Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I’m ashamed to admit that I miss him. I miss his scent, his warmth, his presence. I miss the way he felt against my body and the safety I thought I had with him. I had convinced myself that he just needed to learn to trust his feelings for me. Foolishly, I thought that in time, he would come back to me, and we’d be okay. We’d make it through. I felt that in my heart. Maybe it was an illusion, but I don’t want to believe it was. Even now, I question it. Did I make a mistake? What if he wasn’t the one who sent Damien?
Then reality kicks in, and I feel stupid all over again. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep making excuses when the explanation is right in front of me. It was there all along, and I just didn’t want to see it.
I slog through the mud, rounding the side of the house, and my heart jumps when I find Nino sitting on a log staring up at the birds in the sky. A silent sob bursts from my chest, and I stagger forward, nearly tripping in the mud as I reach for him.
“Mom?” He turns to look at me with scrunched brows.
What are you doing? My hands move quickly as I sign the words, frustration getting the best of me. I told you not to come out here unless you’re with me.
“I’m sorry.” He lowers his gaze and comes to join me. “I was bored.”
Come on. Let’s go inside. I reach for his hand, and he gives it to me.
By the time we get back in, both our shoes are coated in mud, and I’m too exhausted to care. We kick them off by the door, leaving them as they are.
I’m going to get dressed. I tell Nino. Then we’ll talk.
He nods, settling onto the couch and grabbing the throw blanket to warm himself.
In my room, I change into some leggings and a sweatshirt. We don’t have a lot of clothes between us, apart from the basics I picked up at a cheap store along the way. In my hurry to leave Seattle, I didn’t grab much. I have money to survive on, but I don’t know how long. Eventually, I’ll need to get another job, and I can’t imagine how I’ll do that without Alessio finding out. It would have to be something under the table, and then there’s the question of what I’ll do with Nino during that time. Who will watch him and the baby? I can’t trust anyone, and just the idea of it nearly sends me into a panic attack.
Those thoughts are overwhelming, and I don’t have any answers. I’ve considered leaving the country, but that isn’t even a real possibility. I can’t get us new passports, and the moment our names are registered on any travel document, I’m certain Alessio would know. I don’t know what would happen then. Would he come to deal with me himself, or would he let someone from The Society do it? I’ve become so used to the idea my concern isn’t even dying anymore. It’s the trauma it would leave behind if Nino saw or heard it. I know Alessio would never allow him to witness something like that, but I can’t say the same for anyone else who might come. Every time I consider it, it feels like there’s a vise around my neck. I don’t know how to fix any of this.
I walk back down the hall and find Nino scribbling in his art book. He’s not drawing anything, just scribbling lines. He’s been doing that a lot lately. This conversation we’re about to have is long overdue. I’ve been putting it off, because I don’t have a solution that’s fair to him.
I sit down beside him, touching his arm to get his attention. When he looks up at me, his eyes are still glassy.
I’m sorry I got upset, I tell him. I was worried about you. Can you tell me why you went outside without me when you know you shouldn’t?
“Because I don’t understand why I can’t,” he says. “We used to go outside all the time at home, and now you hardly ever want to. It’s boring in Montana, and I hate it here.”
I’m reluctant to ask because I already know the answer, but we have to figure out how to work through this. Why do you hate it here?
“Because I have no friends.” He wipes the moisture that starts to leak from his eyes. “I have to do homeschool, and I can’t play the piano or go swimming, and there are no boats. I miss the lake. I miss daddy, and I want to see him. I don’t understand why we had to go away.”
His words gut me, and before I can help it, I’m crying too. Nino, being the sweet boy he is, forgets all about his own discomfort and crawls over to hug me.