Vito’s POV
I don't know when it started, this constant state of war between us. We were like two celestial bodies caught in a failing orbit, destined to collide or drift into the void. I wanted to sit her down, to actually talk without the shouting, without the accusations. I wanted to tell her that I saw her effort, that I noticed how hard she was trying to fit into a world that was never meant for her. I wanted to admit that my anger was just a mask for the jealousy that gnawed at me whenever David's name was mentioned.
But every time I opened my mouth to offer a bridge, my pride turned the words into a blade. Why is it so hard to just be kind to her?
My phone buzzed, the vibration jarring in the quiet room. Maria.
"Vito?" Her voice was a broken whisper, interrupted by a sharp, hitch
