“Yup. He’s Jocko's nephew after all.”
The line is quiet for a moment. Neither of us knows what to say.
“I think I’m going to leave sooner than seven weeks…”
“Will you at least stay for the memorial? Rodger said it’ll be on Wednesday and wants everyone there. Please.”
“I’ll be there.”
“I’m going to miss the fuck out of you, you know.”
“I’m gonna miss you too. You know, the invitation’s still open to come with me. I could always use a roommate.”
“Hmm…Maybe. I wanna see how Cash is as a boss. He is one fine mother fucker.”
“Jaz, isn’t he like borderline mob?”
“Nope. He was the cleanest one in the family. Jocko was never into that shit either…It was mainly Declan. We might actually have a respected establishment again.”She laughs, and I can’t help rolling my eyes.
“Text me the details for the memorial. I’ll be by within the next couple of days to clean out my locker.”
“You’re not coming back to work at all?”
“No…I have some things I need to take care of before I move.”
I glance around the living room. Photos are hung on the wall and set across the fireplace mantle. A crocheted blanket is folded on an old rocking chair in the corner. Memories come flooding back. Memories of being curled up in my father's arms during thunderstorms while he rocked us back and forth until I fell back asleep. Being back is making me remember a lot. More than I ever have before.
“Mina?”
“Sorry. Yeah?”
“I just said to take care of yourself. And let me know if you need anything.”
“I will. Love ya.”
“Love ya, too.”
The line clicks, and I clutch my phone to my chest.
Declan’s gone. They think it was the gang who killed Jocko. No one will ever know what actually happened. Fuck. If Declan had waited just a few more days, maybe Rodger would have gotten back with the news about Jocko’s real killer. None of yesterday would have happened.
I leave my cell resting on the couch as I make my way through my childhood home. Everything about this place feels familiar, yet foreign. It’s like waking up in a room you’ve only seen in your dreams. It blurs reality and makes you question what’s real.
I push open the door at the end of the hall. The door to my parents’ room. My mother’s pearl hair pins still lie on her vanity. I touch the ornate handle of my mother's brush. Her bright, blonde strands are still woven into the bristles. It’s like they’re still here.
My father's nightstand still has a book resting on top. I pick it up, and another photo falls out. It’s of my father and mother on their wedding day. And as always, the man beside my father is Myles.
My throat tenses as I run my thumb over the photo. I trace the outline of his strong jaw. His dark eyes were just as hauntingly beautiful back then. I miss him so much already.
Why do I feel this way? After everything that happened and the truth that finally came out…Why?
“Because you love him…”
I scoff at my inner voice. Love? I barely know him…
I look at the photo again, and my heartbeat flutters.
It’s true…I love him.
