Page 28 of The Criminal’s Cure
“Okay, well now that I’ve aired all my dirty laundry, why don’t you tell me about your family? I already know your dad is a prick. What about everybody else?”
A small laugh escapes my lips. “He’s not that bad. You caught me on a bad day.”
Roman narrows his eyes at me. “He passed you over for a spot you desperately wanted and gave it to your brothers, even though you were more qualified just because you’re a woman.”
“My brothers are qualified too…”
It’s not even worth defending, because Roman is exactly right.
Not only do I want it more than either of my brothers, I am much more qualified.
I had better grades, scored higher on every test, and went out of my way to take internships and classes solely for how the experience would help me as a trauma surgeon.
I even spent a couple of summers riding around in ambulances and observing EMTs.
Everything I ever did was to position myself better, but that never mattered.
“I’m sure they are, but I’ve never met anyone as passionate about what they do as you. And I’ve seen you work. Not only are you an incredible doctor, but you’re calm under pressure and you make your patients feel comfortable. A lot of doctors can’t do that.”
“Thank you.” His compliment makes me blush.
Roman takes my hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “Don’t sell yourself short just because your family does. And don’t expect me to bite my tongue about it when I meet them, either.”
“ When you meet them?” I raise an eyebrow at him. As hard as he tries, Roman really only knows one speed, and he’s all in on this. It should worry me, but for some reason I don’t mind. After not knowing where we stood for so long, there isn’t any doubt in my mind now.
“Yes, when I meet your family, they better be nothing but respectful to you. No one gets a pass. Especially not blood.” There’s just enough of a menacing look in his eye that I can’t tell if he’s kidding with me.
After getting heavy so quickly, the mood lightens for the rest of dinner.
Talk of childhood memories and hobbies fill our conversation until dessert arrives, but we’re both so full that we can hardly take a bite.
It’s hard to resist a slice of chocolate cheesecake that’s bigger than my head, though, and we get a box so we can have it at home.
“Thank you for tonight,” I say, as Roman signs the check. “Everything has been so incredible.”
“I’m glad you’ve had a good time.” His knee brushes against mine underneath the table, but he’s not in any rush to move it. “I’m a little out of practice with this whole dating thing, so I was nervous.”
“Somehow, I find that hard to believe. You have every woman in this building fawning over you, and you expect me to believe planning a date made you nervous?”
Roman could have his pick of the women here—any of the women in the entire city—and he is irresistibly charming when he lets himself be. And he knocks this date out of the park. There is no way he’s as out of practice as he claims to be.
He chuckles, finishing the rest of his wine before pouring each of us a little more.
I should have put a limit on myself tonight because the more we drink, the more I feel myself falling for him hook, line, and sinker.
“I’m serious. I haven’t been on a proper date in…
God, I don’t even know how long. Maybe ever. ”
“Okay, now I know you’re lying.” I click my tongue.
“I’m not,” he says. “I honestly can’t remember a single time that I went on a real date with a woman.”
“Well, you must have taken Talia out.”
He shakes his head. “Talia and I…Our relationship wasn’t…traditional.”
“What do you mean?”
He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, scratching his chin as if he’s searching for the right words. “We…were arranged.”
“You had an arranged marriage?” My eyes nearly bulge out of my head.
“Yeah, it’s kind of common in the Mafia.
” Roman talks about it so nonchalantly that I almost think he’s kidding, but then he continues.
“I was seventeen when my parents told me I had to marry Talia. Her dad was a powerful businessman before he passed, and our parents thought a union would strengthen everybody. She and I went out on some dates, but at that point, we already knew we were getting married, so it kind of lost its effect.”
“And you went along with it?” Nobody makes him do anything he doesn’t want to do, so this part surprises me most of all.
He shrugs. “If it wasn’t Talia, it would’ve been someone else, and in the scheme of things, it could’ve been a lot worse. Talia and I grew up together; she was one of my best friends. I really cared about her.”
“Did you love her?” My stomach twists. In my mind, I painted a picture of Roman as a grieving widow who lost his soulmate, but this changes things a bit.
“As the mother of my son, I did.” He nods. “But I was never in love with Talia. Everything between us served a bigger purpose. A business purpose.”
I’ve got so many questions, and with Roman’s vow to be completely honest, I barely know where to start.
“Does Ty know that?”
“Definitely not. I always treated Talia well, and neither one of us ever brought anyone else we were seeing to the house.”
My face must give my confusion away because Roman quickly explains.
“Like I said, Talia and I were about business, and we both knew that. We were never romantically involved at all. In fact, I think I can count on one hand the number of times we slept together, and that was only when we were trying to get pregnant. So we had an arrangement, and we both saw other people.”
“Wow, it seems like that would make it kind of difficult to date.”
“Date is a strong word. At least for what I did.” Roman shakes his head, reaching for his water. “It was more about a way to get off than an emotional connection.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “I had no idea that arranged marriage existed in real life.”
“That’s right. I forget that you openly admitted all your knowledge about the Mafia came from the Godfather. I guess they omitted that part.”
“They definitely did.” I smile, pressing my lips together. “So you’ve really given up everything for this job. Your life. Your happiness.”
He chuckles. “Sounds familiar?”
In a way, it does. I’ve given up so much of myself to become a trauma surgeon that I almost don’t even know who I am without it anymore, and that’s a scary thought. What if it’s not all I’ve built it up to be once I get the shot? What if I want something different?
I’ve never even considered that before, but lately, I have.
Roman and I have been playing house these last few weeks, and I’m surprised by how much I like it.
And I don’t know if that’s something I can have if I make it as a trauma surgeon.
Plus, from my experience, a lot of trauma surgeons are pretty shitty parents.
My dad was rarely around while I was growing up.
He missed games and recitals and spelling bees and holidays.
And even when he was there, he was always distracted and focused on something else.
To be fair, the job takes so much time and dedication that he didn’t really have a choice if he wanted to be as successful as he is. I guess you don’t become a renowned surgeon who oversees an entire network of hospitals by being a dedicated family man.
The gravity of my relationship with Roman isn’t lost on me. Ty is the most important thing we have to consider in all of this. It’s heavy on its own, but considering the amount of loss and trauma he’s already had, it almost feels suffocating.
I don’t know if I can have both, but I don’t think I’m ready to choose.
“You okay?” Roman squeezes my hand. “It feels like you went somewhere else for a second…”
“I’m good.” I force the thought away for now, because nothing has to happen immediately. We’ve got a good thing going, and there’s no sense in ruining that for a bunch of what ifs. A smile pulls across my face. “Are you ready to head home, or do you have something else up your sleeve?”
“Oh, I have plenty left up my sleeve for tonight, but it can all happen at home.” He grabs my hand and I follow him out to the truck. We’ve been here talking for so long that we’re nearly the last car in the lot.
“You mean like the cheesecake?” I tease.
“Mmm, I have something else entirely planned for dessert.”
Good thing we’re both on the same page there.