Chapter 7
Mara asked to speak with Evan.
He said no.
She asked again.
No.
Then she sent the engagement ring.
The same one she had thrown beside his hand.
He stared at it for a long time.
I asked:
“What do you want to do with it?”
He shrugged.
“Throw it away.”
“Then do that.”
He looked at me.
“You don’t want to keep it as evidence?”
“Of what?”
“That she’s awful.”
I almost smiled.
“I remember.”
He laughed.
First real laugh since the gallery.
Then his face changed.
“I still love her.”
“I know.”
“You don’t hate me for that?”
“No.”
He looked surprised.
Important.
People who control others teach them that love becomes guilt after betrayal.
It doesn’t have to.
“You can love someone and never let them near you again.”
Evan nodded slowly.
Then:
“I don’t know which one I want.”
“Good.”
He frowned.
“Good?”
“You’re finally not letting anyone choose the answer for you.”
That irritated him.
Useful.
Later he asked about the council seat.
“I don’t want it.”
I stared.
He had spent years sitting there.
“You sure?”
“No.”
Better answer.
He explained.
After the accident, he returned because Dad expected it.
After Dad died, he stayed because I expected it.
Then Mara told him leaving meant weakness.
Carlo told him staying meant pity.
Every option belonged to someone else’s interpretation.
“I don’t even know whether I like the council.”
I laughed.
“Nobody likes council.”
“You do.”
“No. I like winning arguments.”
He smiled.
Then became serious.
“I want time.”
“Take it.”
“No consequences?”
“For thinking?”
He shrugged.
Again.
The fact he expected punishment for uncertainty told me how deeply the old Bellini culture had shaped him.
Not just Mara.
Us.
That part was mine.
May you like
I had defended Evan from people outside.
I had not noticed how often our own family made usefulness the price of belonging.
