Page 3 of Love or Leave (Mapleton #4)

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A ntonio Santori pulled into the dimly lit parking lot of his apartment building. He killed the engine and dashed out of his car, making a beeline for the door.

His sister Maria was going to kill him for being so late, but there was no way he could show up to his niece's unicorn birthday party as is—in dirty scrubs with no gift.

He jogged to the front door, scanned his key and entered. He pulled up short when he came face to face with his neighbour, Sara. Her surprise at his sudden appearance vanished in a flash, instantly replaced by a sad scowl.

He lifted an awkward hand in a wave. "Hi—"

Sara snapped away from him and marched off down the hall, refusing to let him finish.

Honestly, he deserved worse. She would have been completely justified in chewing him out—or even slapping him, for that matter. He would have preferred it to the silent treatment.

He let remorse flow over him as he pulled the mail from his box and made his way down the narrow hall toward his door, doing his best to ignore the rancid stench wafting from one neighbour's unit and the blast of screaming metal coming from the other.

Sara was a beautiful girl. She was also smart and sweet, with a good head on her shoulders. Antonio couldn't help but be attracted to her when he first moved into the building. Especially when she'd started flirting with him at the lowest point in his life.

Then Fran showed up.

Shaking off the memory, he thumbed through the mail as he unlocked his door. He pushed into his depressingly cramped studio apartment when he saw it.

A letter from his wife's lawyer.

He stopped halfway through the door’s threshold and swallowed the nausea bubbling in his throat. She was actually going through with it.

His marriage was over.

He was on the verge of being the divorced guy.

He dropped his bag and stepped the rest of the way inside, letting the heavy metal door slam shut behind him. He took the three steps to the giant pull-out sofa that took up most of the three-hundred square foot living space and collapsed on its edge.

What a fucking disaster.

He couldn't bring himself to ripping the envelope open and reading it. Instead, he tossed it onto the coffee table currently doubling as a nightstand and dining table, and buried it under the rest of the mail, as if pretending it didn't exist would make it so.

He glanced around the room, painfully aware of the fact that if he hadn't let his marriage fall apart, he'd still be in the home he bought with Fran, and he'd only be a few doors down from his sister and his parents.

Instead, he had failed, and now his wife—well, soon-to-be ex-wife—whom he'd never wanted to divorce, lived in the house his grandparents had gifted the down payment for, and he was alone in what could only be described as a hellhole.

The only upside to the situation was that he wasn't still living at his parents' house.

That was where he'd first gone after moving out the house, and he'd never been so miserable. But he couldn't really blame his parents for being disappointed in him. He'd made a complete fucking mess of his life.

The only person he could blame was himself. Especially since Fran had come to him crying and begging to get back together, and he'd let his hurt ego stop him from giving them another shot.

It was the biggest mistake he'd made in his life.

He shook off the intrusive thoughts and stood, pulling his dirty clothes off and tossing them into the hamper next to the fridge, then took another three steps to the tiny bathroom.

He had to get out of that place, but every time he thought about moving, he just wished he could go back to his home and make things work with Fran.

He'd poured countless hours and money into fixing up that house to make it theirs—new floors, new kitchen. His father helped him re-tile the bathroom and build the deck in the back. It was his home.

So was Fran.

They'd been together so long that his family didn't even know how to react when he attended family events alone. He'd always wanted to marry Fran, have kids with her, grow old in that house together with her.

And he'd let a stupid little dip in their relationship ruin it all.

If he could travel back in time, he'd have gone to therapy with her when she first mentioned not being happy.

He'd have told her they had something worth fighting for when she'd told him she wanted a divorce.

And he never would have been so stubborn after the Sara situation when she'd had second thoughts.

He turned on the shower and stepped into the cold, weak spray of water. He had to fix this.

If he couldn't make it work with Fran, he couldn’t make it work with anyone.

After showering and dressing quickly, he grabbed Sophie's gift and rushed out the door. He knew what needed to be done. He just hoped his mom and sister wouldn't lose their shit when he asked for their help.

Antonio arrived at his sister's house an hour late. He fought the urge to rush in and rang the doorbell instead. Maria's house was as much of a second home to him as his parents' house, but the last time he spoke with her, Maria mentioned how much Sophie loved answering the door.

It didn't take long to hear Sophie’s little feet pattering on the hardwood floor, getting louder and louder as she got closer to the door. When she opened the door, her sparkly brown eyes lit up.

"Zio!"

Antonio’s heart melted and he bent and picked her up, balancing her in one arm and her giant present in the other.

"Happy Birthday, Soph," he said. "Sorry I'm late."

She wiggled in his arms, reaching for the present, completely ignoring his apology. It seemed that showing up with a present was enough of an apology.

"What's in it?"

"A dinosaur robot with guns instead of feet." Antonio squatted down and placed her on the floor before passing the giant pink box over to her.

She turned her nose up.

He laughed and shook his head. "Go open it and see."

She took off running with the gift. Antonio closed the door and took off his shoes and coat. Before he could take a step, his sister appeared from the kitchen, holding two gigantic glasses of red wine.

"You're going to need this," she said, passing him one of the glasses and then giving him a hug.

"Why?"

She glanced at him like he was a fool. "Mom, obviously."

Antonio took a drink of the wine. "That bad?"

"Tonio! Is that finally you?"

Maria cringed at their mother's voice reverberating down the hall, then lunged toward the door. Antonio grabbed her by the elbow.

"You can't bail on your own party," he said with a snort.

"Watch me," she said.

He laughed and forced her down the hallway toward the kitchen, where he knew his mother was presiding over the party from the dining table.

