Page 50 of Angel of Light (Lords of The Commission: New York #5)
ALISON
It’s been two days since I last saw Max.
I forced myself not to think about him, which only resulted in me realizing that I was, indeed, thinking about him.
Ugh!
“Miss Battaglia?” Jimmy said as I answered the phone. “The super just called saying your mother is downstairs. Should I let her up?”
Jesus! My brain seemed to have been switched off for the last few days. I couldn’t even remember to do the simplest tasks like warn my bodyguard that I was expecting visitors.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy! I forgot to tell you she was coming. Expect my dad, too. Let her up.”
Between the meeting with Diego, praying that the deal works out, Max leaving me in that car and not showing up for guard duties, and the excitement from receiving a text from Adrianne saying she wants to come to New York, my brain was running on fumes.
Nothing in me could make me plan a wedding, never mind one I didn’t want.
So, the only thing left to do was bite the bullet and call Mom.
I knew there was no escaping the lecture about how she’d warned me about arranged marriages in mafiosi families. About how much safer of a choice Larry Barrington would have been. Or was it Barry?
It didn’t matter, because between that time and now, hurt as it might, there were chapters of my life that were actually worth living. Fleeting moments were still better than living a lifetime of dullness.
Settling for less seemed like a bad deal at the time, and now that I’ve tasted the effects of true love, passion, and total delivery, I couldn’t help but feel that I ended up settling for worse.
Even if my broken heart told me it was all one-sided. All an illusion filled with lies and deception. My feelings were true, even if his were a part of a play I didn’t know I starred in.
If there was a way out of this marriage, I definitely couldn’t see it. So, here I was, ready to face my Mother’s judgement while I planned to rip the broken pieces of my heart right out of my chest since that was my path for the last couple of days.
But that wasn’t the only reason why I invited Mom over today. I needed closure. To heal at least some of the trauma from my childhood.
Of course Dad was surprised when I called, especially considering our last interaction with my memory intact was less than heartwarming.
Mom, as per usual, was punctual to a fault.
An inherited trait from Grandpa, for sure.
Funny how watching the clock hit two on the dot made me remember him saying that being on time was a sign of respect.
He used to lecture my father because of it, even though I knew Dad didn’t mean to disrespect anyone.
He just had a natural ability to get so lost in his own world that time always got the best of him.
I’d been pacing my apartment for the better part of an hour, rehearsing these conversations, knowing I could plan it to the tiniest of details, and yet, it would never go as I expected.
Emotion never did.
Some truths couldn’t be kept to a script, especially when involving decades of buried pain and carefully constructed walls meant to keep each other at arm’s length.
“Hi, Sweetie,” Mom said as I opened the door, her soft eyes matching her smile. She stepped inside, pulling me in for a tight hug. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, Mom. Thank you for coming, I know it was short notice.”
“You sounded like you needed to talk. I’m worried, but it still warmed my heart to know that you needed me.”
“I’ll always need you, Mom. Even when I don’t.”
She placed a kiss on my forehead, the stilettos she wore giving her a few inches of height above me.
I closed the door behind her as she walked further into my apartment.
She looked elegant as always, her dark hair pulled back in a perfect low bun, but I could see the wariness in her eyes.
It was the same look she wore throughout my childhood whenever emotions threatened to surface.
“How are you holding up?” She asked, but even after all that rehearsing, how to start this conversation had simply vanished from my mind.
I gestured toward the couch, and we both sat down, an ocean of unspoken words between us. I let out an exasperated sigh, knowing there was no use in beating around the bush. She’d see right through my bullshit anyway, so I went straight into the deep end.
“I know about Adrianne.”
Her whole body went completely still, her cheeks drained of all color while her eyes took me in without so much as a blink. I saw the way her hands shook before she folded them tightly over her lap to force them to settle.
“How?” She whispered. In the single word, I heard the weight of over twenty years of secrets crashing onto her shoulders for one last time.
