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Stuck-Up Suit



“I told you. I did things I’m not proud of.”

“Do you regret it?”

“I regret hurting you, yes.”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you regret the choice you made? Choosing a woman over your daughters? Taking a different family as your own and never looking back?”

“That’s not how it was, Soraya.”

My voice got louder. “Answer the question. Do you look back and wish you made a different choice?”

He looked down ashamed but answered honestly. “No.”

It felt like someone had sucker punched me in the stomach. “Did you ever love my mother?”

“I did. I loved her very much.”

“What if Theresa didn’t love you back?”

“What are you asking me?”

“Would you have stayed with my mother if Theresa didn’t love you back?”

“I can’t answer that, Soraya. That’s not how it was.”

“Were you and my mother happy?”

“Yes. We were at one time.”

“Until Theresa.”

“That’s not fair. It’s more complicated than that.”

I stood up. “I shouldn’t have come. This was a mistake.”

My father stood. “The mistakes were all mine, Soraya.” He looked me straight in the eyes as he spoke his next words. “I love you.”

Everything from the last few days was bubbling to the surface. It felt like there was a tsunami coming, and I was about to get sucked under if I didn’t run for it. So I did. I took off like a bat out of hell running out of his house. It wasn’t the most mature moment of my life, but there was no way I was letting that man see me cry. I flew past the framed family portraits, flung open the front door and bolted down the six-step stoop two at a time. My eyes were burning, throat felt like it was closing, and my chest constricted. I was so intent on getting away as fast as I could, that I wasn’t even paying attention to where I was going. Which is why I didn’t see the man who was standing at the curb until I was wrapped in his arms.

CHAPTER 18

GRAHAM

I BARKED AT MY DRIVER to head to Queens before I even knew her father’s address. Luckily, there was only one Venedetta in the borough, or I would have been knocking on doors. My gut told me her visit was not going to go well. Arriving on Catalpa Avenue, I had no idea if she was inside or not, so I settled in the back of my town car and waited. It wasn’t long before the front door flew open, and Soraya was barreling down the walkway toward the street. I barely made it out of the car in time to grab her; she clearly hadn’t seen me. The haunted look on her face, I wasn’t so sure she was able to see anything at all.

She struggled in my arms at first. “It’s me, Soraya.”

Her eyes seemed to come into focus. I watched as they filled with tears and then she melted into my arms. Her full weight leaned on me as I tightened my hold around her. “I have you, baby. I have you.” She made a gut-wrenching noise and then her body began to shake, tears streaming down her beautiful face. It physically hurt my heart. Seeing her like that, hearing that sound of pain come from deep within, it felt like someone had cracked open my ribs and gripped my beating heart in their hands only to nearly squeeze the life out of it.

I held her as tight as I could for a few minutes while we stood in front of the house. When I lifted my eyes and saw a man standing in the doorway watching us, a man who from the looks of him was without a doubt Frank Venedetta, I decided it was time to go. “Come on, let’s get in the car.” Soraya never looked back as I helped her into the backseat. But I did. Her father simply nodded and watched us pull away.

The ride from Queens was quiet. When her crying finally subsided, she kept her head on my shoulder and her eyes closed. I hated that this was all my fault. I’d fucked things up between us royally. Not only had the situation with Genevieve thrown a wrench into our relationship, but it had brought Soraya’s old demons back to the surface. Now she was relating who I was back to a man who had disappointed her for most of her life.

Stroking her hair, I finally broke our silence. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

“I don’t know why I went to see him. What was I expecting him to say?”

“It’s only natural. You’re trying to make sense of his choices because of everything going on.”

“I guess...”

“I know you left upset, but did he tell you anything that helped?”

“No. He said he couldn’t tell me if he would have stayed with my mother if he hadn’t met Theresa.”
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