Page 92 of Replay
“Nothing,” I grind out, my mind refusing to let my mother get in my head right now.
“Liar!” she exclaims, and the customers having a coffee at the tables behind me all look over.
“Would you calm down?” I hiss, my anger spiking hard in my veins but not because of Tilly. Because of my mother.
She exhales and nods. “I’m calm. Now, tell me what happened.”
“It didn’t work out.” I shrug dismissively.
“What are you talking about?” Her face morphs into devastation. “I saw you two together hours ago. You’re crazy about her. Vero amore. Real love!”
“It doesn’t matter, Mamma,” I grit through clenched teeth. “She went home. It’s over. Just leave it be.”
She presses her hands to her cheeks, shaking her head like a maniac. “It can’t be over. Surely, you can apologise.”
“Apologise for what?” Of course, my mother would assume this is all my fucking fault. I am the one with the fucked-up past, after all. Never mind the fact that Tilly found a reason to bolt before she even found out the whole truth. “For once, I didn’t do anything.”
“Then what didn’t you do then?” she asks knowingly. She inhales sharply. “Did you tell her about—”
“No,” I cut her off, not even wanting to think about those words. “Just forget it. It’s over.”
“Santino,” she snaps, her tone acidic with barely concealed rage. “Tell me what happened, or I will get out the sauce stick and beat it out of you. I do not care that you are thirty-seven years old! What did you tell her?”
“I didn’t tell her anything, and I won’t tell her anything because she doesn’t deserve that. She deserves something less fucked up than me.” I sag against the counter, shaking my head in disgust.
My mother inhales a shaky breath. “But she loves you.”
“She loves me because she doesn’t know everything,” I correct. “That’s not real love.”
“I know everything,” she retorts, her voice cracking as tears well in her eyes. “I know everything more than anyone in this entire world. Do you think my love is not real?”
“No, but you’re my mother.”
“And who is Tilly?” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I saw a strong, determined girl who certainly knows her own mind. She loves you, Santino. That was very clear yesterday.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not doing this to her. I thought I could, and I can’t. I just can’t.”
“What about you?” She pokes me in the chest. “Do you feel love?”
“Yes, I’m in love with her. I’m crazy about her,” I bite back, hating that this conversation is cutting me open right in the middle of the deli.
“That’s not what I was asking.” She crosses her arms again and looks at me pointedly. “Do you love yourself?”
I scoff and roll my eyes, causing her to grab my chin and aggressively force me to look her in the eyes. “You are focusing on her reaction, but it is actually yours that I’m worried about.”
“This isn’t new information for me, Mamma.” I jerk my face out of her hands and stand so she can’t reach me anymore. “I’ve been living with this a long time.”
“Not as long as me.” She points at her chest. “And I promise you, what you’re doing…it ends only one way…alone.”
Nonno appears from the back, so I lean in to kiss her cheek. “I’m sorry, but I’m going back to London. I’ll call you later.”
Turning, I leave without looking back because I refuse to let my mother drag me down a path when all I’m trying to do is avoid thoughts of Tilly. I didn’t think about her when I dropped her off at the train station last night, and I didn’t think of her when I laid in that hotel room by myself. I’m not giving her any more of my time.
Thankfully, Nonno is silent during the car ride. It’s clear he knows something is up, but he’s respecting my brooding. I’m glad Nonno is the type that only speaks when he has something important to say. Something I should try to get better at, then maybe I wouldn’t have found myself in this position.
When he pulls up to the train station, I reach into the back seat to grab my bag. I pull it forward, and he suddenly grips my arm, stopping me in my tracks.
“It is my fault,” he huffs out, his brow furrowed.
