My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 480

Chapter 480

He smiled faintly before looking back toward Mom.

“They got more of her than me,” he said. “Thank God for that.”

A small smile touched his mouth before fading

“I was a different man back then. I loved Isabella, but we were terrible for each other. Too young, Too proud. The angry,” ” his eyes drifted toward the floor, “We spent years hurting each other. Every time she cut me, I made wire to cut deeper. Every time I crossed a line, she’d cross one right back. For a long time, I thought that was when lo looked like.”

His jaw tightened slightly.

“Then years later, I watched my son, Vincenzo fall in love with Claire. I watched him fight for her, protect her, and respect her. My Vincenzo made me a better man… for Hazel,”

I listened quietly.

“I spent years earning that woman. She didn’t marry me because she was scared. She didn’t marry me because she was dying, Gianna… She married me because somewhere along the way…” A small smile appeared on his face,” she fell in love with me too.”

“How do you know?” I asked quietly.

That finally made him look at me.

His eyes softened immediately, “Because every morning she reaches for me before she even opens her eyes. Half the time she’s still asleep. When she’s scared, she comes to me. When something good happens, she tells me first.

He swallowed. The movement caught my attention because it was the first real crack I’d seen in him all night. The first sign that this was hurting him too, really hurting him.

“And when she found out she was dying…” he said quietly, “…the person she wanted beside her was me.”

My eyes burned again.

Salvatore looked down at his hands for a second, then he smiled, “And because she calls me her best friend”

Something twisted painfully inside my chest.

Best friend.

For one stupid second, another voice pushed into my head.

Raphael’s.

You’re my best friend, Gianna.

The memory hit so fast it almost knocked the air out of me. I could practically hear him saying it, see the way he looked at me, the way he smiled, the way he always made me feel safe.

My throat tightened then I shoved the thought away so hard it almost hurt.

No.

My throat burned. Salvatore rubbed one hand across his face.

“I spent years working, building things and now I’d trade every dollar I own for another twenty years with her. Nothing matters in the end.”

Neither of us spoke for a while.

“You’re a lot like her.”

A laugh escaped me, “No, I’m not.”

“You are, you are stubborn, terrible temper and big heart,” Salvatore nodded once, “Exactly like her.”

Fresh tears slid down my cheeks, I looked away and then Salvatore reached over and squeezed my shoulder.

“You don’t have to go through this alone.”

The walk to my room felt longer than usual.

Somewhere downstairs a door closed. I heard distant voices. A television. Footsteps.

Life.

The world kept moving which felt offensive somehow because my mother was dying. The thought kept crashing into me over and over again.