sure you can deal with all the backlash? People will ask questions. You’ll have to present your new hair with confidence, or people will attack even more.”

  I’d never considered myself to be lacking
confidence, but things had shifted since Fina’s kidnapping. I’d felt like a bystander. “I’m just so tired of always being in the shadows. I thought if I looked more like Fina, people would finally see me.”

  “Trust me, being in the spotlight isn’t all it’s made out to be. If I could choose, I’d rather be someone people didn’t watch all the time. If you’re in the light, your flaws are so much more prominent, and everyone is looking for them. Everyone is waiting for a mishap. The moment I’m surrounded by people who aren’t close family, I’m not even me anymore. I’m this perfect public version everyone expects me to be. I’m public Anna, and it’s incredibly stressful to be her. So, be happy about your place in the shadows until it lasts because once you’re married to Danilo, everyone will watch your every move.” Anna took a deep breath then grimaced. “Sorry, this wasn’t meant to become a pity party for me.”

  “Why not? I’ve been celebrating my own pity party excessively.” Even I was starting to grow tired of the Fina topic, but Anna was a real trooper and never complained.

  We grinned at each other. Then Anna became serious again. “Just promise me that you don’t change your personality for Danilo or anyone. You are who you are, and that’s perfect.”

  I hugged her, wishing I could have Anna’s strength, but maybe I’d just discover my own. “I won’t.”

  The reaction to my new look ranged from open shock to exuberant praise. I lost count of the times I got told that I looked exactly like Serafina. It was always meant as a compliment, as if she was the ultimate goal, and while it was what I’d thought I wanted, it only annoyed me. Maybe I’d secretly hoped everyone would tell me how pretty I’d been before and boost my ego, instead they crushed it. But that was my own fault.

  I hoped Danilo’s reaction would at least make this ordeal worthwhile. Maybe seeing me as a blonde would finally turn the switch that would make him fall in love with me. It was a farfetched hope, and I wasn’t even sure if it was the triumph I should be hoping for. Would I really be happy if he suddenly fawned over me because of my blonde hair?

  I only had to wait two more months until I’d finally find out. Two more months before our official engagement party. My heart fluttered at the thought.

  I arrived in Minneapolis two days before the engagement party. I would have preferred to wait another year to make it official. At sixteen, Sofia was still too young, at least compared to me, but her parents insisted we make it public to prevent unpleasant rumors.

  Emma, Mom, and Marco accompanied me. More than fifty guests would attend the engagement—close family and friends, as well as the other Underbosses and their families.

  I met with Samuel and Pietro in their office. We had plenty to discuss, particularly regarding Samuel’s engagement to my sister, who still didn’t know about the deal I’d struck with the Miones or her future husband. But as always, business came first.

  “I think we should convince Dante to risk another attack on Kansas City. Stefano Russo needs to follow his father’s footsteps into an early grave,” I said after we’d settled in the comfortable leather chairs in Pietro’s office, a glass of bourbon in hand.

  Samuel nodded immediately, which didn’t come as a surprise. Pietro looked more thoughtful. Maybe it was his age or his more restrained disposition, but his reaction wasn’t unexpected. If Samuel were already Underboss, I’d have Minneapolis’s support in the matter.

  “I’ve thought the same,” Samuel said. “We’ve been lying too low for too long.”

  Pietro swirled his drink in the tumbler, his eyes narrowed in thought. “Dante’s following a new strategy. Our businesses have been thriving these last couple of years because we weren’t wasting money and energy in useless battles with the Famiglia and Camorra.”

  “It’s not all about business,” I growled. “It’s also about honor and pride. Schmoozing with politicians is a nice trick on Dante’s part to make us untouchable, but we need to make a bloody statement now and then. Our men don’t understand the political strategies. They want blood and grand gestures. We have to keep them happy as well.”

  “It would certainly please them, but I get the feeling it would please you even more,” Pietro said.

  I took another swig from my drink, biting back a comment. Pietro was right. Since we had to let Remo go, I felt the need to erase this feeling of unfinished business.

  “Fuck, it would please all of us to fuck the Camorra over,” Samuel snapped.

  Pietro didn’t deny it. “We have to think of the future. The two of you have to think about the future. Don’t let the past drag you down, no matter how messed up it was. We tried our hand at revenge and failed. We’ve got to move on and ensure the Outfit’s business keeps growing.”

  Samuel and I exchanged a look. We certainly didn’t want to move on, but I doubted Samuel would go against his father.

