Page 14

Each passing second wore down Libby’s resolve, but just as she was on the verge of breaking under the psychological attack of her silence, Libby turned the unease into a whetstone and sharpened.

“Mima, I understand if you’re upset—”

“Upset?” she echoed without looking away from the window. “Why would I be upset?” Her words dripped with such sarcasm, pure acid poured down Libby’s throat.

&

nbsp; “Please, you don’t have to—”

The elder Cassanova whirled around, her dark green eyes wide and angry. Libby gripped the edge of her desk. “Do you think it was easy for me to step down and hand this over?”

Libby’s ears rang as her heart hammered in her chest so violently it was hard to breathe. She didn’t answer the question, not just because it was rhetorical, but because she wasn’t sure any sound would come out if she opened her mouth.

“Is it too much to ask that I at least know the person I’m entrusting my life’s work to?” she asked more gently as she dropped into the small sofa near the plate glass windows.

“That I know my own flesh and blood?” She grabbed the satin fabric of her blouse as if wanting to crush her own heart.

Libby furrowed her brow, unwilling to believe her grandmother was saying what she thought she was saying.

Her grandmother was intolerant in so many ways, but not about any people as a group. She disliked people on a case-by-case basis if they failed to meet her insanely high standards.

“How do you think this makes us look, hmm? Not just our name that has developed invaluable goodwill for generations, but us on a personal level. How am I to be considered a person of integrity, when I didn’t know my own grandchild, my successor, my pride and joy is…”

“Is what, Mima?” Libby demanded, clenching her jaw as she crossed the room to sit in the armchair across from her.

To look her dead in the eye and challenge her to finish. “In love with a woman?”

Her grandmother cocked her head slowly to one side like a masked villain in a slasher film about to strike. When her lip curled, Libby held her breath.

“You think I’m angry because you’re in a relationship with a woman?” she asked, at once o ended and disgusted.

Libby leaned back in surprise. “Aren’t you?”

The way her grandmother closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as she leaned into the backrest made it obvious that not only was she incorrect, her grandmother thought she was an idiot.

“Mija.” She paused before looking at her with tired but kinder eyes. “I don’t care who you love. If I have taught you anything, it is that life is fleeting and one of the only true joys is the love and family we find in a soulmate. How could you believe that something as insignificant as gender could invalidate that?”

Her question robbed Libby of her ability to think, much less speak. They stared at each other, unmoving, for so long, Libby lost the feeling in her extremities.

“Come.” Her grandmother patted the sofa cushion next to her. “Sit with me.”

Libby obeyed and was relieved at the hand cupping her cheek. “Can you imagine how painful it is not to know that you’ve not only su ered through a broken engagement alone, but that you’ve found a new partner and not told me?

That I had to find out from the scandalized old gossips at the Rotary Club. It was humiliating not having any clue what they were talking about until Juana showed me on her stupid smartphone.”

With each word, Libby shrunk further into her seat. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Mima.”

“Why did you keep this from me?” she asked in a soft tone she’d never heard her grandmother use before. There was hurt behind her words.

“I was afraid,” Libby replied honestly. “Afraid that you wouldn’t trust me if you knew about Davis and me splitting up. That you’d think I was a loser in love and unfit to match anybody.”

Her grandmother’s face contorted into a frown. “You, my treasure, are no loser. Davis was a moron. I told you he wasn’t right for you from the beginning.”

Libby dared a lopsided smile. “Can you imagine why I wasn’t so eager to tell you he was in fact the douche you predicted?”

“I’m never wrong about these things,” she replied, the ghost of a smile twitching at her thin lips. “But, for once, I am sorry I was right. I don’t want any heartache for you, mija.”

“I do regret not being honest with you,” Libby confessed.