“Not really,” I admitted. “My mom is so much better. She loves it. I just love the memories that come along with it.”
“You seem close to your family,” he commented.
“I am.”
Now more than ever, I thought silently. It was Branka who always silently reminded me that I was a lucky girl to have my parents. The two of us have learned to take what we need from each other. Her relationship with her mother was bittersweet.Tragic, she called it.
She couldn’t be close to someone who wouldn’t protect her when she couldn’t protect herself. From what little Branka has said, her siblings never got what they needed from their parents. She said it damaged Alessio, although she didn’t elaborate.
Her brother.
Alessio never left my fucking heart, no matter how hard I tried to push him out. At this point, he was a reluctant tenant. Part of my every breath and every heartbeat.
My thoughts seemed to often drift away when it came to Alessio. Grief. The cracking of my heart.
“And you?” I attempted to change the subjects, glancing around. Why did I have a feeling like someone was watching me? A lot of people roamed around, but nobody paid attention to us. “Do you collect photos?”
“Only a few,” he admitted. “I liked your non-conventional style. You capture feelings with your photos. I like that.”
A group of people wandered near us, laughing and drinking. “Want to show me which ones you’re interested in? And I can show you a few more that I haven’t published yet.”
He grinned. “I love the idea of having something nobody else has seen.”
“I’d love a secret album you have that nobody else has heard,” I suggested hopefully. “Although fair warning, I wouldn’t be able to resist sharing it with a few people.”
“Next song I write, I’ll have you listen to it first,” he joked. Or not, I wasn't sure.
“Okay, let’s get back to business,” I told him. “So I’m not holding you up.”
We went through a few photos. My thoughts drifted to Alessio. They always seemed to revolve around him. Even after four years.
“So these three,” Jaymes concluded. “They’ll fit great in my studio.”
My gaze drifted out the window, the street full of pedestrians when my heartbeat halted. A tall figure. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. Familiar profile.
I blinked. And he was gone.
“Yes, yes. Give your address to Branka,” I muttered, my steps already leading me out the door. “We’ll ship it.”
Then I rushed through the crowds and bolted out the front door and onto the warm summer night. The summer breeze swept my hair against my cheek. My eyes searched frantically. The glow of New York city lights. The sound of the city - cars honking, people talking, music playing. But it was all background noise.
He was gone.
“I saw him,” I whispered to myself. “Right?”
Four years was such a long time. Four years without him seemed like a lifetime.
A very lonely lifetime.
Chapter22
Alessio
Iwatched as they lowered my father into the cold ground covered by November frost and felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. I heard sniffles, soft cries, and I knew for a fact they were all fake. My father was hated by most, if not all.
The only ones that didn’t even bother with fake tears were Branka, myself, and my half-brother. And Autumn’s parents. I was surprised to see them. Unless they were here for Branka, since Autumn couldn’t make it.
Autumn.