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“Can we take the Bugatti?” Lucia asked, a glint in her eye when we got to the garage.
“No.” That was my baby, and she was insisting on driving ‘considering my injuries.’ “We can take the BMW.”
She pouted but picked up the keys.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you driving it,” I started, “although I don’t. But the less bumpy the ride, the better.”
“My driving is just fine.”
“We’ll see.”
“You nervous?” she asked.
“About your driving?” I joked, but I knew what she meant.
She only glanced at me as she pulled out of the garage.
“Not nervous, just want it over. I know he’s my father, and maybe it’s wrong, but I don’t feel anything close to love for him.”
“Have you forgiven him?”
I thought about it. “For being a complete and utter failure where it counted?”
She shrugged a shoulder, but her gaze was serious. “Regret sucks, Salvatore.”
I knew she still had some of that.
“I actually have, I think. The way he’s chosen to live his life—well, look at him. He’s alone. He’ll die alone. Roman will be there for him, but not us. I don’t feel any anger toward him anymore. It’s like it’s sated or something. Not because I’m happy he’s alone. I’m not. But he made his bed, and I’m making my peace. It’s all I can do.”
“You’re good, Salvatore.”
Once we reached my father’s house, I climbed out of the car. I held the envelope containing the new contract. It was symbolic, nothing else, but it was necessary for closure.
“Ready?”
Lucia wound her arm through mine. We’d gotten used to each other’s company, but when she did things like this, touching me like this, it still felt strange, special. It made my heartbeat quicken.
“You don’t have to go in there.” I watched her; she watched the house.
“I want to be there with you, Salvatore,” she said, turning to me.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
We both took a deep breath and walked up the stairs and to the large, foreboding double doors. I rang the bell, and Roman opened the door, expecting us.
“Morning,” he said, quickly hiding his surprise at seeing Lucia.
“Morning.”
“Come in. He’s waiting for you in the study.” I nodded and took a step. Roman put his hand on my shoulder.
“Should I keep Lucia company—”
“No, thank you,” I said, tucking her arm tighter to me.
He stepped back. “I’m glad you came.”
I nodded, and we moved forward, neither of us speaking. Knocking once on the study door, I pushed it open, not expecting to find what I found. I heard Lucia’s gasp, but I had schooled my face for so many years that masking my surprise came more easily than I thought it would.
“Salvatore,” my father said after glancing at Lucia on my arm.
“Father.” They’d moved a hospital bed into his study. It stood in place of his desk, which was pushed to the side. I remembered that desk, how I’d trembled on the opposite side of it when I’d been called in for this reprimand or that growing up. There had always been something he was displeased with.
“Don’t just stand there, come inside. It’s not contagious.”
His bitterness held an edge of regret. I heard it clearly.
We both entered. He adjusted his positon, so he sat up taller. He looked so much smaller than the last time I’d seen him. So much older. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his cheeks looked sunken. He must have lost about twenty pounds too.
“I came to say good-bye,” I said, not wanting to delay this any further.
He once again glanced at Lucia before returning his gaze to mine.
“I assume you’ve seen the contract?”
“Roman showed it to me.”
“Well, here’s your own copy.” I set it on the foot of the bed. “You were wrong to tell Dominic. He never needed to know.”
He took in a deep breath, and his hand trembled, but his eyes remained fixed and hard.
“It was a mistake,” he said. “One I will pay for until the end.” No one spoke for a long moment. “Will I see you again?”
“No.”
He lowered his gaze to the envelope then back to me.
“I forgive you,” Lucia said, surprising me. “I forgive you for everything you did, all the hurt you caused.”
He only stared at her, but I couldn’t read his eyes.
“We never could please you, huh? None of us, not my brothers, not our mother, not really.”
“I’ve never been an easy man, son. Don’t think I don’t know that. And don’t think I don’t know I’ve made mistakes. I only did what was best for my family.”
“I believe you believe that.”
I released Lucia’s hand then and went to him. Leaning down, I kissed the top of his head. “Good-bye, father.”
His eyes glistened when they met mine, and he nodded but didn’t speak. I walked away and took Lucia’s hand. Without a backward glance, we left the house, got into the car, and drove away.
