Page 131 of What's Left of Us

Ever so quietly, she says, “Luca could help me get the father I knew back. That’s why…”

That’s why she left me.

It’s the reason I always knew but never heard her admit. She’ll always choose Nikolas Del Rossi, no matter the circumstances.

Shaking my head, I lean back in the booth and grip the ceramic mug until my knuckles turn white. “I told you I’d help you.”

“Don’t lie to me, Lincoln.” She sounds so tired. So defeated. And, for once, I’m not sure I feel bad for her. Because she did this to herself. “We both know you never wanted to help him. You wanted todestroyhim. All those years of you going behind my back to take him down in a way you could—”

“I did that foryou.” I cut her off, gripping the edge of the table. “I did that for your freedom. For your happiness. You didn’t want to live the life he chose for you.”

“But that didn’t mean I wanted his life ruined, Lincoln! He’s family, no matter how convoluted that might seem to you.”

There will never be a day when we agree on this. She’ll always stand up for him, while I want nothing more than to stand back and watch him burn.

“So you let him ruin everybody else’s life instead,” I state, nodding emptily. “I guess you are a Del Rossi, after all.”

Hurt shadows her expression. It’s the last thing she wants to hear, but as I sit there and watch her gape at me, I realize one thing.

I don’t care.

I.

Don’t.

Care.

And goddamn, is that a freeing feeling.

“I’m trying to make a difference,” she whispers, her voice shaky. “You have no idea what I’ve had to do to make sure things change. For Leani. For you. For me.”

Her eyes grow distant as they glance to the window into the dark night.

But what about whatI’vedone?

“I came here to tell you what I heard. Not just for me or him. But so more people aren’t pulled into the mess he’s made,” she murmurs. “I’m doing what I can to make sure my father doesn’t destroy more people’s lives.”

I watch her, loosening my hold on the table and leaning up. “The problem is,” I murmur with a sigh. “I don’t think I believe you.”

Her lips part at the words I’ve never spoken before. Thought, sure. But I never said them aloud. It would have put the final nail in the coffin a long time ago if I did.

“You don’t want him to cross lines that he can’t go back from,” I say. “But he already has. There’s no changing what he’s done. To us. To other people. You want the truth? The only way to help him is to stop him.”

She closes her eyes.

“I get it, Georgia.” My throat bobs. “Family is important, and we can’t help who we love regardless of what they do.”

When she finally looks at me, there’s an emptiness in her eyes that feels permanent. She’s doing this because she loves him, and it’s the same reason I tried helping her. Because Ithoughtit was love. But what if it wasn’t? “I guess we know that well by now, don’t we?” she murmurs.

Two plates appear in front of us by Sandy, who studies the tense expression on our faces before shaking her head and walking away. But not before I hear the older woman murmur “a damn shame” under her breath as she goes.

Georgia lowers her eyes to study the panini in front of her.

Her usual.

“I guess we would,” I finally answer, picking up my burger and taking a bite.

She watches me in silence.

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