“Will you help me or not?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been in La Maddalena for a day already. I can be there in an hour.”
I nodded to myself, even though he couldn’t see me. “I’ll wait here.”
One hour had passed, and he still wasn’t here. The clock kept ticking, and all I could think about was how I had to go back. I promised Oscar I would return by midnight, and I needed to keep that promise. He was already broken enough, and I couldn’t let him think I had left for good.
He was the only person I could come back to. There was nothing left for me here. I belonged with him.
A door swung open downstairs. I could hear someone coming through the hall. I reached the top of the staircase and froze. Rocco was already in the kitchen, and beside him stood a familiar face.
“Rio,” I whispered.
The sound of his name barely left my lips before the flood hit me. All the anger, grief, and need for him that I buried came crashing back. No matter how much I hated that he let me believe he was dead, I still needed that closure.
My body hurt, but somehow I forced myself down the stairs. When I reached him, standing there in jeans and a black hoodie, I didn’t hesitate. I wrapped my arms around him.
He stood still for a moment, then leaned into me, pulling me closer.
But instead of the words I had hoped for, all I got was a soft chuckle.
“Oh,” he said lightly, “do I know you?”
I stepped back.
He didn’t remember.
He hadn’t stayed away because he didn’t want me. He stayed away because he couldn’t remember me at all. A tear slipped down my cheek, and my heart split in two. Half of me wanted to stay and find out what happened, and the other half wanted to run back to Oscar before everything shattered again.
They say it’s better not to know, but sometimes not knowing is what eats you alive. It never really leaves you. It stays, gnawing at you, forever.
I turned to Rocco. “He doesn’t remember?”
He lifted Nico’s body, glancing at me. “Not a thing.” Then he looked toward Rio. “A little help, boy.”
“How?” I asked, staring at them as Rio brushed past my side.
“No clue,” Rocco groaned.
Rio didn’t meet my eyes. Something was off. I could feel it deep in my chest. I reached out and touched his shoulder.
“Can we talk?” I whispered.
He nodded, but his face was blank.
My gut twisted into knots, my mind racing with questions I didn’t want the answers to.
They lifted the body together, Rocco holding him under the arms while Rio grabbed his legs. They carried him outside, moving like nothing happened. No one would question it. No one ever cared enough to.
To them, Nico was just another drunk who had passed out.
When they came back in, they carried a few bags from the car. They set them down and pulled out bleach and cleaning supplies.
“Little help?” Rocco said.
He spoke like I wasn’t bruised and half broken. I droppedmy gaze and nodded, forcing myself to move. My brave little me, I was earlier, was gone again, slipping away like it always did.
XIX. LIAR
