Page 23 of Marry Me in Rome

I was halfway through my breakfast mountain and the usual morning conversation when Dad entered.

My entire family turned into statues—Dad looking at Mom, Mom looking at the floor, and Alexis staring at her food.

Kennedy and I gaped at each other. Had we missed something?

“I know what happened,” Dad said. Almost a whisper, not a shout, but Mom flinched like it was more. His eyes seemed almost as red as hers, his hair greasy and unkempt. It was then I noticed he wore the same collared shirt and jeans as yesterday.

“Not at Jillie’s birthday breakfast,” Mom said firmly. “We’ll talk later.”

His hands clutched the back of the empty chair, his knuckles almost white. “Everyone is here. We’ll talk now.”

“Honey, I don’t care what you think you know. This is an adult matter and we’ll discuss it after the kids go to school.”

“I’m leaving.”

I stopped chewing. He looked almost robotic, as if not an ounce of feeling existed inside of him. The color drained from Mom’s face as she stared at him, her lips slightly parted.

I didn’t get it. Dad never left the house without grabbing something to eat. He’d get hungry at work.

And then I saw it. A navy blue suitcase waited at the bottom of the stairs, its handle up and ready for escape.

“Why?” Mom whispered. Her voice sounded haunted. I saw her hands slowly form fists as she stood there, slouched over like her narrow shoulders suddenly carried an enormous weight.

“You know why.” Dad stepped through the entryway to the kitchen, grabbed the suitcase handle, and headed for the front door.

Alexis’s fork clattered to her untouched plate. “I’m going too.” She leaped to her feet and ran after him.

The details felt like puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit together. Kennedy stared after Alexis with her mouth hanging open. Mom sank into a chair, pale as a sheet of notebook paper. The door opened, paused for a moment, and then closed again. Silence followed.

My birthday breakfast sat in front of me, forgotten.

I rose and hurried to the door, yanking it open. Mom called after me as a horrible realization closed its grip on my heart. The door slammed behind me, but I didn’t care.

Dad and Alexis were already climbing into his car. I reached them just as the car door closed and the engine turned over. Dad’s gaze caught mine for the briefest of seconds before looking away. His eyes held a deadness that made me take a step backward.

“Dad,” I said, my voice shaking. “Our concert.”

“Some things are more important,” he said. “You’ll understand one day.” Then the window slid closed and the car backed down the driveway. I looked past Dad to Alexis, who watched me in sad resignation. She didn’t seem surprised about this at all.

“You promised!” I shrieked at the car. “You said it would be different.”

The car zoomed up the street. At the last second, it turned and I caught a glimpse of two figures in the car. Two of the people I loved most in the world, gone just like that.

Just like Jack. Here one minute, vanished the next.

Some things are more important,Dad said. I stood in my empty driveway for a long time, those words echoing in my teenaged mind. I couldn’t imagine anything being more important than a girl on her birthday, but clearly I was too young to “understand” even at fourteen. It may not have been the lesson my father meant to teach, but nonetheless, a lesson settled into my heart, never to be forgotten.

I, Jillian Travell, would never be important enough.

“Hold on.”Kennedy leaned forward at the table in the dining room later that night. “Matteo bought you a new camera?”

I didn’t want to sound defensive, but I couldn’t help it. “He destroyed the last one. Or his dog did. Whatever. It’s the least he could do.”

“An expensive apology,” Kennedy muttered.

“Did he say where he wanted to take you tomorrow?” Hunter asked, his arm still resting on Kennedy’s shoulders.

“It doesn’t matter. I told him no, and I meant it. I’m spending tomorrow exploring the Vatican with my sisters.”

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