Page 77 of One Breath After Another

She had always known.

Or at least since ...

“I was given a tubal ligation when I was ten—before my period even started. In my records, and what I was told at the time, was that I was having surgery for appendicitis. Except I heard my parents talking. And the doctor they paid off to do it. So, I’ll ... never have my own. And maybe I just realized that I might want to.”

Penny hadn’t expected a response.

How did one respond to that?

Luca still surprised her.

He always did.

A tight hug that felt like safety found her as his warmth and scent wrapped all around her. One traitorous tear slipped out of the corner of her eye when she heard him murmur against the top of her head, “I’m sorry, Penny.”

Who knew?

Who knew an apology—even if this man had nothing to apologize to her for—could feel like healing? Sometimes, it was all she needed, though.

For someone ...

Anyone to say sorry.

And fucking mean it.

She just wanted people to mean it.

16.

Penny

FOR once, when the months passed without Penny really noticing, it wasn’t because she was depressed. The months leading up to her eighteenth birthday saw her graduate high school—a feat in itself. She never expected to walk across that stage and feel a sense of accomplishment simply for doing it.

But she did.

On the way to turning eighteen, she also got to watch baby Cross go from a sleepy newborn to a constantly babbling, sweet six-month-old. Maybe that was what made the months go by so fast. Before she had even blinked, really. She heard everyone tell Roz—over and over—to enjoy the time she had with her son as a baby because soon, it would change. Babies don’t stay babies for long.

Those people were right.

Mostly.

Penny wanted to see little Cross grow. She looked forward to getting up every day just to see what the baby was going to do that day. It seemed like he did something new every time. She was lucky enough to watch him do it, too.

Turning eighteen meant a lot of things to Penny. It always had even long before she came to stay with Naz and Roz. Eighteen felt like freedom. Of sorts. Freedom over herself, if she wanted, when she finally became an actual legal adult under the law. An adult capable of making her own decisions, living where—and as—she wanted, and even ... leaving.

Because a long time ago, all she thought about was leaving. Back when she was being abused and trafficked by her father, or even after when she was shuffled from one private school to another to keep her issues a secret from anyone that cared enough to try to help, leaving was the one thing she held onto. Or rather, turning eighteen so she could leave.

But then it happened.

Eighteen came and went.

What did Penny do?

She stayed. Right where she was, actually. Roz asked once if Penny wanted to look at apartments in the city—as she had been offered a spot as the lead pianist in a famous Manhattan company when someone pulled a few strings—but she said no. How was she going to still manage to see her godson every day being there?

At least now, she got to wake up to him. And if she did take the spot in the company, she would still wake up to the boy and then head back to home at night where he was waiting for her.

“Are you okay?”