Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“You need to reconcile with Edric.”
“I don’t need to do anything.”
“You’re brothers—”
“We were brothers when he kissed Isabella, so why don’t you remind him of that?”
“I have,” she said. “I just visited him in Palermo, and he said he knows you don’t want to speak to him.”
“And he’s right.”
“Con, it’s been months—”
“And I don’t want to speak to him for the rest of my fucking life.”
“Constantine.”
I piled the arancini on the tray, then shoved it into the other free oven. “I said what I said—and I fucking meant it.” When I came back to the steel counter, my mother looked like she was on the verge of tears.
She never cried. She was tough and resilient and never gave in to despair.
“Family is everything, Constantine. He’s not just your brother, but your twin.”
“The only reason you care is because he moved to Palermo.” It was a two-and-a-half-hour drive, and the distance was too much for my mother. She wanted all of us to live right here in town forever. To have lots of grandchildren and spend our days working at the restaurant and our nights cooking for our family. “You only want us to reconcile because it’s what you want. You don’t actually give a shit what he did to me. You just want me to get over it so you can have your happy family back together. If this were a friend, you would tell me to stab him with a knife, but because it’s Edric, I’m just supposed to brush it off.”
Her face started to tint slightly, but not with anger, just raw pain. “Yes, I want my sons back together. The boys I grew in my womb and birthed five minutes apart. The only men I love more than your father. Yes, I admit that. But Con, it’s not good for you to carry anger like this. It’s been six months, and you aren’t you anymore.”
“Well, being betrayed by your brother and the woman you thought you would marry does that to you.” I stepped away from the table and ripped off my gloves, no longer interested in prepping for the day. I tossed them in the garbage and leaned against the other counter, far away from my mother.
“I’m sorry this happened to you, Constantine. But even the best people make the worst mistakes.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and looked out the window. The sea was quiet, the sky clear. Fishing boats were already out there looking for their catch to bring to the village, the dinner that would be on everyone’s plates that evening.
“You think you know everything right now, but in ten years, you’ll look back and realize how young you were. And you’ll wish that you’d pardoned your brother instead of losing all that time you could have spent with him.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“I wish you understood how sorry he was.”
“Isabella and I would have been planning our wedding right now.” I cocked my head. “Doesn’t that bother you? That in six months we would have married on the cliff where you and Dad got married, and our families would have finally been united in marriage. You’ve said we were meant to be together since we were five years old. And all of that is gone because my asshole brother wanted what I had.”
She held her silence, but her breaths increased with the weight of my words.
“And yet you look at me like I’m the asshole.”
She gave a slight shake of her head. “I love Isabella like a daughter, and yes, I’m devastated that this isn’t going to happen. But I don’t think you should lose your brother over this too.”
“You act like it’s up to me to save the relationship, when Edric is the one who chose to destroy it. I didn’t ask for this. I’m the victim in all of this, but somehow the responsibility to salvage the relationship has fallen to me.”
“How is Edric supposed to fix it if you’ve blocked his calls? If you won’t open your apartment door for him? If you won’t come to family dinners if he’s there? What is he supposed to do, Con?”
“Fuck off, that’s what.”
The tears finally burst from her eyes. “Constantine, please. I can’t live like this . . . it hurts my heart. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat.”
I looked away, not wanting to see my mother cry, not wanting to be responsible for her tears.
“Please, I beg you . . .”
I still wouldn’t look at her, but hearing the echoes of her sobs bounce off all the ovens and steel counters was like torture.
“You don’t smile anymore. You don’t joke anymore. Hold on to this hate, and it’ll consume you until there’s nothing left. I don’t want to lose my son—and I’m not talking about your brother.” She continued to sob, the sound splitting my ears. “I’m so proud of who you are, and I don’t want to watch that disappear. I don’t want you to fade into another angry man in the crowd. I don’t want you to die from bitterness and resentment. I don’t want the strain on your heart to kill you, like it did your father.”