Page 136 of Chicago Sin
I’m nothing. I’ve got nothing to offer. I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore. I have no life, nothing.
I close my eyes, all the remaining fight leaving my body. “No.”
“No?” Marco demands, challenge in his voice.
“No,” I say firmly. “I can’t be that guy for her.”
“I’ll tell you one thing,” Marco says, climbing off me. Leo follows. He clasps palms with me and hauls me to my feet. “The Mando I know figures shit out when he wants something.”
I stare at him. Resentment burns in my gut. Now that I’m feeling emotions again, I’d like to set the whole fucking city on fire. “The Mando you know is dead,” I tell him and walk out the door.
“Hold up, man. You still want to pound someone’s face in?”
I stop. Crack my knuckles. “Fuck, yeah.”
“Let’s go. I have a visit to pay.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hannah
I go to my parent’s house for Sunday dinner. I thought about canceling, but I’m actually hoping my mom will somehow know the right thing to say to fix me. She’s good like that sometimes.
I cried for five days straight. I can’t stop the waterworks to save my life. I’ve always been a crier, and I know the hormones don’t help, but it’s ridiculous.
Last week, I tried to run my shop and interact with people and put arrangements together, and the whole time, I had tears falling down my face. Josie had to come in and take over the last two days, so I could stay home with my head under the covers.
I walk in without knocking. My mom stands at the counter, throwing together a salad. I sink down in a kitchen chair, too exhausted to even go over and give her a hug.
“Hannah? What’s wrong, baby?” My mom rushes over and envelopes me in one of those mom hugs that usually makes everything better.
I cry into her shoulder. “I’m pregnant,” I blurt. “And I broke up with Armando.”
She squeezes me even tighter. “Oh, baby.” Her hand rubs circles on my back.
“I’m sorry, Mom.” She drilled it into me young to use birth control until I was married and ready to start a family, but I had to go and fuck it up.
“Don’t you worry about me,” she says. “Let’s worry about you, sweetheart. This is a lot.”
“It is.” A fresh spate of sobs come on.
“Hey, hey.” She gives me a little shake. “This is big. But you know you’re going to be okay, don’t you? No matter how things turn out?”
I sniff and nod into her shoulder. “I can’t tell if I made a mistake,” I say between sniffs and sobs.
“Ending things with Armando?”
“Yeah.” I pull away and wipe beneath my eyes. “But he was breaking my heart, you know? He said he couldn’t be my boyfriend because he was too messed up.”
My mom studies me, concern etched in the lines of her face. “Well, you’re allowed to change your mind.”
Fresh tears gush down my cheeks.
“What’s going on—” my dad says from the doorway, but my mom waves him away, and he quickly retreats.
“I don’t know, Mom. It just hurts so bad. I thought I would feel strong by ending things. I did feel strong while I did it. But now, I’m just a mess.”
“Yeah,” my mom says softly. “Breakups are never easy, even when they’re the right decision.”
