“Tracker works?” Massi calls out from the driver’s seat.
“Yup,” Gio says.
“Alright, I’m calling your cell,” he says to me, then a moment later, my phone is ringing. I answer it and put it in the pocket of my blazer.
“All that’s left to check now is you,” Massi says.
“Me?”
He smiles. “Yes, you. How’re you feeling?”
I let out a shaky breath. “If I’m being honest, nervous. I feel like I don’t even know what to say to her.”
“Just remember, she’s your mom. She might not have any memory of it right now, but you both still share that connection, and that’s a powerful fucking connection to have. If anyone is going to be able to spark something in her memory, it’s going to be you.”
I nod. “You’re right. Thank you, Massi. I needed to hear that.”
His words bring me comfort, but I still can’t ignore the swarm of butterflies trying to explode from my stomach. How did I find myself in this situation? I never thought I’d see my mom again, and now that I have her so close yet so far away… I don’t know. The feelings are too much to contain, but I’m doing my best.
“Alright, you better get in there. She’ll be here shortly,” Massi says.
I nod and push the door open, but before I get out, I glance over my shoulder at the three guys I never thought would be the ones to be here for me on one of the most memorable days of my life. “Thank you. All of you. This means a lot.”
“Don’t thank us yet,” Gui says.
“Yeah, you can thank us when we have your mom back in the states, safe and sound,” Gio says with a smile.
I turn my attention to Massi, who gives me a look of encouragement, and says, “Go in there and get your mom back.”
I smile, then get out of the car and head into the spa.
When I walk in, I’m greeted by a woman at the front desk, who directs me to the women’s locker room.
My leg bounces as the anticipation hits me while I wait for her to show up. What am I going to say? I have to tell her she’s my mom. I need to figure out what she does remember. Is she happy with her life here? Is there even a small part of her that feels empty on the inside? Like she’s been going through life all these years feeling like she’s missing a piece of her heart?
I’m lost in my thoughts when someone clears their throat. My head snaps up, and I make eye contact with the woman who shares so many of the same features as me.
“M—” I stop myself again and clear my throat. “Vittoria.”
She looks at me with gracious eyes, like she’s studying me. “What were you going to call me?” she asks.
“I …”
I’m unsure if I should say it. From the research I’ve done since finding out she’s alive, it says amnesia can be a delicate condition. I don’t want to overload her with too much information right away.
I shake my head. “Nothing, I just?—”
“No,” she says, moving forward to close the distance between us. “You were going to call me something else. I would really like for you to tell me.”
I slowly rise to my feet, and it takes everything in me not to throw my arms around her. I just want to feel my mother’s warmth. Her comforting touch. Something I never thought I’d feel again.
“I was going to call you mom,” I choke out, tears straining my eyes. I try to push them back down, but I can’t.
My vision blurs and my lips wobble as I choke back a sob.
My mom’s eyes reflect the same thing as mine, then she throws her arms around me and takes me into an embrace I’ve needed—longed for—for the past decade.
I release the sob I’ve been doing my best to suffocate, and cry out into her hair.
