That night had been rough already. One of our authors was going to leave out of the blue, taxes were a mess so was plumbing in the whole building, and Adam was being a handful over some feud at hockey practice. I didn’t need one of Jack’s surprises, too.
But I took Adam and went to the restaurant without complaining, bracing for the worst, knowing I’d find refuge in wine.
I’d asked Jack not to drink because I was planning on getting hammered. He’d laughed it off, too excited to share his news to care. I was on my second drink when he dropped the news, but I got too upset to even finish it.
I tried to be patient as always, telling myself I could fix it. But I knew I couldn’t. I’d endured every single one of his big decisions no matter how crazy or out of reach they seemed to be because I loved him, and I loved the way his eyes sparkled when he thought he was on to something big. I was happy when he was happy. I loved making my family happy.
As long as I could fix it, I didn’t mind or worry. But the new press was going to destroy us. Even I couldn’t come back from that.
I’d told him I wanted to go home. He got upset. We fought. We never fought but we did. I’d told him to drive us home, but he refused, so I just took Adam and jumped in the car leaving him behind.
Suddenly, he ran out of the restaurant and climbed in, apologizing. I’d already started the car so I just drove.
He was rambling, trying to convince me his idea was brilliant, but at the same time asking me to not to get upset. Bipolars had this great ability to jump from one topic to the other and mix them together to sound relevant in a way that gave you a whiplash. Normally, I’d have tuned these conversations out, but that night, I kept yelling for him to shut up.
Adam was upset, too, and joined the yelling. I was so mad at myself, at Jack, at Adam, at the world, and then BAM!
I crashed.
I was in shock for a minute, yelling for Adam, but all I could hear was Jack telling me to switch seats. I did just for him to shut up so I could check on my son. But Adam wasn’t answering, and Jack wasn’t helping me to stop our son’s bleeding, as if he’d known there was nothing to be done.
Jack just held my hand, a peaceful look on his face I’d never seen on him before, and told me one word. “Live.” NotI love you, nottake care of our son, nothelp me.
Live.
The ambulance arrived and declared Adam’s death on the spot. Jack was still alive, and so was I, but I wanted nothing but to die.
At the hospital, they tried to save him but couldn’t. I was the only one without life threatening injuries. I was the only one they could save, as if they’d been working for Jack, obeying his wish.
“They’d told me Jack’s blood alcohol test came back high. 0.09 percent. Obviously, he’d been drinking before I’d arrived and hadn’t bothered to tell me before I’d started, too. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t driving. I was. I should have called a ride even if I’d just had one drink.” I lifted my gaze to Fabio’s. “It was I who killed my son. You still think I should forgive myself? You still trust me to be a mother to your daughter?”
His silence was all the answer I needed.
CHAPTER46
Fabio
She didn’t give me a chance to answer. She didn’t give me a chance to say anything. She just shot up and locked herself up in Adam’s room.
I knocked, but she never opened. She was in so much pain, and I had no clue how to take it away.
I wanted to take it away.
Gabriella might have made a mistake, but she wasn’t a bad person. She was the most responsible and reliable person I’d ever met. She liked to stay in control the whole time. She’d have never driven while knowing she wasn’t in control. She couldn’t have been drunk. She used to drink a lot. She’d have known. She said it herself. She had one drink and didn’t finish the second.
What Gabriella had wasn’t a DWI. It was an accident. Accidents happened.
If I could prove it to her, she might be able to accept that what happened wasn’t something she could have controlled. And she would know I still wanted her. I trusted her. I loved her.
But how?
After a lot of thinking, I decided to call Mattia. She might help me find the evidence I needed.
“Rospo, come stai?” She evil-laughed.
“Mattia, listen. I need your help with something.”
“You sound serious.”
