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He nods. “I may not have, but I’m not innocent in this. We aren’t trying to deny our fault in what happened to you, but all I want is a few moments of your time. We both do. And if you don’t want anything to do with us or this family after that, then that’s fine. We will hate it, but we’ll accept it. Right, Fernanda?”
He glances at her, and even as her face falls, she nods, tears coating the rims of her lower lashes.
Blowing a breath, I say, “Fine, but let’s go into my office so we don’t wake Kayla.”
“Aye.” Patrick curls an arm around my mother as they follow me inside, and I lock the door once they enter.
I don’t know what any of us will get out of this, but I can tell they won’t leave us alone until they get to talk.
My mother appears near distraught as we walk into my office. She doesn’t deserve my time nor my sympathy, but at least she has one of them.
“You have five minutes,” I tell her. “Please…”
Gesturing toward the black leather sofa, I take my seat across from them at my desk. She lowers first before Patrick sinks beside her, taking her hand in his. My eyes catch it before my gaze darts up.
Popping a brow, I cross my arms over my chest. “So, what do you need to tell me,Mother?”
Patrick grunts under his breath at my tone. Too fucking bad. He can leave. Or better yet, they can both fuck right off.
“That’s okay, Pat.” She nods at him with a quick glance. “I deserve that. He has every right.” Her eyes go to mine. “You have every right to hate me. But I can’t live with myself if I don’t atleast tell you the whole truth, my mistakes and all. And believe me…” She huffs. “I have a laundry list of them.”
“No kidding.” I grin.
She ignores my mockery and starts weaving her tale.
“When I was in high school, I met your father, and we became inseparable.”
She peers back at him, and I can see it there in her eyes, the love they share.
“We wanted to be together, but you see, our families—especially mine—were not fond of us as a couple. They were traditional, so they wanted me to marry an Italian man. When I was seventeen, about a year after Pat and I started dating, my mother found out, and she planned an arranged marriage behind my back. Promised me to a man a bit older. Once I was eighteen, I was to marry him.” She bites her bottom lip.
“If it’s too hard, you can stop, sweetheart.” Patrick’s hold of her hand strengthens.
“No.” She raises her chin. “I need to do this.” With a quick exhale, she goes on. “My mother told me about her plans to marry me off as soon as the marriage was set. Told me to leave Pat and stop this foolishness before I got him killed. I told Pat about it, and he didn’t care. Neither did I. We continued to be together until my marriage.” Her voice grows shaky. “He tried to urge his family to stop it, to help us be together, but they too refused. His father couldn’t be involved in a war with the Italians.”
She sniffles, and my father rounds an arm around her and holds her to him.
“I found out I was pregnant shortly before I was to marry Giancarlo.” Her eyes fasten. “I didn’t love Giancarlo. He was cruel. I saw evidence of it even before the marriage. I knew of him and his horrible family, so I made plans to run away in hopesthat Pat would meet me and we could start a life with our child.”
She pinches her temple and shakes her head before staring back at me.
“But my mother found out. Told me if I didn’t go through with the wedding and pretend that my baby was Gian’s, I’d be called a whore around town and no one would ever marry me.” Her eyes grow with fresh tears. “She told me that I’d bring shame to the family and she’d send me away to a nunnery to have the baby before they took my child away. I didn’t know,” she cries. “I didn’t know I was having twins until I gave birth. They didn’t tell us back then.”
Pain seeps from her voice, and I hate that for a moment I feel anything for this woman, even sympathy.
“I know it’s probably hard for you to understand,” she continues. “But having the label of a whore in my circle was like a death sentence. But worse than that, I couldn’t be sent away and have my child taken from me. So I married Gian, and I hated every damn moment with that horrible, cruel man.” She chokes on a sob. “He found out about my relationship with Pat, but he still believed I was a virgin and that it was just a childhood crush. Or so I thought.”
She claps a palm around her mouth for a second, her resolve crumbling the more she talks. “My mother was there with me at delivery when you were born. You had those beautiful green eyes…” She smiles brokenly. “Just like your father’s. While your brother had my dark eyes. Like Gian’s. And I knew in that moment Gian would know you and your brother were Pat’s.”
“So you just gave me away?” I chuckle.
“No!” She shakes her head. “I begged my mother to help me get a divorce, to let me run away somewhere Gian couldn’t find me. But she simply laughed cruelly, right before she slapped mewhile I held you and your brother in my arms. And I knew right then and there she was gonna do something terrible. But I didn’t expect that.”
I sit up straighter. I know this part. Sophia told me her mother was involved, but hearing my mother’s words, her voice… It adds another layer to it.
“She told me I was at fault for my actions. That I made my bed and now I had to lie in it. That if we were going to make Gian believe I was a virgin, I had to give you away.”
“Is she still alive? Your mother?”
