Page 95 of Always You
Ten minutes later she answers.
Mila:He’s doing good.
Dominic:Tell him I miss him and love him.
Mila:Will do.
Her words are short and cold.
“You reek of alcohol and look like shit,” Santiago strolls into my office.
“You don’t look too good yourself,” I say, scrutinizing him.
He has dark circles around his eyes, his stubble has grown into a beard, and he smells of weeks-old clothes. He sighs and pulls a chair in front of my desk. He’s been quiet for a good ten-minute solid; we both are. His hands drape onto his lap.
“I can’t wrap my head around this. Feels so unreal. Why the fuck would she pull this shit, why dude, she left her parentless. A poor teenage girl and an innocent girl. I know Mom can be excruciating, but to commit murder,” Santiago says, enraged as he slams his fist on the desk, his nostrils flaring.
The palms of my hands run up and down my cheeks with aggravation. I gulp through the dry patch of my throat; it feels like I just swallowed a handful of sand.
“I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. I think back to the past years if I’ve missed anything. Some kind of sign or something.” My voice comes out throaty.
“What if she would have died that night?” Santiago’s eyes widen at the thought.
For years it’s all I thought about. Now more than ever.
“She doesn’t trust me with Dante now. She’s afraid Mom might hurt him. Since she thinks I had something to do with it, she won’t talk to me,” I say, looking up at the white ceiling closing my eyes.
“She’s right, Dom. We can’t trust Mom with Dante. We don’t know what’s going on in her head; I’ve always thought Mom had some kind of mental illness. It’s time… You need to tell Liam to take her in. We need answers, and Mr. Amaro needs justice. We need closure. We need to keep Dante and Mila safe. I let Mila down. I’m the oldest; I should have noticed something. Now all I can do is keep my nephew safe and Mila,” he says, disoriented, his voice strangled. Santiago stands from his seated position; he taps my desk and exhales a harsh breath.
“Give her time, Dominic, I’m sure this is all too much for her. She just found out our mother is the reason she lost her father.” He pats my shoulder and walks off without another word.
I pick up the phone making the most complex phone call I’ve ever had to make.
thirty
MILA
The stars are bright tonight, and the moonlight glistens off the blue water. I sit wrapped in a blanket staring at the calmness of the ocean. Two weeks have passed since I bluntly received the news or instead got a two-for-one special—Samantha’s half-nakedness at Dominic’s and shoving the report in my face. My stomach churns at the thought of him with her. I huff with anger. Never in a million years would I have thought Rachel would do this. I thought maybe it was an accident. I never thought someone would want to kill us, especially not her.
“I’m sorry Dad, I’ll make sure that bitch pays for this.” I look up at the sky as the star’s twinkle. “I love you, Dad.” My heart squeezes with pain for my dad and the love of my life, who made me a pawn in his game. They say grieving the living is worse than the dead. When I thought Dominic had died, my anger would rise when I heard those words. Now I understand it’s the most complex and most crucial grief. When you see the person smiling, it is meant for someone else; when you see them laughing, it will be someone else making him laugh. Their hearts would belong to someone else entirely, no longer mine to call. I will witness him moving on. Dante has us tied together; what will hurt the most is—I will have to watch it happen—missing someone who doesn’t miss you.
“Hey, you.”
I jump up, startled, not expecting anyone to sneak behind me.
“Shit, sorry, Mila. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Brian smiles boyishly like he always does.
I give him a return smile. “Hey, you back. And don’t worry about it.”
“Can I sit?” His beautiful blue eyes sparkle in the night sky.
“Sure.”
“What are you doing out here so late?” he questions as he glances at my profile. He frowns.
I must look like shit because I feel it. “Just needed a breather. How about you?” I ask.
“Going out for a jog.”
