AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Enzo.” Judah shook his head, and the lamplight glinted on the few gray hairs in his midnight hair. He was a decade older than Joey had been; he had actually been born in Italy. His family didn’t immigrate until Manny, Franco, and Father had set up in Chicago and chiseled out enough of a life to offer security to all the cousins. Sometimes, in some of his vowels, Lorenzo could still hear Sicily in Judah’s tones. It made him miss the place he’d never even seen. “I’m sorry. No wonder you’re hurting.”
Gingerly, Lorenzo leaned back until his head found the back of the sofa. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Forgive her.” He delivered it evenly, with a lift to his brow that said, You know this.
“But does that mean giving her another chance?”
His cousin tilted his head to the side, the familiar light in his eyes. He liked a good debate as much as Lorenzo. “I suppose first we must ask if you’re obligated to. You weren’t married yet—but then, betrothals may not be the sacrament itself, but they’re serious.”
“Historically, they were considered marriage. Legal and binding.” Lorenzo had always viewed it as such. Well, not legal—but binding, without a doubt. When he’d slid that ring onto Sabina’s finger, he’d meant the forever that he promised.
“But there have always been valid reasons for ending things. Moses listed plenty—”
“‘Because of the hardness of your hearts’ though.”
“Even Christ left room to leave when there was infidelity.”
Lorenzo winced. “She wasn’t—it didn’t go that far.” Did it? O’Reilly’s bragging hadn’t indicated anything quite that bad, and Sabina’s shame hadn’t seemed that severe. But did it matter, really? In her heart, she’d given to O’Reilly what should have been Lorenzo’s. And either way, he had to forgive.
“Regardless, you could end it if you wanted. This is choice, not obligation. So as for your choice…” Judah chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “I think it’s pretty clear what you want to do. You’re defending her even now.”
“I can’t help it. I’m a defense attorney.”
Judah smirked. “That is not it. You love her.”
Lorenzo sighed and listened for a moment to his mother’s song. “What if I was wrong? What if I chose the easy way?”
“You think this is the easy way?” Judah gestured at Lorenzo’s bandage.
A breath of laughter puffed through his lips. “Well…”
Judah tapped a finger to the arm of the chair as he studied him. “I think…I think there may be one way to the Father, Enzo, but there are many ways through our own lives. Many paths we could take. Is there a best way? Yes. And we should listen to the voice of the Holy Spirit so we can find that way whenever possible. But sometimes we misstep. And frankly, sometimes God remains silent. Sometimes, the path of trust and faith means making the best decision we can, stepping out, and trusting that God will take it and use it—continuing in the things we know are good and right. But also knowing that those things about which we doubt are often the ones God uses in the most profound way.”
Continuing in the things we know are good and right. That meant things like caring for the poor, of course, but shouldn’t it apply to his greater life decisions too? Perhaps he hadn’t executed his decisions in the best way when it came to Sabina, but he’d been absolutely certain about his vocation as a lawyer and a husband instead of a priest. Judah was right about that. Lorenzo had good reason to question now—but to question his own wisdom or lack thereof, not God’s direction.
He’d made mistakes on this road, without question. Missteps. Miscalculations. He’d hurt the woman he wanted to treasure above all. But he’d fasted and prayed for weeks before choosing this journey through life. He had spent countless hours in the quiet sanctuary, on his knees in adoration. He’d sought the council not just of Brother Judah but also Father Russo. He’d been so careful to make sure he could fully honor God, even as he loved Sabina.
He’d known true peace about his decision at the time, even though it hadn’t been an easy path. A peace decidedly lacking now, when he considered breaking things off.
Ending things would not make him a better man. It would build a wall around his heart. Ending things without even trying to rebuild his relationship with Sabina when she’d asked him to would mean accepting no blame for his part of this fiasco. That wasn’t who he wanted to be. “You know, Judah, you need to stop by more often.”
His cousin flashed a grin. “If your mother were here cooking more often, maybe I would. Whatever she’s making smells like heaven.”
Come to mention it…it really did. Garlic, cream, parmesan—and she was even now cranking his little pasta machine in time with her song.
Maybe he wasn’t so sorry she’d invited herself along after all.
Sabina hesitated in the threshold to her father’s study, her determination wavering. Papa sat behind his desk with a newspaper. The early morning sunshine slanted through the window, shifted through the rising steam on his coffee, and glinted off his full head of ever-black hair. From this distance, he could pass for a much younger man. His shoulders were broad, his arms thick, his silhouette one of power. It wasn’t until one got close that the lines on his face became visible, chiseled out by hard decisions—and apparently hard living.
Sabina had questions for him—questions that had kept her up the past two nights, woven through her nightmares with flashes of Roman’s smile and Lorenzo’s oozing blood. She both needed and feared the answers. A minute ago, the need had been stronger, propelling her down here to catch Papa before he left for the day. But now that she was here, fear was quickly gaining ground.
Before she could spin away, Papa looked up, smiling when he spotted her. “Morning, princess. My, don’t you look pretty today. Is that a new dress?”
She didn’t even glance down at the blue-gray silk taffeta, though she had taken great pains in selecting it twenty minutes earlier. “I got it for my birthday but haven’t worn it yet.” She drew in a deep breath. “Do you have a few minutes, Papa?”
“For you? Always.” He folded his paper with a rustle and set it aside. His smile was clear and easy, as if last week had completely faded from his mind. “Come on in.”
His office was a work in wood and leather, all the highest quality. When the money started pouring in, this had been the second room he’d upgraded, right after Mama’s favorite sitting room. The scent of cigar smoke always lingered, along with the musk of Papa’s favorite cologne. She went over to his desk and perched on top of it in her usual place.
