I have a son.
My son is missing, taken by the mafia because my dad was a fuck who got himself into a monumental amount of debt and then stuck me with the clean-up.
I didn’t know my son because my mother is a raving alcoholic who scared off the love of my life.
Jesus Christ. What a fucking mess.
After a long, heavy silence, I finally clear my throat. “I have a friend looking for them. He said he’ll call as soon as he knows anything.”
Emma just nods, wiping tears from her face with the back of her hand. She sniffles, then stands, “I need to go clean up. I’ll be right back.”
She heads for the bathroom and closes the door. I sit there, staring at my hands, thinking about everything we’ve justshared. We have to figure out what we are to each other, and for me, it’s obvious.
When Emma comes out of the bathroom, I stand and meet her in the hall. I take her hands in mine and kiss her forehead, holding her close.
“Emma,” I say quietly, my thumb brushing her knuckles, “I need you to hear this. Really hear it.”
She looks up at me, and my chest aches.
“I would’ve stayed,” I tell her. “If you’d told me back then… if I’d known… I wouldn’t have run. I would’ve been scared, yeah, but I would’ve been happy to raise a son with you. We would’ve figured it out the way we always did.”
Her eyes glisten, and I pull her a little closer.
“I didn’t love you the way kids love each other in high school,” I say. “It wasn’t a crush. It wasn’t puppy love. It was the kind of love that settles in your bones and never goes away.”
I breathe out, my forehead resting gently against hers.
“No one has ever compared to you. Not once. Not for a second. I loved you then. I loved you every day in between. And I love you now.”
28
EMMA
I don’t knowwhy he’s telling me all this now, after weeks of silence, after pushing me away, after leaving me to untangle the mess on my own.
Why now, when my world is falling apart, and the people I love most are somewhere out there, terrified and alone?
The thought makes my stomach twist violently.
Makes my lungs seize.
A sob tears out of me before I can stop it.
My legs give out, and I sink to my knees in front of the couch, folding forward, pressing my hands together, bowing my head.
I pray.
God, I haven’t done this in years, but I pray.
For Laddie.
For Talia.
For them to be safe.
For them to come home alive.
Suddenly, Liam is beside me on his knees.
