Page 181 of Ricardo

I don't like the implication. I narrow my eyes.

“What he believes now is easier than the truth.”

“So you think,” she says.

My jaw clenches.

She does not retreat.

“If Dante knew the truth,” she says, “he would have to live with what his mother did. That is horrible. I understand why you wanted to spare him that. But he would also know what you saved him from.”

“I did not need him grateful.”

“No,” she says. “You needed him protected. But in doing so, you allowed yourself to become the bad guy in the story. You let yourself become the part he could resent.”

The words strike with shocking force.

I turn away.

Julia follows, stopping a few feet behind me.

“He got to be angry at you instead of destroyed by her,” she says. “Because anger is easier than hurt.”

My eyes close.

“Basta.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“You are succeeding anyway.”

“I know.” Her voice shakes now. “But I think you need to hear it.”

I breathe through my nose and keep my back to her.

She continues, quieter.

“And now tonight, he came here furious and heartbroken, and you did the same thing again.”

“He was in pain.”

“He was wrong.”

I turn back sharply.

“He can be in pain and still be wrong,” she says before I can speak. “He can be your son and still be wrong. He can have had a difficult childhood and still be wrong.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you stand there bleeding like you were proving something?”

Anger moves through me, fast and instinctive.

“I was not proving anything.”