“Sorry about that.” I sigh and shuffle to the kitchen. “Do you want a coffee?”
“Cortado, please.” She leans against the kitchen counter. “You know who the man you punched is?” Her tone suggests she knows who he is.
“Yes.”
“Why is Lily in London and you’re here?”
“Mom, just drop it.” I push the cup to her.
“The way you look, I’m not sure I want to leave the twins with you at the moment. This is the first time I’ve seen you not being fit to parent them, and you went through a lot before.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, sighing. “I have things under control.” Wow, the lies keep piling up.
She steps closer, pulls my hand away from my face, and cups my cheek. “My love, you don’t have to try to control everything. Sometimes, we just need to lean into the crazy, spontaneous and chaotic to feel alive. You can’t control all the outcomes. You have already proved that you can face any and allchallenges. But darling, you can’t always plan ahead for them.”
Life is not always predictable.The memory of Lily’s words hurts like hell.
“It’s too late, anyway.” Acid gnaws at my stomach, sharp and relentless.
To my utter shock, and in such contrast to my current emotional turmoil, Mom laughs. “It’s never too late. Didn’t I teach you that?” She pats my cheek and turns to finish her coffee. “I talked to my friend Bernadette.”
“The countess from England?”
“Duchess.”
“Mom, I really don’t feel like chitchatting about your friends.” Especially the ones that are geographically closer to Lily. “I should go and be with the kids.”
“That Spinelli man you punched? He’s back there, weaseling his way in. And he’s not a good man.”
A sour burn rises up my throat as I clench my fists. I turn to the windows, the anger blinding my vision.
“Anyway,” Mom says, “he might be one of those situations you actually want to have under control.” She squeezes my shoulder. “I’m going to say goodbye to the kids.”
“Good night, Zach.” I kiss his forehead.
“Can I still play for a bit?”
“It’s late, buddy.”
“But I can’t play piano with this cast. And I couldn’t swim at Granny’s, so my airplane is all I have left—”
“Okay, okay, Zach, you can play with your airplane.” Jesus, is he becoming as dramatic as his sister? I walk to the door.
“Dad?” He stops me. “Is Lily coming back?”
Fuck. “Her dad is sick, and she needs to run their company while he recovers.”
He nods, luckily not pressing the topic. “I miss her.”
Me too.“Good night, Zach.”
I rush away from there, scared of another question.
Zoya is half-asleep when I enter, so I kiss her forehead, and she mumbles something before turning to her side.
“Good night, sweetheart.”
Let’s hope that, at least, they can have a good night.