Six years of moments stolen from me, if they're truly mine.
The anger rises, hotter, until it feels like I might explode.
How could she?
Even if she hated me, even if she believed I betrayed her father, those children deserved to know their father.
I deserved to know my children.
I imagine she’ll say she was protecting them.
If Aldo was willing to destroy his own brother, what would he have done to Umberto's grandchildren fathered by the man he framed?
Still, the justification does nothing to soothe the open wound pulsing inside me.
They're walking, talking, thinking little people now, people I should have protected, guided, loved.
People who've lived their entire lives without knowing half of who they are.
I pound on Elena's door.
Each second she doesn't answer feeds the inferno raging inside me.
When the porch light finally flicks on and the door swings open, Elena's surprised expression, first confused, then alarmed, sets me off.
I push past her into the hallway. "Were you ever going to tell me? Or was your plan to let me die without ever knowing I’m a father?"
Elena's face drains of color. “Luca?—”
“Tell me!”
"Keep your voice down," she hisses, closing the door. "The kids?—"
"My kids, Elena? Are they mine?"
Her silence is answer enough, and my soul breaks.
This woman I would have laid my life down for has betrayed me in the worst way possible.
I love her still.
God help me, I do.
But I don’t want to.
Not anymore.
ELENA
I stand frozen, heart hammering as Luca demands answers. I’m stunned that he knows.
Even as I knew this day was coming, I have no response.
"How did you find out?"
"How did I—" Luca's laugh is bitter. "That's what matters to you? Not that you kept my children from me for six years?"
My legs feel unsteady. “I should have told you.”
