Page 33 of Love or Leave (Mapleton #4)

twenty-eight

A ntonio climbed the steps to his old house and waited on the covered porch as Fran punched a code into the pad above the door handle. The keypad hadn't been there when it was his home. He wondered how long she waited after he left to change the locks.

He remembered receiving the house keys for the first time, and the feel of Fran in his arms as he carried her across the threshold. There was so much happiness then. And hope. He never imagined his future would be like this.

Fran pushed open the door and stepped inside, holding it open for him with a smile.

He'd only taken a single step inside before the nausea hit.

The house was fully decorated for Christmas and smelled like the cranberry candles she loved. The first thing that caught his eye was the angel on top of the tree.

He'd given it to her for their first Christmas together. It had been so expensive he had to split it between two credit cards.

He glanced around the house—at the furniture, fireplace, photos—and waited for the nostalgia and comfort to come rushing back. But none of it did. It was as if a dark, evil curse had marred everything he once loved, like his own personal Chernobyl.

Antonio sucked in a deep breath, but his airway was closing.

"I'll make you an espresso," Fran said, trying to sidestep behind him to close the door against the cold wind.

He backed up, shaking his head. There was no way he was going to get trapped in there.

"I don't want one."

The mental anguish left him too exhausted to be polite.

Fran glanced around. "Do you want to sit on the porch—"

Antonio nodded and turned, walking back out the front door and dropping onto a varnished Adirondack chair. The chair wanted to force him to relax, but he couldn’t. He sat awkwardly at its edge with his back uncomfortably bent forward and his elbows on his knees.

Rain fell in cold, icy sheets, and the broken corner of the eavestrough he’d never gotten around to fixing sent a steady gush of water pouring off the porch roof into the soaked grass below.

Fran followed his lead and sat down opposite him. "I guess I can take it you don't want to move back, considering you can't even stand inside for five minutes."

Antonio shook his head.

"Is it because of Blake? Because he was here?"

"No," he said, scrubbing both hands up and down his face. "I forgot all about that, actually. Is that why you want to get back together?"

Fran's eyes welled up, and she looked away from him, toward the street. She'd always tried to hide her tears from him.

"I don't know, maybe," she said, her voice distant and broken. "Maybe I made a mistake breaking us up, like you said."

Antonio huffed an exhausted breath, but as it escaped, it became a laugh. He was completely flabbergasted. How was this actually happening?

Fran screwed her eyes shut. "How can you laugh right now?"

"Because this is so fucked," he said, trying to pull his emotions in, "it's hard not to see the humor in it."

Fran sniffed and pulled her sweater around her neck. "I don't find anything funny about this."

"I'm not surprised," he said, assessing her. "We never saw eye to eye, did we?"

Fran looked down at her toes. "That's not true. We have a lot in common. Our families are best friends, same traditions, same cultures. We're attracted to each other."

Antonio stared at her, waiting. "Right. And that's where it ends."

Fran sat back in her seat and crossed her hands in her lap.

"How could we have expected to be happy for sixty years based on that?" Antonio asked. Everything finally made sense. "Staying together means too many sacrifices… for both of us."

"I think I'm ready for the things you want," she said in a small voice. "To start a family."

The words were like a net falling over him, trapping him inside. They were the exact words he'd been longing to hear from the moment he finished his residency.

But the last few weeks had really highlighted all the problems beyond just that. Having a child together would only make things worse. He honestly believed they'd both dodged a huge, ugly, destructive bullet.

"We should never have a baby together."

"Why?" Fran asked.

Antonio's mind immediately landed on Cara, and just the thought of her made his shoulders relax. Being around her felt right, everything clicked into place. He knew that they were right for each other. They would see eye to eye on things that he and Fran would never.

"I'm a square peg and you're a round hole. We just don't work," he said, looking back at her. "Do you really think you made a mistake, Fran?"

"I thought I was doing the right thing, but now I'm not sure."

Antonio nodded. "I had myself convinced that we were perfect for each other, but I don't think that anymore. On the surface, it seems good. But in real life, it's exhausting."

Fran sniffed. "This would be a lot easier if you were a drunk like my sister’s ex."

Antonio nodded. "That's probably why it’s been so hard. There was never one big issue that made divorce feel justified. But you were right to end it. Neither of us wants to spend the rest of our lives unhappy."

Fran looked out across the front lawn and shook her head.

"I'm sorry I wouldn't let go," he said.

"I'm sorry, too, Tonio."

He nodded and glanced behind him at the front door. It was time to really let go of everything. This was over.

"You should sell the house."

Fran's eyes shot up. "Sell it?"

Antonio nodded.

"Do you want to buy it?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I need closure for this part of my life, to move on."

"Move on with Cara?"

His throat closed. "I hope so."

What if she was really done? What if Max never spoke to him again?

Fran raised one eyebrow. "Did you really start dating her without signing your divorce papers?"

Antonio cringed. "Yes. And that was only one of many missteps," he said, standing from the hard chair.

Fran stood, too. "She seems to really love you. I'm sure you'll work it out."

"I hope so."

Fran turned toward the steps. "Come on. I'll drive you back to your apartment."

"No," he said, looking down the street toward Maria's house, then beyond to his parents' house.

"I'm going to walk over to Maria's and talk to her. And Mom."

Fran recoiled. "That's going to be fun."

Antonio snorted. "Just think, you'll never have to see them again."

She looked up at the sky and mouthed a thank you. "Sign the papers, Tone."

Antonio nodded and stepped off the porch into the icy rain.