Page 47 of A Sinner's Truth

“Fuck me,” Gio curses under his breath. “I have to show you something.”

Neither of us fills the silence for the rest of the drive. When we get back to the house, Gio yanks me into his office.

“Look, whatever you feel, whatever you’re thinking after I give this to you… you come and get me before you do anything stupid.” He reaches a hand into the safe on the wall and pulls out a little notebook. “I found this at the beach house. I didn’t want to show you. Ever. I didn’t want your view of her to change,” he says before handing it to me.

I open it and stare down at the first page. At Shelli’s handwriting scrawled across reams of paper. “What is this?” I ask Gio.

“It’s her journal. I don’t know why she wrote all this shit down. I didn’t read past the first few pages,” he says. “But she’s not who we thought she was. And this guilt that’s eating you up, well, it’s not fucking warranted. She doesn’t deserve it.”

I’ve never heard my brother talk about Shelli like this. They all loved her. We basically grew up together. What could she have possibly written in this book that would change my brother’s opinion of her?

“What did she do?” I slam the book shut. I don’t want to read it. Is this journal what she kept telling me to find?

“You should hear it from her,” he says while nodding towards the book. “Santo, when you do read it, don’t forget you have a wife who needs you—fake or not.” He sighs and shakes his head. “Ineed you.”

“Good thing I’m not going anywhere then, bro. This place would fall apart without me,” I joke before turning and walking out of his office.

I contemplate throwing the journal in the fucking bin. I don’t know what’s in it, but I do know it’s bad if Gio has kept it from me all this time.

I make my way towards the front of the house. I can’t fucking drive but I need to get out of here. I spot Cammi pulling up the driveway. Vin bought her a brand-new Bentley as a wedding gift.

Showy fucker.

“Hey, I need you to give me a lift.” I jump through her passenger-side door before she turns the car off.

“Okay. Where to?” she asks me.

“The park,” I tell her. She knows what park I’m talking about. She’s found me there a couple of times when the family has had to search for my drunk ass.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know yet,” I admit.

As soon as she pulls into the car park, Cammi turns in her seat to look at me. “Want me to stay? I don’t mind.”

“Nah, I got this. Thanks for the ride.” I open the door.

“Santo.” Cammi reaches for my hand. “You really do deserve Aria. I like her. She makes you smile. Don’t fuck it up,” she says.

“I already married her. How can I possibly fuck it up?”

“Do you know that most marriages end in divorce?” Cammi asks.

“Not in our family. They end in a body bag,” I tell her before climbing out of the car. Divorce doesn’t happen in our world. But death sure as fuck does.

Then again, I guess Aria and I will be the first. In a year’s time. Am I really going to be able to let her walk away? I’m addicted to her now. An addiction that’s only going to get worse, the more time I spend with her. The more I have her.

Maybe that’s the problem. I shouldn’t be having her at all.

Shaking thoughts of Aria from my mind, I walk through the park, stopping when I get to Shelli’s statue. “What did you do?” I ask her.

She doesn’t answer. I’m not drunk enough to see her anymore. So I open the journal and start reading. I can almost hear her voice as my eyes scan over each word on the page.

If you’re reading this, chances are I’m not around anymore. I didn’t want this to happen. I love you,S. I really do. But how can I sit by and do nothing when you’re going to destroy not only your life but mine too? I can’t live in the shadows with you. And I know you will never leave them. I know you’ll never leave your family.

When I met him, he was just a nice guy who bought me a coffee. We spent hours talking. He was… normal. Not from the same world you’re stuck in. And for the first time since we were kids, I could picture a different future for myself.

That’s when it started. The fantasies, the white-picket fence, the husband with a nine to five. The safe life. I didn’t mean for those fantasies to turn into anything more than that. But the more I talked to him, the more I fell in love. Not the kind of love I feel for you, S. No, it was different. It was… safer.

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