Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“You love her.”
“Love isn’t enough.”
“You’re being too harsh—”
“Edric, if I wanted your opinion, I’d ask for it.”
He retreated, pulled back the neck he’d stuck out for her.
“She’s not the one. It’s done.”
He stared at me like he wanted to say more but decided to stay on my good side. “I feel so fucking bad.”
“You should,” I said. “But we’re done because of her actions, not yours. If anything, you did me a favor. Now I know her true character.”
“Isn’t there a difference between someone’s character and a mistake?” he asked. “Because I don’t think she’d make a mistake like that again if you gave her another chance. She’s still a good person, Con.”
“Never said she wasn’t. She’s just not my person.”
He gave a painful sigh.
“I’m done talking about her.”
He gave a nod in agreement, then stared at the wine bottle. “I’m really glad you came down here.”
“Well, Ma made me, so . . .”
He didn’t look offended by that, just grateful for whatever made me face him.
“Sobbed her heart out to me, so what the fuck was I supposed to do?”
“Yeah.”
“But she was right. I’d lost myself. Lost myself to the anger and the grief, and I didn’t like who I was.”
“That’s not your fault, Con. Isabella and I are responsible for that.”
“It’s been six months. I thought I’d feel better by now.”
“Might take years.”
“Yeah.” Six months had come and gone, and I felt exactly the same as the night everything unfolded. It was as if no time had passed at all.
“Everything you said before . . . you were right.” He lifted his eyes from the wine bottle. “I’m not happy with what I have, and I’m even less happy when I have whatever made someone else happy. And then I hate myself for being so fucked in the head.”
I’d said the harshest thing you could say to another person, but I wasn’t sorry about it.
“I’ve always had a crush on Isabella. Didn’t understand why she was drawn to you instead of me.”
“I asked if you were cool with me going for her.”
“I know, I know.”
“And you said yes.”
He nodded. “I know. I assumed I would move on, but I never really did. Thought I’d make a move after you broke up, but you never did. I felt like she and I made more sense than you two ever did, but you’re right. I would have gotten bored in a couple days and would have dumped her, like I do with all the others. I keep waiting for ‘the one’ to walk through the door, but even if she did, I’d probably pump and dump . . . like always. But the truth is, there’s no ‘the one’ for someone like me. I blame my unhappiness on everyone else, but in truth, I’m just a shit person. Could find a billion euros on the street, and I’d still be depressed.”
It was the first time he’d ever been this vulnerable with me, showing me all of his colors . . . including all the ugly ones.
“Everyone loves you because you’re charming and charismatic and all that, and I’m . . . nothing.” He gave a painful chuckle. “It’s funny that we’re twins but nothing alike. You’re happy and healthy, and I’m just fucked in the head.”
I didn’t dismiss anything he said. Didn’t say it wasn’t true, because it was one hundred percent true. “You don’t have to end where you start, Edric. You can change all those things if you want to.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and sank into the chair. “Maybe. Or maybe people never change.”
“I think they can if they want to.”
He gave a noncommittal shrug.
I let the silence pass for a while, let the heft of the conversation wane before I changed the subject. “So what are you doing here in Palermo?”
It took him a moment to leave the previous conversation and join the new one. “I’ve always liked it over here. Picked up a job as a cook in one of the restaurants.”
“And you can afford this place?” I asked bluntly. I’d barely seen any of it, but it had a separate dining room, a full kitchen, and the living room had space for at least twelve people. Major step up from his old place.
“Well . . . there’s more to the story.” A little smirk came on to his face. “The restaurant is owned by one of the Cosa Nostra guys. He took a liking to me and started having me do other things for them.”
“As in, the Mafia?”
“Yep.”
He’d gotten himself into trouble in Taormina, and now he’d come to Palermo and gotten himself into deeper trouble. “Does Ma know this?”
“God no.”
“What kind of stuff do they ask you to do?”
“You know, deliver certain kinds of packages, tail some of the other guys to make sure they’re doing their jobs, eavesdrop on conversations, stuff like that. It pays well. Like, really well. Sure beats making pizza and arancini.”