“I overheard you and Dad talking at AD. About Ann and Adrianne.” The memory of that day still felt like a knife in my chest. Standing outside his office, listening to my world crumble with each revelation. “I know he loved her, Mother.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
I could see my mom processing this little bomb I dropped like it was nothing.
Her mind was probably racing through all the implications, all the pain that listening to their conversation brought me.
There had never been a need for words for her to know how deeply I felt anything that implicated my father.
“Why didn’t you say anything before?” She finally spoke.
I watched her face carefully, seeing guilt and regret at war with something that looked almost like relief.
“Because it never gets easier to say that I never felt like I was enough for him. That conversation just gave power to all those insecurities. I didn’t like what I felt.
I didn’t like being the person those feelings turned me into.
So I kept it to myself out of guilt, maybe? Or just shame.”
Mom’s composure finally cracked, tears welling in her eyes as she reached for my hand. “Oh, Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to find out that way. I never wanted you to carry that burden.”
“But you knew I was carrying it anyway. You’ve always known how hard I tried to earn his love, how desperately I wanted his approval.
How much effort I put into being this version of myself, worthy of his time and love.
” The words came out sharper than I intended, but years of buried hurt were clawing their way to the surface.
“You watched me break myself into tiny pieces, make myself someone I’m not, trying to be perfect for him, and you never told me why it felt so impossible. ”
It sounded like an accusation when it shouldn’t have.
Before Mom could respond, I heard a key in the lock.
Jimmy opened the door for my father to walk in.
As soon as his eyes scanned the place, landing on my mom as she sat beside me on the couch, resignation covered his features.
After our father/daughter dance at Liam’s wedding, he knew this conversation was coming.
“Teresa,” he said with a small nod, his French accent thicker than usual. I’d come to notice that tell of his when he was nervous or emotional. Or just because he was addressing my mother. “How are you feeling, my love?”
“I’m okay,” I replied as he placed a kiss on my cheek before sitting on the opposite side of the couch. “I asked you both to come here because we need to clear the air. All I ask is no more secrets. No more half-truths.” I said, standing up. My legs felt unsteady, but I needed to face this head-on.
“She knows, Adrian,” Mom said quietly. “About Adrianne.”
Dad’s eyes closed briefly, and when he opened them, they were filled with a pain so deep it took my breath away. “I know she does. Are you ready to talk, mon coeur ?” My heart.
The endearment hit me like an arrow to my soul. I could still hear him calling me that when I was a little girl, but as time went by and things got complicated, he stopped.
“I think I am.” I took a deep breath before continuing, “I know you had an affair and that you loved her. I know Adrianne exists and how much she’s struggled her whole life not knowing who her father is.
” I paused, gathering courage for the hardest part.
“And I know that when Mom told you she was pregnant with me, you said you never wanted that.”
Dad’s face crumbled before he buried his head in his hands. “No, no, no. That’s not what I meant. That’s not what–” He looked up at me, his eyes desperate. “I was talking about the situation, the scandal, the pain it would cause everyone. Never about you. Never about wanting you.”
“Then tell me the truth. Please. Because I’ve always felt like you didn’t love me, and what I heard just confirmed it.” The plea was whispered, but I knew it would hit him exactly where I needed it to.
Dad was quiet for a long moment, and I could see him choosing his words carefully, probably for the first time in decades, deciding to be completely honest with me.
“I met Ann when she was working as an architectural consultant on one of our projects. She was brilliant, passionate about her work, and being with her felt... easy. Natural. Like I could breathe for the first time in years.”
He glanced at Mom, probably assessing the damage such words could inflict on her. I knew better than to think they wouldn’t affect her, but still, she nodded for him to continue while keeping her expression as placid as she managed.
“Your mother and I, we had a marriage built on family expectations and business arrangements. I cared for her, respected her, but with Ann…” He trailed off. “With Ann, it was different.”
“So you had an affair.”