Chapter 32
LILY
My eyes feel heavy. I groan in complaint, the side of my face pounding as I look at the empty space beside me in Lorenzo’s bed. I don’t know what time it is, but I know it took me what felt like forever to finally fall asleep.
I embraced Lorenzo, running his hand over my hair last night, as if gently petting me to sleep.
His absence deepens the pit in my stomach.
There were so many things I wanted to say to him last night, a wild confession brewing within me.
The truth of the matter is, I felt relief when he burst into the family room before being scared by his unhinged rage.
As Lorenzo pried further into my childhood last night, I wanted to combat him, so used to pushing away anyone who looked further into my family dynamics.
From a young age, I understood that what happened in my home wasn’t normal.
That my friends' families didn’t harbor such ugly secrets.
I was trained and conditioned by my mother to never discuss it, and advised by my father that if I were to tell anyone or try to leave, I’d be cast out from the family with no future in sight.
A threat that no longer has a hold over me like it once had.
But up until now, I always smiled and pretended everything was okay.
At times, I even convinced myself it was.
Especially when he finally let me move out for college.
He let me keep my apartment, and with some convincing from my mother, I was permitted to open and run the flower shop.
I thought he was seeing me as a grown woman, slowly releasing a shackle.
But the only one convincing me of that freedom was myself.
I thought no one understood, but Lorenzo does.
However, we still had very different upbringings.
Part of that is what makes me admire his strength to step into action, though perhaps not the bloody part.
But I also understand that those murderous hands are the same ones that protect me and brush my hair gently when I try to fall asleep at night.
I don’t yet know what I’ll do about my father. I’ve finally gained the courage to escape the toxic cycle, but his outburst last night only confirms that he's still very much the same man he was when I lived there.
I sit up on the side of the bed, my toes curling at the coolness of the wooden floors.
I should feel liberated today, and yet, my mind is still drifting back and forth. How will my father respond? Will he ruin me or my shop? Take my apartment away from me? Take it out on my mother?
But there’s a small voice inside me, telling me, for once, it’s going to be okay.
Maybe that has to do with Lorenzo’s confession last night. My heart flutters at the way he expressed he’d protect me no matter what. That he loves me.
I wanted to tell him the same, but could immediately sense the wall he put between us. I was also shocked, unsure how I felt about his level of violence. I don’t understand the full scope of what being with Lorenzo looks like.
But without a doubt, I know I love him.
My face throbs.
My father did this.
I push to my feet, yet again finding the courage to face him.
I’ll try to convince my mother one more time to leave him, and if she chooses not to, then I have to finally accept that that’s her choice—and I have to make my own.
It feels ridiculous how closely I guarded this ugly secret, and now that I’ve exposed it for what it is, I feel liberated. It’s not over, but baby steps.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, my brother’s name appearing on the screen.
It’s six in the morning, so I’ve had a few hours of sleep at least. I take a deep breath and answer it, taking the yellow silk robe that’s hanging inside the wardrobe.
Half of my clothes have since been moved from my apartment to Lorenzo’s place.
I prepare myself, whether for Vince’s scolding or encouragement.
“Dad’s dead.”
My body goes stiff.
Dad’s dead.
Dead.
“Lily?”
“I’m here. I— I—”
“You need to come home,” he says. “Do you need me to pick you up?”
A dark laugh creeps from me, and it’s so unhinged, I begin weeping instead as my heart shatters into two. Oh God, he didn’t listen to me. Lorenzo went behind my back, and I know deep within my heart that my father is dead because of the only man I’ve ever loved.
I thought last night he understood that we’d created a pocket of peace and a safe space where I could decide how I’d pave my next step forward with his support, but instead he… betrayed me.
“I can manage.” I clear my throat. “I’ll see you soon.”
I hang up the phone, my hand dropping to my side as I numbly walk toward the bedroom door. When I open it, he’s there, almost as if waiting, sitting on the floor, back against the wall, his head hanging between his shoulders.
I stand at the door, facing the man I genuinely thought I loved only moments ago, but when he raises his head to meet my eyes, I see the answer before asking the question.