  “Perhaps we should change the subject. After all, you’re here for a far more pleasant occasion,” Pietro said.

  “Indeed. Speaking of engagements, I intend to tell my sister that you are going to marry her while we’re here,” I told Samuel. “That way we can pretend the agreement was made now.”

  Pietro nodded. “That sounds reasonable. Nobody will link it to the arrangement between you and Sofia.”

  Samuel remained silent. He looked less than thrilled about the prospect of making anything official with my sister. “You gave your word,” I growled.

  He smirked. “I’ll marry your sister, don’t worry.”

  As usual, our mutual understanding ended the moment either Sofia or Emma were mentioned.

  “Good. Are you going to talk to her after I tell her?”

  “Of course. Do you have any preferred lies I should tell her?”

  My anger rose quickly. “The same lies I’ll be telling Sofia.”

  “That’s enough,” Pietro said before turning to me. “Maybe you should have a word with Sofia. It’s been a while since you saw her.”

  I forced a smile and excused myself to go in search of my future wife. I hadn’t seen her in more than a year. Emma’s laughter rang out, followed by Sofia’s. It wasn’t a little girl’s laughter as I remembered, but still held the bell-like quality of her voice. I followed the sounds toward a library and froze in the doorway. A blonde girl stood by the window, long legs peeking out of a summer dress that accentuated a narrow waist. It took me a couple of heartbeats to realize the girl was Sofia. With the blonde hair and her face in profile, her resemblance to Serafina was striking and unexpectedly unpleasant. I hadn’t seen my ex-fiancée in many years and had absolutely no intention of changing that.

  I stalked into the library, trying to control my rising anger and confusion. The latter in particular set my teeth on edge.

  Sofia’s eyes widened and a hesitant smile brightened her face.

  “Emma, can you give us a moment? I need to talk to Sofia alone.” My words were clipped.

  Emma nodded and wheeled out of the room, closing the door after her.

  I backed Sofia up against the wall, completely taken aback by her appearance. I hadn’t seen Serafina in years and now Sofia played her doppelgänger. None of the blonde girls I’d fucked over the years had come even close to looking like my ex-fiancée and here stood my fiancée, looking like a fucking replica of her sister.

  I towered over Sofia, staring down at her pale, confused face. “What have you done to your hair?” I growled. I touched her blonde strands, then cupped her face to force her to look me in the eyes. She blinked, pink lips parted, eyes wide. She had more freckles than her sister and her lower lip was plumper. Not to mention she was a bit shorter and more petite.

  My sixteen-year-old fiancée.

  I took a deep breath through my nose, trying to calm my racing pulse. I dropped my hand that was still touching her face and took a step back. I knew I should apologize, but that was out of the question.

  “What have you done to your hair?” I repeated, unable to take my eyes off the golden hue. It wasn’t just any shade
of blonde, it was Serafina’s.

  She jutted her chin out. “I wanted a change.”

  “You look like a bad copy of your sister. Do you want people to badmouth your family again because of what happened?”

  “I–I didn’t mean it like that.”

  I shook my head. “People will talk at the party if you show up with blonde hair. About you, about me, about our families. I won’t have it. You’ll get your old color back before the party, understood?”

  Sofia had Serafina’s eyes. The same cool blue. And if one didn’t look too closely, even their faces were very much alike. It felt as if the past was meant to repeat itself, as if fate was taunting me with my biggest failure. I’d lost one girl, but I wouldn’t lose another. And I definitely didn’t need a daily reminder of the most shameful day in my life.

  I’d been fucking blonde girl after blonde girl for years, as if I could fuck her out of my system. It never worked. Any reprieve I felt was short-lived before my anger burned only brighter.

  I was frozen in shock as I stared up into Danilo’s angry face.

  I’d been nervous about his reaction to my new hair, but it had been more of a nervous giddiness. I’d secretly been hoping that he’d be delighted to see the similarities between Serafina and me. I hadn’t expected his fury.

  He made it sound as if I’d committed blasphemy by looking like my sister, as if I was sullying the perfect image of her that he probably still harbored in his mind.

  “Understood,” I said through clenched teeth, even as my throat closed up in a mixture of shame and frustration.

  Some of the anger dissipated from his face, and he took another step back, clearing his throat. He was becoming the gentleman I’d only ever encountered so far. “Good,” he said quietly.

  I stayed pressed to the wall. He ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t have to be scared of me. I’m . . .” He regarded me for a few heartbeats, his mouth set into a tight line.