Chapter 61
Harlow
“You are mine!” His fist connected with my stomach, taking the breath from my lungs. “You’re mine.” He grabbed my face. “You just need to love me.”
I jerked away from him. “I’ll never love you!” I would fight him. He wouldn’t kill me. The pain was what I felt my entire life. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t be doing this. You wouldn’t treat me like this. And you wouldn’t have killed my mother!”
He caressed my cheek. “Your mother is alive.”
I gasped, screaming as the nightmare hit me like a semi-truck. Was it truly a nightmare or more of a brutal flashback? It was my reality. He was a nightmare who was trapped in my subconscious because he was a cruel monster. I hated that he had this power.
My mom was alive. I needed to find her, to save her from the monsters this life trapped her with.
What if I was too late or he was lying to me?
He was a narcissistic asshole who got off on my pain.
Telling me my mother was alive was another angle for him to torment me, and it worked. I needed to know the truth.
I didn’t realize I was fighting a ghost until I heard Caterina’s voice pulling me like an anchor. “Harlow, baby. Breathe. You’re safe.”
I clutched her hands, grasping them like my lifeline as she pulled me from the abyss.
My breathing was erratic as a panic attack soared through me, but I listened to her soothing voice as she caressed my skin and sang to me in Italian.
I was safe. I needed to breathe so I could tell her my mother was alive and we needed to find her.
With Vincenzo dead, she could be anywhere or with anyone.
“M-my m-mom. Sh-she’s alive. We—I need to f-find her.”
“Baby, breathe,” Caterina said calmly. How the hell was she so calm, and why wasn’t she gathering an army to find the other woman that means the world to me? “She’s here.”
“No, we—” Wait, what? “What do you mean?”
She smiled at the look on my face. “We found out after, but she’s here. Your grandmother is here, too.”
Oh, God. My family was together again.
“I—” I choked on the words before they even formed.
“Come on. Let’s get you dressed and we can have you go downstairs. She’s been waiting for you to wake up.”
Caterina helped me dress and I felt my heart pounding in my ears, blocking every other sense right now. After eight years, I’d finally see my mother again. After eight years of being deprived of her embrace, I would finally be back in her arms. God, I really hope this wasn’t a fucked-up dream.
Cat took my hand and wrapped her arm around my waist, guiding me down the stairs.
My legs trembled beneath me. A month of being in bed felt unnatural, my muscles still processing and being uncooperative.
I pushed through the pain. I needed to. There were no excuses now.
I could finally live. There was no more surviving with fear, but now I could live each day and not be terrified of a shadow.
We paused at the bottom of the steps, and I didn’t realize how exhausted I was. My chest rose and fell unevenly; my body trembled slightly with a mix of pain and fear. Caterina gave me a reassuring squeeze before we made our way into the kitchen.
Lizzy was there, laughing softly with an older woman whose dull, brown hair was streaked with grey.
When Lizzy’s gaze lifted and found mine, her expression brightened.
I didn’t need confirmation. I already knew, but when I saw her eyes—the same familiar hue that steadied me as a child and kept the nightmares away for years—my heart stopped.
Caterina was the only reason I didn’t collapse.
My chest tightened, but not from pain or fear.
For the first time in years, the shattered pieces of my soul felt like they were fitting back together.
The broken parts of me that Caterina couldn’t fix were slowly repairing themselves.
In front of me stood the woman who raised me, the woman who sang to me, who pressed kisses across my cheek until I laughed, and who loved me first. The woman who did her best to save me when my father destroyed us.
She looked so different from the woman I remembered.
Her face was thinner, her eyes more hollow.
She was carrying the weight only years of suffering left behind, and I knew because my eyes mirrored hers.
Scars mapped across her skin, telling me the story of the life she endured.
Even with everything that changed, her eyes… God, her eyes were the same.
“M-Mom?” The word broke out of me in a whisper. It was her, I knew it was her, but I needed to hear her voice. It was the final piece of evidence I needed to prove that this was real.
She nodded, tears spilling from her dark eyes as she rose slowly from the chair and crossed the room towards me.
I let go of Caterina, stumbling towards her.
And it was sheer willpower that I was able to stay on my feet before throwing myself into her arms. My arms wrapped tightly around her neck, hers around my waist, and I broke.
I sobbed into her neck, clutching onto her like the world might tear her away from me again if I let her go.
