“I’m not even sure where I went wrong. It started off innocently enough. I admit, at first the thought of trading his story for my dream job was tempting. May have even thought I could do it, I wanted the job so damn badly. But the more time I spent with him, the harder I fell. Then I talked myself into things to avoid dealing with it. For a while there, I actually had myself believing it wasn’t true. That I could be the superhero, prove the truth to the paper, kill the story, and get the guy in the end.”
I laugh at how ridiculous it sounds to even say the words aloud. “By the time I finally admitted to myself that the story was true, I couldn’t bring myself to crush him by telling him what I was assigned to do. Every day it just got harder to come clean, yet I fell deeper at the same time.”
“You need to tell him, Liv.”
I smile at my best friend. She’s always there for me, I appreciate she’s trying to help. But she didn’t see him. That ship has sailed. “I wish it was that easy, Ally.”
“So what are you going to do, sit here and let him walk out of your life? Again.”
“I don’t know, Al, I’m not sure there is anything I can do at this point to change things. You didn’t see him.”
After another restless night of sleep, I wake feeling like a freight train ran me over. Then backed up. And ran me over again. Physical ailing aside, at least morning brings me some semblance of clarity.
“Morning, sunshine.” Ally smiles at me as she retrieves her toast from the toaster, burning her finger in the process. Bringing her finger to her mouth, her usual first aid treatment, she asks, “How are you feeling?”
“Like crap.”
She smiles. “You look like crap too.”
Leave it to Ally to make me laugh. “Thanks, friend.”
“No problem.” She grabs out a plate and tosses her half burnt toast in the general vicinity. “Want me to make you toast?”
“Ummm…no thanks. I’ll get something on my way.”
She arches her eyebrows in surprise. “You’re going out?”
“I’m going to see Delilah.”
“Vince’s mother?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
Pouring my morning coffee into a to go cup, I head toward the door. “I have no idea. I just need to talk to her.”
I manage to find my way back to Delilah’s, which is a feat, considering I’ve only been there once and my propensity for getting lost. She looks exhausted and stressed, although after hearing Vinny talk about her, I’m grateful that she seems to be sober.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course, is everything okay?” Stepping aside, Delilah looks past me, expecting someone to be with me.
“Everything’s fine. Well, no. That’s not true. Everything isn’t fine. Vinny is fine. Well, I mean he isn’t hurt or anything,” I stammer. Nice job playing it cool, Olivia, real cool. I mentally roll my eyes at myself.
“I know what you mean.” Her shoulders slump in defeat. “He was here earlier.”
Jesus, I hadn’t even thought of that. What if I’d come by and he was here, or walked in while I was sitting talking to his mother? I’m not even sure why I’ve come…there’s no way I could have explained myself to him. Surely he’d think I was working, trying to glam more for my story.
“Is he upset?”
“Angry. He’s very angry.” Tears well up in her eyes. “All I’ve ever done to that boy was let him down. I just know I’m going to lose him for what I’ve gotten him into this time.”
“I’m afraid I’ve lost him already.” I look at his frail mother. Time has not been kind. She looks older than her years, not healthy, way too thin. We come from different places, yet the two of us have a bond in the moment. Two women, loving and hurting the same man. A lone tear falls, I don’t have the energy to even try to stop it. I’m just so emotionally drained.
“Oh no. I’m sorry honey, I didn’t realize you two were having trouble.” Reaching over, she gently takes my hand into hers, “I saw the way he looked at you. Whatever happened, I’m sure you can fix it.”
“I’m not sure he can forgive me.”
“Forgive you? What could you possibly have done?”
I guess he didn’t tell her that I was the reason he found out in such an awful way the truth about his father. “It’s a long story.” I exhale loudly. “But I was the writer assigned to write the story about his real father.”
“His what?” Her already pasty face goes stark white, every bit of color disappearing almost instantly.