"Is it because of the anniversary party?" he asked in a whisper.

Maria nodded, then plastered on a fake smile and turned into the kitchen. Antonio suppressed a laugh and followed.

"Sorry I'm late," he said as he entered. He moved toward his mother and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then sat beside her.

"You missed all the planning," she said in her disapproving tone.

"Sorry. Where's Dad?"

His mom impatiently waved at the door. "He got tired again and had to leave."

Antonio glanced at Maria, who smirked behind her glass of wine before taking another drink.

Their dad was always “tired” these days.

When his mother had insisted his father get checked out for being so tired all the time, he had asked Antonio if doctor–patient confidentiality worked between family members.

When Antonio assured him it did, he confessed the only thing he was tired of was his wife.

Antonio told his dad to come up with better excuses other than being tired, if he wanted to duck out for some peace every once in a while, but he apparently didn't follow doctor's orders.

"Actually, I'd love to help plan the party," Antonio said.

Maria set down a platter of antipasti on the table before sinking into the seat opposite him. "It's all done. Right down to the same colour-candied almonds they had at their wedding that took me a million phone calls to find…" she trailed off, annoyed, earning herself a scowl from their mom.

Maria had told Antonio how much she hated the fuss their mother was making over being married so long, especially since their parents had been down-right miserable most of that time.

"You know, Maria," their mom said, staring daggers across the table. "Marriage is a holy sacrament. And some people respect that sacrament."

Maria threw her hands in the air. "I'm married, Mom," she said in an exasperated tone.

" You are…" she said, trailing off with a pointed look toward Antonio.

And there it was.

All of his mother's disappointment wrapped up in two words and one look.

The annoying thing was that he felt the same way as his mom. When he'd said “I do” to Fran, he'd meant it. He'd fully expected them to grow old and die together. What he hadn't expected was for her to fall out of love with him.

But then again, he'd been working eighty hours a week and barely saw her for all the years he was in med school and residency. Still, she knew he'd be going through all that when they'd gotten married.

Maybe they had just been too young.

That was the best explanation he had. Fran had blindsided him when she'd said she wanted a divorce.

He'd finally felt as if the difficult times were behind them.

They'd talked about taking a trip to Europe and starting a family and renovating their home, and next thing he knew, he was packing up his half his shit and moving out.

"Enough," Maria said, slapping her hand on the table and pulling him from his inner turmoil. "This is a birthday party, not judgment day."

His mother rolled her eyes as Antonio reached for his wine and took a deep drink.

He cleared his throat. "Actually, I was hoping to see Fran this weekend."

His mother sat up and so did her dark eyebrows. She glanced at him with cautious optimism on her face. "What?"

He braced himself and squared his shoulders. "I want you to send her an invitation to the party."

The second the words were out, his mother and sister both shot out of their seats.

"Thank God!" his mother said at the same time Maria yelled, "Hell no!"

Antonio pulled back from the table at the very loud response. He expected their reactions.

"I'll send it now," his mom said, pushing her chair out and backing away from the table.

She'd taken a single step before Maria nearly tackled her. "Not a chance, Mom," she said before turning to him. "Why, Tone?"

He took a deep breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. His stomach was in knots. "I want my life back."

"I know but—"

"I got the papers today," he said, the words heavy.

Maria went quiet.

"Fran wanted to get back together a few months ago, and I said no. But I've changed my mind. I'm not signing the papers."

Maria shook her head in disbelief. "You've been so miserable. How can you forgive her for this?"

Antonio expected Maria's disapproval, so her reaction didn't surprise him. In fact, he was pretty certain what she was thinking was a lot worse than what she was saying. But he'd already thought this through, and he knew the people in his family would think he was Fran's doormat.

He didn't care. He desperately wanted to put this whole mess behind him and move on.

When Maria realized he'd already made up his mind, she turned her piercing gaze at their mom. "You're actually okay with this?"

"She's my daughter-in-law, and her parents will be there, of course.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Why shouldn't she come?"

Maria let out a silent scream. "Because she broke Tonio's heart, for starters."

"My heart is fine,” Antonio said. “I want her back."

His mom pulled Maria's hand from hers and started toward the door. "Good," she said, smiling widely. "I'll go get an invitation now and deliver it to her myself," she said.

She'd made it almost to the door when she stopped and turned. "Maria, change the seating plan so Tonio is sitting with his wife for dinner."

Maria's jaw hit the floor as she watched their mother walk out the front door, but Antonio was feeling lighter than air.

His house was only a few doors down from Maria’s and their parents’. Hopefully Fran was home and would be excited to get the invitation—hopefully she would understand this was a way for them to get together and reconcile.

Hopefully she'd accept.

"This is going to be a fucking nightmare."

Antonio rolled his eyes at Maria’s warning as the tightness in his chest eased. This wasn’t going to be a nightmare. This was going to be a new beginning.

Now he'd just have to hope and pray that Fran would give them another chance. They could go to therapy and start being honest with each other about where they went wrong, so he could fix it, and they could move on.

"This is a good thing," he said, standing from the table and squeezing his sister's shoulder. "Be happy for me."

Maria closed her eyes and sighed, then gave him a fake smile.

"That the spirit," Antonio said with a grin, then made his way to the living room to focus on his niece and her birthday party.

But after saying hi to his two younger sisters, their boyfriends, and his brother-in-law, who was on the floor playing a game with Sophie, he fell into introspection again. It was hard not to feel hopeful that Fran would come to the event.

He wanted so badly for this to be the beginning of the end.