Her fingers brush through my hair as her tears soaked into my clothes. We collapsed to the floor, the breath knocked from both of us. My body was in agony, but my heart was so full I was in her arms once more. The pain I was in didn’t compare to the joy and love my heart felt in this moment.
Eight years.
Eight years of silence, of nightmares, of grieving. And now I knew. For the first time in eight years, I felt whole. This feeling was different than the way Caterina made me feel. I couldn’t explain how I felt right now other than complete.
There were footsteps coming next to us, and I looked up to see an older woman. She looked like my mom. “Oh, goodness me,” she cried. “Let me look at you. Oh, you look just like your mother, my sweet girl.”
“Harlow, this is your grandmother, Opal.”
I extended my hand, and she took it. I pulled her down and wrapped my hand around her.
My family. I was no longer alone. Caterina was my family, but I had my mother and my grandmother.
I never thought I could feel this much love in my life.
It felt like the years of pain and agony were finally getting replaced. Nothing could destroy this moment.
I was happy.
I had my mother. My grandmother. My wife. And soon I would have Serenity, too.
“Mommy?” a small mouse-like voice broke us as my mom and grandma pulled away from me. “Who is that?”
I wiped my eyes as my mom grabbed a little boy with light-brown hair, tanned skin, and the same honey eyes as mine. He was no older than four, and my stomach dropped knowing what my mom had to endure in the eight years we were separated. “This is Harlow. She’s your older sister.”
“Hi.” I smiled at him, hiding the pain in my voice.
“Hewwo, I’m Hayes.”
“You have a thing for names that start with H, Mom.”
She picked up Hayes and held him on her hip. “I had to stay on trend. Harlow, Hunter, Hayes, and Hope.”
Three. Oh my God. “Mom, I—” I stopped myself from questioning her since the little boy was here. She knew exactly what I was going to ask as she brushed Hayes’ hair out of his face.
“The answer is yes, Harlow, but it doesn’t change how much I love the three of them.”
The guilt clung to me like a thick, heavy smoke, suffocating me.
Three children. Three innocent little lives in the eight years I thought she was dead.
Three children born in the same hell that broke me.
I couldn’t fathom the thought of bringing a child into this world in such a brutal way, and she did it three times.
I swallowed hard, needing to get out of here before my composure broke.
My…brother kept talking when another child came into the kitchen.
When Caterina reached for my hand, I gripped hers back tightly, maybe too tightly, afraid that if I let go, the guilt would spill out of me and drown us both.
I told myself to breathe. To hold it together a little longer.
She didn’t need my pain when she had her own.
The older boy stopped, looking at me curiously as Hayes giggled. “We have another swister.” Hayes beamed. “Her name Haro.”
“Harlow,” my mom corrected. “Hunter, this is your sister.”
He looked at me with questioning eyes. “Hi.”
“Hi, buddy.”
Hunter ran off again, and my mom shook her head. “He isn’t good with new people. He’ll adapt once he gets to know you more like he did with Luca and Malachi. Hope is sleeping, so you can meet her when she wakes up.”
I winced, touching my stomach and seeing blood.
“Oh, great.” Caterina was on me in an instant, lifting my shirt to inspect my wound.
“I’m okay. We can deal with it in a minute.
” Caterina nodded, stepping back as I embraced my mother once more, feeling my heart break for her.
I didn’t need to let my guilt or my pain radiate to her. “I love you so much. My God.”
“I love you, Harlow. Go take care of your wound. No one can separate us now.”
“I have my family back.” She kissed my cheek.
“I’ll come see you when Hope wakes up.”
Caterina helped me up and walked me out of the kitchen. Tears burned my eyes as Caterina closed the door. “She—” My voice broke. “She had children.” I pressed a trembling hand to my chest. “I…Caterina, I couldn’t imagine and she…”
Caterina carefully pulled me into her arms. I needed to get my stomach checked out, but I needed comfort and to calm down first. “Harlow, breathe. I can’t tell you how to feel because I don’t know the emotional turmoil you’re feeling. You need to talk to her, okay? Don’t let this guilt fester.”
“She’s going to hate me,” I whispered, my voice breaking with a sob.
“No she won’t. You were both fighting your own demons, bellissima.” I cringed, but she didn’t notice it was because of the name. “You got out. You lived. And because you lived, she has a chance now, too. Don’t destroy yourself for surviving.”
“I need to shower. I can’t—” I clawed at the fabric on my body and Caterina grabbed my hands.
“Baby, breathe. Come on. We need to clean this wound before Lena comes back and stitches you up again.”