Page 247 of Remy

He barks a laugh. “Well, she’s certainly the type to eat her young.”

41

OLIVIA

I stand in the courtyard, wishing the speed of time would increase so I could return home and stop pretending I’m holding my shit together when the truth is I’m the slightest nudge from mental breakdown.

I’m surprised I didn’t succumb at the sight of Remy.

I force a smile as the afternoon sun warms my back and well-wishers form a line in front of me to pay their respects.

I’ve seen the tradition play out a million times. I even stood at my father’s side for the very same procession after my mother’s funeral.

But I never imagined the brutally hollow ache of doing it alone.

Distant relatives I haven’t seen in years put their hands on me, offering hugs as if the embrace brings reassurance instead of uncomfortable contact.

Strangers exude pained grimaces and murmur numbing platitudes.

Then Lorenzo hobbles toward me, his walking stick lightly thudding against the cement on his approach.

I swallow, unsure if he’s going to provide the final blow to my composure.

“Mia cara ragazza.” His mouth kicks in a sad smile.

I’m not sure what the greeting means. It could be a threat. A taunt. Who knows? But it sounds nice, and his eyes offer fatherly kindness I wish I didn’t pine for.

“My sincerest condolences.” He leans the walking aid against his hip and takes my hands. “Please know that the family stands by you in this time of loss. Whatever you need is yours. You only have to ask.”

I nod, blinking back the burn. “Thank you. I received the food baskets you sent. They were appreciated.” At least for the few minutes the contents stayed in my stomach before being ejected into the toilet.

“How are you holding up?” he asks.

I clear my throat, unsure if anyone seriously expects me to answer that with honesty. “I’m doing okay.” I glance away, hating the vulnerability that edges its way up my arms. “We all know it takes time.”

My gaze pauses on Remy resting against the building yards away, his foot kicked back against the brickwork, his eyes on mine.

My pulse falters, my heart breaking out in a mass of agonizing beats.

He’s still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

“Did you hear what I said, Olivia?” Lorenzo asks.

“I’m sorry.” I blink back to the conversation. “What did you say?”

Lorenzo glances over his shoulder, tracing the path to where my attention had been. “You know he mourns for you as much as he does for your father.” His kind expression returns to mine. “That boy has lost himself to you.”

No. No. No. No. No.

Focus.

Breathe.

Relax.

I swallow the emotion-fueled bile that thickens at the back of my throat. “I’m glad he came” is all I can reply.

It’s the truth.

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