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Guilt filled me. Mom had had enough reason to worry over the years. I hated to cause her additional turmoil.
I really didn’t want to see Mom’s reaction to the news—the shock, disappointment, worry, and sadness—but I knew I had to face this problem head-on. I’d ignored it for too long. I wasn’t a fucking coward.
“We have to tell her. I don’t want any more secrets. This problem won’t go away by itself.”
Dad sighed. “You’re right. Your mother is strong, and she’ll turn on her mother-bear mode once she hears about your struggles.”
My struggles. Even now, thinking about alcohol as that made me feel like a pussy. I should have been stronger than the addiction, but I wasn’t.
Mom was still awake when we came home. She wrapped me in a hug, checking the cut on my forehead that I still hadn’t let anyone treat. “How’s Emma?”
“She’s okay, but it could have been far worse.”
“What happened?” Mom asked.
“I lost control of the car,” I said. “I drank too much.”
Mom’s eyes widened. “Samuel! How could you? You know what happened to Emma. And what about the baby?”
“I know, Mom, trust me. I know I messed up, and it won’t happen again.”
Mom shook her head, her concerned eyes locked on mine. I could see the questions in them, questions she didn’t dare ask.
“I’ll have to grab something from the car,” Dad said. I had a feeling he needed a smoke. Maybe I should have pickedcigarettes instead of booze to deal with my problems, but it had never been a conscious choice on my part. Addiction had crept up on me like a stealthy enemy I had never seen coming.
Once Dad was outside, I let out a sigh, wondering how to say what I needed to say. “It’s not the first time I was really drunk. I drink a lot. More than I should. More than I can handle. I’m not in control and haven’t been in a while.”
Mom listened with a pained look on her face, but she didn’t seem surprised by my words.
The words I needed to say stuck like glue in my throat, but I spat them out. “I’m an alcoholic.” Fuck, that admission was a punch in the gut. An addict. Being an addict felt like something that happened in dark alleys to people who had no future and no choices. Not to someone like me. Maybe that misconception made alcohol such a dangerous adversary.
Mom pulled me into a hug. I patted her back lightly. “It’s going to be okay, Mom. I’ll deal with it now. I won’t risk losing Emma over this.”
Mom pulled back, tears in her eyes. “I know you’ll beat this. We’ll help you.”
Dad came back in with a cautious look, and Mom narrowed her eyes at him when he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Maybe you too could try to give up on your addiction?”
Dad gave a terse nod. He smelled of smoke. He kissed Mom’s cheek. “Go to bed. It’s late. I’ll take care of Samuel’s wound.”
Mom reluctantly moved upstairs, and I followed Dad into his office, where he kept a first-aid kit. My eyes landed on the array of liquor bottles in the cabinet. Usually, I would have had a drink before getting stitched up. A voice in my head told me that one last sip wouldn’t hurt anyone, but I ignored it.
Dad narrowed his eyes at me. “Will this be a problem?”
I shook my head. “No. Not yet at least.”
Dad nodded slowly as he took out the strips to fix my cut. “Would an enemy be able to tempt you with alcohol under torture?”
“No,” I said firmly. I wasn’t sure of many things right now, but I wouldn’t break under torture because they waved a bottle of wine in front of me.
Dad nodded. “I’m still Underboss for the next two weeks, and I’ll keep a close eye on you to make sure you prove to Emma that you’re serious about becoming sober.”
Becoming sober. I hated how that sounded. But it was the reality of the situation.Fuck.
I’d just sent Danilo back to his hotel room to shower and talk to Sofia when Giorgia came in with a box of chocolates. Renato gave me a tight smile and a nod, then closed the door so we’d have privacy. She came over to the bed and hugged me carefully, her eyes crinkling with worry as she looked at me. “How are you?”
I shrugged. “Okay, I think. A little shaken from the accident.”
Giorgia shook her head. “This is the second time you scared me to death. Can you stop?”