Page 134 of A Forgotten Promise

Lily shakes her head. “I mean, I can’t possibly imagine.”

Something tells me that her words were closer to home than she lets on. That she can imagine from experience.

“Yeah, I walked from the grasps of my father right into that one. The only difference is that my father at least didn’t pretend he cared.”

When I woke up this afternoon, Corm’s body beside me was comforting. It felt like home.

But if I want to find my figurative home with yet another man—another person—I need to first take control of my life. Come to a new relationship with my feet firm on the ground.

For a moment, the intimacy I felt in his bed scared me. If I accepted him and gave us a shot, wouldn’t I be just moving to yet another person to control me, to betray me?

As I watched him there, sleeping peacefully, his chest moving, his face so serene, I decided I won’t let my fear and my past come in the way of my happiness.

There is a lot the two of us have to figure out, but that doesn’t diminish the support and care Corm gave me.

Realizing that, I decided to act fast and get my fucking trust fund. Gain my financial independence, so I can be an equal partner.

“Saar, you didn’t deserve this,” Lily says.

For the first time since I was fifteen, a tear rolls down my cheek. “Don’t I, though? It seems to be the pattern of my life. A pretty face who can’t take care of herself.”

“You were fifteen when Vito gave you the opportunity. Promised the world to you. After your shitty parents, you were in no position to recognize he was a predator,” Cora says.

“Or in a position to take care of your finances,” Lily adds. “Is there anything we can do?”

I shake my head. “Thank you. Right now, I don’t even know what to do.”

“Kill fucking Vito,” Cora mumbles. And I love her for being so indignant on my behalf.

“I’m in.” Lily doesn’t miss a beat.

I chuckle. “You’re both good friends. But I’m not letting you rot in jail for that weasel.”

“I’m so mad.” Cora stands up abruptly. “Who wants something stronger? I have vodka in the back.”

“I’ve never drunk vodka,” Lily says.

I look at her in shock. “Seriously? You’re not that young.”

Sometimes, I think Lily ran away from some commune or alternate universe. Her appearance aside, she’s polished and well-spoken to a point that doesn’t fit with her dire financial situation.

But who am I to judge? I have no money and no education. She probably has at least the latter.

“I’m just not a big drinker, I guess.” Lily looks away.

Cora brings a large teapot and three cups.

“What is this?” I frown.

She sits down and pours us each an inch into the cups. The scent of alcohol hits my nostrils.

“I don’t have a liquor license. We can’t do this openly here,” Cora whispers, looking around like she could be caught any minute.

“I feel like a criminal.” Lily giggles and brings the cup to her lips. “Ew, I don’t think—”

“It’s not about the taste, Lils. It’s about the feeling and the buzz. Just down it,” I instruct, and do just that, closing my eyes as the burn hits.

Cora follows and immediately refills our cups.

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