Too Late: The Don's Regretful Pursuit

ror, painted in drie

hadn't intended to be there, but Maria needed help shifting a vase,

kin by a dried maroon crust. His lip was split, swollen and purple

lf at him before he eve

w her arms around his neck, burying her face in his ruined shi

't push her away. Instead, he wrapped his bloodied

voice wrecked. "No one touche

nhaling deeply, as if she were th

ll, heads bowed in deference. The Capos behind hi

vase of white l

hey landed on me. For a second, the adrenaline in his ga

s attention back. "You're bleeding ever

murmured.

ed. He just walked up the stairs with his prize, leaving a trail of blood drop

ory. Catalina recounted the story to anyone who would listen,

I kept a laptop hid

FK to LGA. Then a tr

a relationship. I was

ght, a knock sou

e. He was cleaned up, stitches marching across

xpression that used to melt me. No

ome in?"

aid, not looking up from my b

inside. He placed the bo

ng the back of his neck. "I haven't been around much. T

fine,"

ng to sound noble. "I've neglected

to the box

t. Inside, nestled in blac

ith gold thread. It was a traditional belly dancing cos

uff," he said, looking proud of himself. "Tho

g out to touch my cheek. His thumb

le," he murmured, his voice droppi

dress. It was beautif

was an

, my prayer, my art. To him, it was just "weird stuff" I did t

away from

't," I

furrowed.

e cast. "I can barely walk to the bath

f seeing it for the first

for

ing his hand. "When you

," I

of irritation creeping in. "I bought yo

. The pain meds

t fix your attitude. I just won a war for this

ing the expensive dress on the

is footsteps fad

The silk felt like wa

trash can and dr

lled out

rm Boo

Tuesday.

e cast to come off. I w