“Did you kill my father?” I ask with an eerie calm that terrifies me. Because only I can hear the breaking of my heart inside.
“Yes,” he replies clinically.
I slowly nod, finally acknowledging the decision he’s made. I might’ve hated my father, but it didn’t mean I necessarily wanted him dead. Did I?
Lorenzo didn’t give me time to fight this, to make decisions of my own. He took that away from me, even when I asked him not to. “I specifically told you not to kill my father. You’re fucked-up, you know that? You’d rather choose murder over us?”
His betrayal hurts, cuts deeper than any knife. Another boundary broken, another request ignored. Lorenzo will never hear me, and a knot of shock and pain twists in my stomach as it slowly sinks in that my father is dead.
“I choose your safety over us,” he says without remorse.
“Oh, you’re so fucking high and mighty, aren’t you?” I scream, hating that superior air he holds around himself like fucking armor. My fists tremble as tears tumble down my face. This is so fucked-up; I’m mourning him more than my father’s death.
“Don’t hate me for having the courage to do something you could never have done.”
My eyebrows practically hit my hairline, and I storm forward. “Oh, so you think because you murdered my father, you’re in the right now?”
He stands, matching my pose. “I know you’ll hate me forever, and I’ve come to terms with that. I’m not going to fight you.”
I scoff. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You sweep into my life for a hot minute and think you know me, know my wounds, know my family. You fucking know nothing!” I shriek, everything falling apart around me.
He’s the first person I let in, even when I knew I shouldn’t.
The first person I’ve laughed so freely around.
The first person who made me feel safe.
And I hate the fact that none of these things change, even now.
“You betrayed me.” My voice trembles.
“Yes. Whether you think I know you or not, Lily, I’ve only ever done these things for you.”
I laugh, crazed, sleep-deprived, and so sick of giving people the benefit of the doubt.
I shove at him, and he does nothing. I shove again, looking for some kind of fight instead of him just rolling over and taking it.
“Stop treating me like some fragile thing! Fight back!” I yell.
He’s always told me what’s on his mind. Only ever fought with me during our turbulent time together, and now he’s rolling over and taking my every scathing word. “I hate you so much!”
I shove again, and he still says nothing. I’m so mad. He took away my answers, took away my resolve, took away my choice to deal with my father myself.
I’m so sick of fighting, of crying, of running.
All of these emotions that he brought to the surface have nowhere to go.
Now I have no choice but to confront them.
Knowing that I’ll step back into my childhood home, haunted by memories I’ve tried to forget, with the knowledge that the man I thought I loved entered it like a wraith to hurt my family.
And how I still hate myself for defending my father even after all he’s done.
I take a step back, awkwardly rolling my ankle.
His hand shoots out to steady me, and I slap it away.
“Don’t touch me!” The hatred that spills from my lips is vile.
“Ever again! You say I’m the coward, but you’re no better.
You told me that you love me only to hurt me within the next breath!
Go back to your master, Lorenzo. Go get your praise for what a good job you’ve done. I don’t need your services anymore.”
His jaw tightens, but he remains still.
For once, I just want to stand on my own two feet.
I go to the wardrobe, snagging the first dress I spot. I look like shit, and the bruise on my face is darkening, but it’s as good as it gets right now.
Let this ugly family secret be exposed. Let the truth of that haunted fucking house come to life.
He watches me as I pluck up the keys to his favorite Lamborghini, storm out to the garage, start the car, then pull out of his driveway, making sure to scrape the side of the vehicle along the metal gates as I leave.
I slam on the gas, and the moment I look through the rearview mirror, I scream, “Of fucking course!”
Sky trails me on his motorcycle. The thought of slamming on the brakes and watching him barrel over the back of the car comes to mind, and it terrifies me.
I don’t want to become a vile, hateful thing, the same as my father.
But there’s just so much hurt, and I don’t even know where to begin to piece myself back together. So, I allow him to follow me, simply grateful that it’s anyone but Lorenzo.
Anyone can stand by my side but him.