The door closes behind me and I lean against my back against the door. The sound of Izzy’s cries is faint as she breaks down just on the other side and the sound guts me. All I want to do is walk back in there, take her in my arms and comfort her. But she’s not mine to comfort, not anymore.
My eyes sting, the result of leaving myself bare in front of the only woman I’ll ever love. I use the sleeve of my jacket to wipe my face, trying to regain my composure and tilt my head back, attempting to take a deep breath.
I hear footsteps coming down the hall and I know how it is before I even open my eyes. The asshole always has the worst possible timing.
“How the fuck did you find—” He cuts off as I turn to him, his eyes widening as he takes in my appearance. Yeah, I probably look like shit, yet I really can’t bring myself to give a fuck.
“Fuck,” he mutters before closing the distance between us and wrapping his arms around me.
The gesture brings me a sense of comfort as I mirror him and sob into his shoulder. I can’t even remember the last time I hugged one of my brothers. Hell, the last time I cried was when my mother died twenty-two years ago.
“Come on, let’s get you home where we can drink all of our problems away.” He pulls back and nods before walking towards the elevator.
I follow him with my head bowed. “I can’t go back to my apartment, Enzo. I can’t fucking do it.”
He nods in understanding. “Then we’ll go to Marco’s and drink a bottle of his expensive whiskey, he can’t refuse to share like he usually would, you’re hurting brother. What kind of brother would he be if he didn’t let us drown out our issues” he says with a smirk, and I roll my eyes at him. Marco likes to collect the expensive shit, and Enzo’s always harping at him to share, yet he never fucking does.
Enzo drives us across the city to our brother’s apartment. I’m not one to normally turn up at my brother’s apartment unannounced, but apparently, I’m just letting Enzo take the reins for once.
“You knew, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t come to Chicago, because you knew she wouldn’t be there,” I say.
“Yeah, I did. I’m not sorry Luca, she needed me, and I was there, I won’t apologize for that.”
“I know,” I murmur, “thank you for being there for her, for believing in her when I wouldn’t, and taking care of her when she needed it.”
“I didn’t do it for you, bro. She’s like a sister to me and I’ll always be there if she needs me, just like I am to you. I don’t know what will happen between the two of you, but if you can’t work it out, don’t expect me to choose sides. I won’t do it Luca.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. I’m glad she has you man, she needs someone in her corner—even if that someone isn’t me,” I whisper the last sentence, not trusting my voice not to crack and he gives me a solemn nod, the emotion that flashes behind his eyes tells me he knows exactly how close I am to having a fucking breakdown and I slump back in my seat, closing my eyes for the rest of the drive.
“We’re here man, come on.” Enzo parks the car on the pavement in front of the apartment complex and we make our way up to the penthouse that Marco occupies. My father bought us a penthouse apartment on each of our eighteenth birthdays and we all still live in them to this day—other than Enzo’s new apartment that’s conveniently located opposite a certain bookstore.
The elevator opens into the sitting room, where we find Marco casually leaning back in the chair, whiskey in hand while frowning at his phone. He glances up as we approach, and he shares a look with Enzo before getting up and going to the kitchen. He comes back a moment later with two empty glasses in hand before sitting back in his seat and pouring us both a glass of the whiskey that was left on his coffee table.
“Are we going to talk about it? Or are we going to mope?” Marco asks and it takes me by surprise. The last thing I expected Marco to do was initiate a conversation, especially about feelings.
“I lost her,” I murmur, the words sending a pain through my heart, and I wish I could just fucking rip the fucking organ out of my chest and be done with the everlasting pain that’s coursing through me.
“Do you love her?”
“What sort of fucking question is that, Marco? Of course, I do. With fucking everything that I am.” I glare at him from across the room, but he remains unaffected as always. Always so fucking stoic, my brother.
“Then don’t give up. I know that if you could go back in time and change the course of events you would. I know. She’s hurt right now, she’s pissed, and she needs time to process everything that’s happened. You’ll regret giving up if you do…” he stares off into space, his mind taking someplace else. “You’ll regret it for the rest of your life,” he says and swallows the rest of the drink in his glass before closing his eyes and shaking his head. Why does it sound like he’s speaking from experience? I’ve never known my brother to have a girlfriend, or even a regular fuckbuddy, so why does it sound like he understands my pain? I’m about to ask him just that when Enzo subtly shakes his head from where he’s standing near the window, so I lean my head back on the sofa and stare up to the ceiling, wondering how and why the hell my brothers have kept it from me.
“Well, this is fucking depressing.” A voice sounds from behind me and my head snaps towards it. How the hell did I not hear the elevator?
“What the fuck are you doing here? I ask.
Alec smirks at my attitude and slumps down into the armchair next to mine. “Marco texted me as you arrived, inviting me to the fucking pity party. You look like shit. Then again, your wife’s appearance wasn’t much better,” he says with a laugh, and it takes everything in me not to lunge myself at him and strangle the little fuck.
“What the fuck do you mean by that? When have you seen Izzy?” I say through gritted teeth.
“Today. We had coffee together, we’re besties now,” he says with a wink and my control snaps. I jump to my feet and go to reach for the gun in my waistband but my brothers both grab me before I can grab it. Assholes.
“You can’t fucking shoot your best friend,” Marco says in my ear while I struggle to get out of their hold.
“Jesus, you’ve fucking lost it, man. I’ve worked with Izzy for two years. Granted, I didn’t know who she was, but she’s been killing herself lately trying to fix the wrongs of her father and I asked her to meet me so I could check up on her and try and talk her into taking a break. I like the girl, and I don’t want her working herself to the bone because of misplaced guilt. I also might have given her something that could help your case. So, chill the fuck out and sit the fuck back down,” Alec barks and I stop fighting against my brothers’ hold and give him a reluctant nod before they let me go and I sit back down.
“What did you give her?”
“A replica of the thumb drive that was sent to you,” he says, and I don’t know whether her having that is a fucking good thing or not. I’m not sure anything could help me at this point. I’m pretty sure I’ve lost her for good, and I’ve lost a part of myself in the process.
I stare at the headstone in front of me, the headstone that I haven’t visited in years because I’ve been too busy. Or more like I couldn’t face the fucking pain of coming back here.
Maria Romano
Loving wife and Mother
“Fight for those you love. Whether that’s beside them, for them or with them.”
Marco’s words from yesterday reminded me of the words our mother always used to say, she used to say that love is the most powerful thing in the world, and it can also cause the most devastation. I’m going to have to agree with her on that one, because of the pain that I’m feeling? Yeah… it’s fucking devastation alright.
“Hey, Ma,” I whisper into the cold morning air. “I met her. My reason for living, I mean. But I fucked up and now I’ve lost her, and now I have no fucking idea what to do… How am I meant to live without the other half of my soul? You’d have loved her, Ma. You’d probably kick my ass for what I did to her, and I’d deserve it. I miss you and I wish you were here so you could help me through this, I’m sorry for not visiting more often, it just fucking hurts.” I close my eyes and breathe in the bitter cold air, allowing the cold to pierce my chest. “I love you.”
