Page 29 of Innocent Union
“You are? Who’s the lucky girl?”
“Her name is Mia. She’s one of Antonio’s sisters. It’s a good marriage for political reasons.”
“Political reasons.” She scoffs. “Killian, I want you to marry for love. Do you love this girl?”
“I don’t know much about her yet. But I will. And then love can come. I’m not worried.”
“I want you to find love,” she says. “I need to know you’ll be happy before I go.”
“Then hold on longer. Please.” I don’t care if I’m being selfish. I lost my brother too young. I’m not going to lose my mom, too.
She smiles, though it’s strained. “I’ll try. For you, I’ll try.”
My phone rings, and I look down to see who’s calling. Mia. I cancel the call. Normally, I’d answer, but my mom needs me right now.
“How have theHousewives of Beverly Hillsbeen doing?” My mom loves watching those reality shows.
“Good, good. Drama as usual. It’s a good reminder of how simple my life is. Just battling cancer. That’s all.”
I chuckle. “Your dark sense of humor is a little disturbing.”
“I have to find the positives in it, Killian. Otherwise, I’ll break down and crumble. And you still need me.”
“You’ll get to know Mia, and you’ll see how nice she is. I can be happy with her.”
“Is she cute?”
“Yes,” I say. “She’s pretty cute. I can make things work with her. There might not be love between us. Not yet. But I believe there can be in time.”
My phone rings again. Mia.
“I have to answer this,” I tell my mom. “Mia?”
“Killian?” she says on the other end. “I wasn’t sure if you were avoiding me.”
I frown. “Why would I be avoiding you?”
“You … you didn’t pick up when I called earlier. But I’m in my head. Sorry. I’m rambling.”
“It’s ok. Did you need something?”
“Uh, yeah. I have to do a cake tasting for the wedding. Want to join me?”
I glance at my mom. “Sorry, Mia. I can’t today.”
“Oh.” She goes quiet. “Understood. I didn’t mean to bother you.”
“You’re not bothering me. I just … I can’t.” She doesn’t know about my mom yet. I need to tell Mia, but a part of me is afraid to. If I speak the truth about my mom dying, it will make everything a reality.
“Ok. Well, I guess I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye.” I hang up.
Mom gives me a sympathetic smile. “Was that her?”
“It was,” I say, clearing my throat.
“Why do you look like you were just run over by a truck?”
