Page 29 of Catching His Runaway

Walking toward her, I take a seat. Sinking into the leather, I have to force my body to relax. Hands finding my knees, I fight the urge to let one of them bounce.

“I should have come sooner,” I start as my brows pinch together. Before I can mutter an apology, her worn hand finds mine. One little squeeze is all it takes to make my eyes water. She’s as warm as I remember.

“I wanted to give you your space,” she explains softly, “assuming your brothers have already taken up plenty of your time. I’m sure coming back must’ve been hard. How are you adjusting?” As her thumb brushes the back of my hand soothingly, I feel my walls crumbling.

She’d make everything easier if she held some sort of grudge.

Forcing a laugh, I try to think of an appropriate answer. “As best as I can, I guess.”

I don’t dare tell her about what’s been happening between me and Tommy. That’s a line far too thick to cross to even consider.

The thought of talking to her about the mess I’ve gotten myself into makes me bite the inside of my cheek.

“You’re eating, aren’t you?” Her free hand touches my cheek ever so lightly. “I hope you’re taking care of yourself.”

“It’s been rough, I won’t lie. But the food here seems better than I remember.” Forcing a laugh, we catch up as best as we can by trailing lighter topics. She doesn’t poke and prod like Santino or Tommy, demanding to know what was the falling domino that led me here.

She fusses about my health and habits like a mother would.

With the past clawing at me, reminding me of what important things I missed out on, I try to meet her gaze and fail horribly. Chewing on my lip, I blink a few times and let out a shaky breath.

“About Dad–” My words catch in my throat, “I’m sorry I wasn’t around. I should’ve come for the funeral, but I knew if I tried to reappear, I’d be dragged right back in. With my life the way it was at the time, I didn’t want to lose even more than I already had.”

Terrible, greedy excuses. The weight of my reasoning has clawed at me since I found out about his passing.

Her eyes pinch shut, and I can see the pain, the longing. Shaking her head, she squeezes my hand like she needs it, too. “He went peacefully. We buried him on this gorgeous hillside, one that faces the ocean. You know how much he loved the open waters. I can take you there sometime, and you can make your amends,” she murmurs, promising me something I don’t deserve.

I hate getting emotional. Once tears start falling, they’re hard to stop. If I were talking to anyone else here, I could push a strong face and keep myself collected.

My mother is the definition of warmth and gentleness beneath the childish facade I painted for her to be.

I tried blaming her too many times for why I felt trapped, and now look at me, caving the moment she sends kindness in my direction. Kindness I don’t deserve.

Thanks to her, the floodgates open up. They don’t close until nothing is left. By then, my eyes sting, and my throat feels sore from choking back sobs. She’s not the type to hold a grudge, it seems.

“Why don’t you hate me?” I finally ask, aching to know. “What I did was unforgivable.”

Her lips curve, and she swipes at her own beading wetness collecting at the corners of her eyes. “I love all my children, Valeria. Just because you left didn’t mean you were no longer mine. Running away from all of this runs in your blood. I was the very same when I was your age. Before I met your father, I wanted to leave, too. He changed everything. Made me want to stay by his side. I had a reason not to leave. At the time, you were still looking for yours.”

She’s told me this story a thousand times. It was always her way of trying to ease me into the topic of arranged marriages. Back then, I dreaded her stories of the past, despite her luck with finding the perfect man arranged for her.

“You’re back home now, that’s what matters. If you choose to leave again, once the mess of your past is behind you, then, as your mother, I’ll make it happen,” she assures me.

“I’m not going anywhere, thanks to Santino,” I scoff with a shake of my head. “He’s stuck Tommy on me until the end of time.”

“A big mistake, if you ask me.” To my confusion, the corners of her eyes wrinkle. “His devotion to you may rival your brother’s.”

I’m sure she’s thinking about the past, back when Tommy had to watch over me to appease my father. She doesn’t understand that he’s only ever done things to repay this family for taking him in. He’s not devoted to anything other than the people who belong here, and I’m outside of that circle.

11

Tommy

The moment Valeria slid into the library, I moved. Already knowing how Bia is, their exchange wasn’t going to last five minutes. Guessing she’d soak up an hour or two of time to catch up with her daughter, I felt the need to leave. Didn’t want to linger and listen to both women get emotional.

This morning, my mood has been sour. Ever since, I’ve felt off balance. I need a refresher, something to knock me back in place.

When I hit the stone stairwell that leads down below, my muscles don’t lose tension when the thick copper scent coating the air hits my nose. Instead, Ihesitate.The thought of the scent clinging to my clothing is what does it. Hints at a weakness forming.

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