Page 115 of Easy Out

“Tori wouldn’t move. I called your mom and explained everything. She agreed I should stay. She let me go.” I shake my head. I don’t believe she simply rolled over and let him leave like that.

“When you asked her to move to Alabama, she didn’t want to come?” Guilt blankets his face.

“I never asked.”

“Of course, you didn’t.” Unbelievable. “And when she told you she was pregnant too. What happened then? Enzo and I are only a few months apart. She was pregnant when you left. I guess we weren’t needed anymore now that you had a new family.” I shake my head.

“It hurt when my foster dad left me to start a new family. But you? My blood. That cuts deep.” Morelli jerks his head back.

“Gemma never told me about you. I didn’t know you existed until I came back for work months after you were born. Tori and I weren’t even together during that time. It took us years to become a family again.” I scoff.

“Save your bullshit. Marco is only a year younger than me. You may not have been a couple, but you were obviously sleeping together often enough to add another child to the mix. You were starting a family by the looks of things.

“Meanwhile my mom is working two jobs and doing everything on her own.” The words feel like fire on my tongue. I’m so angry.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to make anything better. Sorry doesn’t change my childhood. Sorry doesn’t bring back my mom. Sorry is pathetic. I don’t want your apologies.”

“What can I do? How can I make this better? I want to be a part of your life. Now that I have you back. I can’t lose you again.” I won’t correct him and tell him he doesn’t have me.

I blow out a breath. I’m not a hateful person. I’ve worked hard to stay positive all these years. I don’t want to hold grudges. It doesn’t help me move forward if I hold on to everything that could have been.

What do I want now? As many mistakes as he’s made, I do want him in my life. “Prove it,” I say. “Prove to me that you want me in your life, and I will let you in mine too.”

“I can do that. Thank you.” We sit silently for a moment drinking our coffees. I should probably get going. I have to meet up with Sydney. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” He can ask. Doesn’t mean I have to answer.

“The short story you submitted for your scholarship. It wasn’t fiction, was it?”

“No. It was my story.”

“And the part about the little girl finding her mom.” His voice trails off. He can’t even finish the sentence.

“True.” Morelli swallows hard and his eyes brim with tears.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

“However bad you think it would be for a little girl to find her mom not breathing in her bed multiply it by a million.”

I’ll never forget the morning I left for school thinking my mom was already at work. Only to come home and find her sleeping permanently in her bed.

“She always left for work before I got up for school. Sometimes our neighbor would come over and help me get ready, but I was pretty grown up for my age.

“I got dressed, made my lunch, and walked out of the apartment to the bus stop. It was the same routine I did every morning. I didn’t think twice about it.” I take a sip of my coffee and wash down all the sadness and guilt.

“That wasn’t even the worst part.” I huff a laugh. “I didn’t get to say goodbye. Once the paramedics and police showed up, that was it. They took my mom in one direction, and I went in the other.” I remember what I told Hart about that day. “And all I wanted was you. But you weren’t there. I didn’t even know you, but it was the idea of you.” That was the gut punch that sends his tears spilling over the edge.

“I remember thinking ‘if only my dad were here’ but you weren’t even real," I whisper. “That night I went to bed in a strange room with nothing but the clothes I could fit in my backpack and two pictures I managed to snag. I had nothing and no one.”

“I wish I could have been there for you Lauren. I really do. You have to understand. I was out-”

“Out of the country. I know. I believe you when you say you hoped things were different. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.” He nods and exhales a deep breath.

We sit quietly for a few minutes finishing our coffees. He gets distracted by someone in line and I take a moment to admire his profile. Hart said I have my mother’s nose.

Looking at Morelli, he’s wrong. I’m Alessandro Morelli’s twin. We have the same nose and chin. While my features are softer and more feminine, there is no denying our similarities.

---