Page 91 of Where Happiness Begins

“Do you think…” Nan’s lip twitches, and then she looks away as if searching for her next words. I’ve never seen her looking for something to say. “Do you think he might have known things about Francesco he didn’t want you to know?”

I narrow my eyes, and only after a long moment does it click. “You know? Youknew?”

“It’s been a long time,” she simply answers.

“But…how? He told you?”

She smiles, but it’s nowhere near her honest, warm one. “He may have been your daddy, but he was my son first. He didn’t need to tell me.”

I stare at her, dumbfounded.

“You were so young when it began. It was hard for him after your mama left. He struggled, fell into some bad habits. I’d babysit you more often, and I knew he didn’t look well. He might’ve thought I was some old bat, but I could see it all.” She coughs in a tissue she’s pulled out of God knows where. “I got worried. Talked to him about it. At first, he denied it all, but eventually, I got to him. It took years, but I finally had him realize he had a problem. And then I went with him to get the help he needed.”

My nana, so strong, so level-headed, releases a shaky breath. “It was hard, but he got better for you. So you wouldn’t see him this way growing up. So he could be the daddy you deserved.”

And he was. God, he was. I wipe a tear with the meat of my palm as I continue listening with bated breath, finally getting the answers I craved, as difficult as they are to hear.

“There were relapses, and there were moments I worried he wouldn’t make it through, but if there’s one thing Francesco was, it was a man of his word. And when he promised me he’d succeed in quitting, I believed in him.”

My poor father, who struggled for so long in silence.

“I wish he’d told me,” I say, voice sounding like broken glass. “I could’ve helped too.”

“Darling, that’s the last thing he would’ve wanted. I’m sure if he were here, he’d be crying tears of joy that you never noticed his struggle.” She smiles. “That’d mean he did right by you.”

That sounds like the kind of thought process he’d have had. Even when we were struggling financially, he never let me know, never let me share the burden of worrying with him. He allowed me to have a childhood that was as carefree as possible.

More tears fall, and this time, I don’t bother wiping them away.

“I’m not surprised he helped others after he recovered,” Nan says with a sniffle. “That was all Francesco.”

“You’re right.” Now that I know, it makes so much sense that he used his own troubles to help others get through theirs. I can’t fault him for the times he left me alone in order to get to his meetings. And as angry and heartbroken as I am at Carter and his lies, I’m so freaking glad Dad was there to help him with his recovery.

Nan gets to her feet and grabs the untouched bowl from the table. I stand too and swipe it from her hands. “I got it.” This time, she lets me.

“You two are so similar,” she says. Nostalgia is drawn all across her features.

I hum, and once I’ve poured the soup down the drain, I turn to her, hip leaned against the counter. “It’s hard for me to reconcile the man I knew with these new parts of his story.”

“Then don’t. It doesn’t matter in the end.” Nan shuffles my way. “Your daddy might have had his struggles, but he wasso much more than that, just like you’ve always been more than your struggles.” She pats my cheek. “The only thing that ever really mattered is how much he loved you. His precious girl.”

I feel her words to my core, like a stab wound she’s tried to heal but that’s only started bleeding harder. A sob escapes my throat, and I wrap myself around Nan so we can share some of our pain.

“I miss him so much,” I say against her hair that smells like the drugstore perfume she’s worn all her life, lilacs and peaches. It’s a small beacon in this flood of newness and revelations.

“Oh, darling, I miss him too. Every single day.” One of her own tears touches my shoulder, gliding down my arm.

She pulls back, her grip firm on my arms. Her plump cheeks are glistening under the weight of her grief. “But that just speaks to how lucky we are to have had our time with him. It was worth it, you see?”

I’m not sure when the ache of not having him around anymore will lessen. Maybe the answer to that is never. Even so, I wouldn’t exchange my memories to have it go away.

“Yes.” I blink the wetness away from my eyes as I grab her hand in mine. “Yes, it was all worth it.”

Chapter 37

Idon’t know if I’m making a mistake.

My body sure feels like it. As I stand in front of Carter’s apartment, I can’t help the nausea threatening to make me barf at even the thought of what I’m about to do. But I have to push through it. I’m tired of hurting.

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