Page 157

I’m not giving up on us. We were made for each other. I know that’s another cheesy fact, but it’s true. As true as the fact that I want to touch you right now.

I’m here for you. Whatever you want. Whenever you want. Please allow me to be the one you turn to when you need to cry, vent, sob, laugh, cheer, relax, or just be. I will never walk away from you. You are the love of my life. The light in my tunnel. The heat to my cold. I hope one day you can forgive me. I don’t know if I will ever feel the same if I lose you from my life.

Your one and only,

Liam

I read the letter five times.

The first time, I’m taken aback and angry.

The second time, I’m sad.

The third time, I’m hopeful.

The fourth time, I cry.

The fifth time, I get out of my bed and head out of my bedroom towards Liam’s room. I knock on his bedroom door, and he’s there before I can knock again. My throat is dry as he steps back. He’s shirtless and wearing a pair of white boxers. I hold the letter up in the air, and he nods wordlessly. He steps back again, and I enter the room.

He closes the door behind me, and we just stand there. I’m not sure what to say. Not sure how to forgive him. I’m still so hurt.

The pain in my heart is still raw.

And then I see the records on the floor and bend down to see them. It’s a stack of operas. I look up at him in surprise, and he gives me a disarming smile.

“What’s this?” I say finally.

“I was listening to operas.” He bows his head. “MainlyCarmen. I was hoping to have something to discuss with your mother, if I ever got to meet her.”

“You were listening to operas?” I ask him in surprise.

“She likes them, right?”

I nod silently as tears well up in my eyes.

“I wanted to impress her,” he says in a soft voice. “Wanted to have something to talk to her about that would make her think I was worthy of you.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to do it.” He walks over to the bed and takes a seat and pats the bed next to him. I head over and sit next to him. “How are you?” he asks, his eyes studying my face. “How is your mother?”

“I’m fine,” I lie. “Really good.”

“I know it has all been a lot.” He shifts closer to me. “You’ve met a mother you thought had passed. That would be a lot for anyone.”

“I’m happy to meet her, to know her.” My voice cracks, and I take a deep breath. “It makes me sad,” I admit as I look at him and play with my fingers. I feel guilty saying anything negative. “She’s not well, and it just seems to come on out of the blue. I can see how it affects my father. I can see she knows it sometimes, as well.” I stop as I’m not even sure how to express how I feel. “It’s overwhelming.”

I feel Liam’s arms around my shoulders.

“It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, Elisabetta,” he whispers against my hair. “It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to be hurt and scared.”

“I’ve never felt like this before.” The tears come, and I hold on to him. His familiar scent comforts me, and I’m grateful to have his strong body to hold me close.

“What can I do to help?”

“What will happen when I go back home? Will she think I abandoned her? That I don’t care? Should I stay and take care of her?”

“Your parents don’t want that,” he says, stroking my back. “But just because you are based elsewhere doesn’t mean you can’t visit often. As often as you want.” He pulls my head back and kisses my forehead. “I will support you in any way that I can. Your parents want you to be happy. They made their choices. You do not have to give up your life to?—”