Page 203 of Legacy
My voice cracks.
“How many more times was I going to watch you in photos or keep you in trinkets, when I could have you here instead?”
“I was fine, Angelo. I was happy, even.”
I reach for her.
Slowly, like I’m afraid she’ll leave if I move too fast.
I cup her cheek, brushing away the tear that finally escapes.
“I wasn’t,” I whisper. “Every second away from you felt like dying. Even now, with you angry, with that wrinkle in your brow and that pout on your lips—”
The corner of her lip lifts and I continue.
“I’d take that. I’d takethisover empty. Every time.”
Her eyes flick to mine, she pulls away rising from the couch again, eyes flashing.
“Don’t say things like that.”
“You wanted answers,” I say, standing too. “I’m giving them.”
She says nothing at first.
Just exhales, hard and sharp, and runs a hand through her ponytail as if trying to smooth down the emotions still bristling under her skin.
Then, quietly, she sits back down.
Her movements are slower now. Less fire, more flickering embers.
She grabs her plate, spreads a thin layer of cream cheese onto a bagel half, then takes a bite.
Silence folds around us.
But it’s not empty.
It’s full of unspoken things, thick and heavy and raw.
She chews slowly, jaw tight, eyes locked on the table, but the sharpness in her spine begins to ease. Barely. Her shoulders drop. Her breathing steadies.
And then she hums.
Soft. Absentminded. A barely-there melody humming between bites.
Shealwayshums when she eats.
She doesn’t even realize she does it.
Dio.
I love the sound.
That low, gentle tune that used to fill my kitchen back then, floating from her mouth like she was made of peace.
Back when her feet were always cold against mine and she’d steal the pizza off my plate before I could stop her.
She’s here.
