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I drop my head.
“She gave up her entire life to be with him. She has been nothing but respectful and loving… even to your mother.”
I frown as my eyes rise to meet his. “They know each other?”
“Of course, they know each other. They’re friends—part of a family. It’s not ideal, but they made it work. We all did.” He stands and holds his hand out to me. “Come.”
“Where to?’
“I’m taking you to Angelina. I don’t care if you fire me, but as my promise to your father, you will meet your other family—the ones you didn’t know.”
* * *
The car pulls up to the gates of the house in Lake Como.
“Thank you,” Lorenzo says from his place behind the wheel.
The guards look into the car and see me in the passenger seat. Their eyes widen, and they all stand back, granting us access.
“I thought the guards were taken off this house,” I say as we drive through the gates.
“Your mother demanded they stay. She wanted them to remain safe. She’s concerned for their wellbeing.”
I begin to pale as another piece of my reality becomes lost.
The car pulls to a stop, and Lorenzo turns to me. “Do you want me to come in with you?”
I stare straight ahead. “No. I have to do this alone.”
I get out of the car and walk up to the front door to ring the bell. I can hear the blood thumping throughout my body as the rest of the world seems to stop.
The door opens and Angelina stands before me. She’s blonde and beautiful. “Hello, Enrico.” She smiles sadly.
I nod, unable to push a word past my lips.
She steps back and gestures to inside. “Please, come in.”
I walk in the door and look up. My step falters as I’m taken aback, and my eyes instantly fill with tears. A huge painting hangs on the wall in the entryway. It’s at least six feet tall, and it’s a hand-painted picture of my father with her and their son.
He’s squatting down in a field of white flowers. The small boy, who looks only around th
ree years old at the time, is sitting on his knee, looking up at him. My father’s arm is wrapped lovingly around the woman who is sitting on the grass beside them.
Her.
They look happy. So in love.
I drop my head, unable to move from the spot. Unable to speak through the lump in my throat. This is too much. I need to leave.
I can feel him. His spirit is here… with her.
Angelina gives me a sympathetic smile. “Just this way,” she says softly. We walk into the living area, and I frown as I look around. There are photos of my father everywhere. It’s like a shrine.
My thoughts go to my mother’s house, and how she has not one photo of him anywhere.
So different.
“Please, take a seat.” She offers me a chair, and I sit down awkwardly. “Can I get you a coffee, tea?”
