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I nod, turn and walk out the door.

I’m trying, Vita.

I’m trying.

CHAPTER 10

Eleonora

“Where are you taking me?” I ask as I put my seatbelt on.

Jude looks over at me as he starts the truck. “You’ll see.”

I sigh.

Of course. Two words.

“Alright.”

I turn toward the window as we pull away from the ranch.

The sun is already beginning to set, painting everything in shades of orange and gold. The sky seems bigger here somehow, stretching so far in every direction that I can't figure out where I'm supposed to look. Fields roll past us, broken only by fences and the occasional cluster of trees, and in the distance the mountains are slowly turning darker against the light.

Damiano used to talk about Wyoming sunsets all the time.

Best sunsets in America, vita.

And then, because he was Damiano...

Still not as good as Italy.

A smile pulls at my lips as I play with the strap of my bag.

Proud Italian that he was.

I wonder how many times he drove down this exact road. How many sunsets he watched from this side of the window before Chicago became home. He told me so many stories about this place that sometimes I feel like I've already been here, but seeing it is different.

It's strange walking through memories that aren't mine.

Jude turns on the radio.

The first notes of I Miss You, I'm Sorry fill the truck.

I freeze.

Of all the fucking songs.

My fingers stop moving against the strap of my bag.

I know every word. I've screamed them into my pillow, played this song so loudly in the shower I couldn't hear myself cry, listened to it on nights when missing Damiano became something physical and I didn't know what else to do with it.

I stare straight ahead.

Don't cry.

Not here.

Not now.