Page 60 of Till Death Do Us Part

Instead, they’re leaving me more broken than before they arrived.

It isn’t their fault, not really. But I can’t help the deep sadness that envelopes me as I watch them next to each other. Myhalf-sisters. They each carry the same genetics, from both sides, but I don’t. Tears spring to my eyes, and Rosa is the first to break the line and throw her arms around me.

“I’m so sorry, P,” she whispers into my ears, her hands gripping the back of my jumper. “Youareour sister, don’t ever doubt that. Please. Promise me that you won’t push us away.”

“She’s right,” Elisa agrees, joining us with tears in her eyes. My mouth opens, ready to make the promises to them, but the words don’t come. My gaze moves over Rosa’s shoulder to where Sofia stands. Tears fill her eyes, her face as white as a sheet as she bites the skin at her thumb.

I pat my sisters on the back, smiling softly at them as they wipe away the tears on my cheeks. “Give me a minute.”

Moving over to her, I hold my hands out to her. A lone tear falls over her lashes, the sight breaking my heart for the girl who never cries. “Please don’t hate me.”

“I could never,” I tell her truthfully, squeezing her hands tightly. “I’m mad, Sof. But you are my sister, and I believe in you. So I trust that you didn’t tell me because you felt you couldn’t.”

“I’m so sorry, Pippa. You are the light in all of our lives, and I hate him for what he made me promise. I hate him.”

“I know.” Pulling her into me, I fold my arms around her. She’s always hated Papá, almost as much as she loves him. For as long as I can remember, they’ve never seen eye to eye and argue more than any of us. It’s only now that I’m understanding why. “Forgive him, Sofia.”

She eyes me cautiously, waiting for the catch, but I don’t have one. “I’m not ready yet. I’m so mad at him, Sofia, and I’m not ready to hear his answers or give him anything back. But he’s Papá, and we only have him. Forgive him. Please. For me.”

Nodding, she squeezes me once before pulling away and straightening her back. Sofia is the strongest person I know, but also the most stubborn. If she can forgive him for what he made her promise . . . then maybe one day I can find some forgiveness to give too.

“Time to go,” Sofia calls over my head, her words directed at Elisa and Rosa. The three of them give me a final hug, stealing my breath with the strength they pour into me. Whispered apologies, more tears and promises of a better tomorrow are all I’m left with when they pull away, stalking towards the plane and leaving me alone on the tarmac.

My father steps out of the car then, holding the metal frame of the door for a long moment when I turn to face him. His eyes are glassy, his mouth turned down while he stares at me over the runway. He looks older than when he first arrived, more haunted than I’ve ever seen before.

The urge to run to him, to hug him and tell him it’s okay is overwhelming. But it would only be a lie. It’s not okay. I’m not sure it will ever be okay. That moment in the casino changed our lives forever, and there’s no going back.

Anxiety hits me like a wave the second he starts across the tarmac. That same ominous feeling that struck me on my wedding day. Rain pours, chilling me to the bone as it soaks through Leonardo’s hoodie, seeping into my skin.

“Papá,” I shout, my eyes darting over the runway. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I can feel it. Something is deeply wrong. “Papá, get back in the car.”

He looks at me warily, his frown deepening, but he doesn’t listen. He keeps moving, and the pit in my stomach grows deeper. There is no one here but us. Nico waits in the car, ready to take me back, but on this runway it’s me and the man I thought to be my father my whole life.

So why do I feel sick?

Why do I feel the eyes of someone, of many someone’s watching us?

“Papá, please,” I urge, my eyes widening the closer he gets. “Get back in the car. Something’s wrong.”

He reaches me finally, his hands curling over my shoulders and squeezing gently. “I love you. Always. Remember that.”

“There’s something wrong,” I whisper, repeating myself. “You need to go back.”

“I can’t, bambina. The wheels are turning, and we can only go forwards.”

“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye to me?”

“I hope you can forgive me one day,” he says, squeezing my shoulders once more before leaning in and pressing a kiss to my forehead. Tears spring to my eyes once more, spilling over my lashes as he pulls away.

One step backwards, then another. A sad smile passes over his lips, and he gives me a small wave before spinning on his heels and starting towards the plane once more. Only this time, he doesn’t make it far.

A shot rings through the air, the whizz of a bullet passing my head before it strikes his stomach, sending him flying to the ground.

A vicious scream tears through me, my throat burning under the pressure. Pain reverberates up my spine when my knees buckle and slap against the concrete. Blood seeps through Papá’s shirt, staining the white in a crimson coating. My heart shatters into a million pieces, watching as he clutches his abdomen, his face contorted in pain.

Hands clutch my arms, trying to pull me up but my body refuses to cooperate. Everything shuts down as tears roll over my cheeks, my skin bitterly cold as the wind lashes around me and the rain seeps through my clothes.

Losing my father isn’t something I’d ever considered; he’s invincible. Or at least he’s supposed to be. He’s a superhero who wears black suits and gives the best cuddles in the world. There isn’t a single part of me that could ever be ready for the day he leaves me behind.

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