Chapter 182 185

Chapter 182 185
But where are Lucio and Evie?

I circle the church, wondering where they’ve gone. No sign. No trace.

Giving up, I decide to go back inside and wait—when my phone starts ringing.

“Hi,” I say, picking up without checking my screen first. “Lucio?”

“It’s Enzo.”

“Oh. Hi, Enzo. What’s up?”

He hesitates for a second. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m parked right outside the church. In the black sedan. When you’re finished in there, I’ll drive you home.”

I frown. “Lucio’s here.”

Another hesitation. “Oh, uh, I don’t think so.”

“Excuse me?”

“Lucio left,” Enzo tells me. “He told me to bring you home when the funeral’s over.”

He’d left.

He’d left me here alone.

I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am.

But I’m feeling more than just surprised. I’m feeling abandoned.

He left me when I need him most.

I bite back the angry tears and head back into the church for the service. I find Vanessa sitting in one of the middle pews and slide in next to her.

“You okay?” she asks, taking stock of my expression.

“Not really.”

“You’re taking this pretty hard,” she observes with mild surprise.

“It’s not that,” I say. “Well, sort of. But Lucio left.”

Vanessa’s head swivels in my direction. “He left?”

“Took Evie and bolted,” I say, aware of how bitter I sound.

Why do I keep doing this?

I pride myself on being independent. I pride myself on being able to say I don’t rely on anybody, least of all a man.

And yet here I am.

Crushed that Lucio has left me to suffer alone.

“Maybe he just went to get some air,” Vanessa suggests.

“No, Enzo just called me. He’s my ride back to the compound.”

“Oh, well… I wouldn’t read too much into it,” she offers.

“Really?” I snap, glaring at her. “You’re telling me not to read too much into it? You’re the queen of reading too much into things.”

She raises her eyebrows, and immediately, I feel bad.

I sigh. “I’m sorry, Vanessa. I’m just…”

“It’s okay,” she says, patting my hand. “I get it. It’s been a rough few days.”

The service starts, but I’m not really paying attention. And I know Vanessa isn’t, either.

“You wanna scoot to the back?” she asks.

“Good idea.”

We excuse ourselves and move to the rear of the church. We sit far enough away from the rest of the mourners that our conversation won’t be over heard.

Vanessa reaches out and squeezes my hand.

“You can’t expect him to understand, you know,” she says gently.

“I know. I just…”

“Want him to anyway?”

“Is that completely unreasonable of me?”

Vanessa mulls over that for a moment. “Kinda.”

I almost smile. I’ve always been able to count on Vanessa for honesty.

“He’s a different kind of man than you’re used to, Charlotte,” she says. “He’s harder. Tougher. Rougher around the edges.”

“Wow,” I say. “You said that without salivating.”

She smiles sadly. “Well, it is a funeral.”

I turn to the pulpit where the priest is wrapping up his sermon. I watch as Silvia is helped up on the raised dais. She starts talking into the podium microphone about Xander.

What a good son he was.

What a selfless man he was.

What an honest and upstanding citizen he was.

It makes me sick to my stomach.

I glance at Vanessa and gesture for her to follow me. Then we slip out of the church completely.

I suddenly feel like I can breathe again.

“Jesus,” I breathe.

“You praying now?”

Loud, anxious laughter bubbles to my lips. Vanessa looks at me in alarm and then glances back nervously at the church door.

“I just couldn’t hear the rest of that,” I admit once I settle back down. “It’s all bullshit.”

“You can’t blame his mother for lying about him,” Vanessa says with a shrug.

“That’s the thing. She wasn’t lying. She just bought into Xander’s act. She believes he was a good man.”

“Ah, the naïve purity of a mother’s love,” Vanessa sighs. “Don’t you wish we had parents like that?”

I smile bitterly.

This is the whole reason Vanessa and I bonded in the first place. She gets me. I get her.

We came from similar situations. The unloved daughters of fathers who didn’t know we existed and mothers who never wanted to have us in the first place.

Vanessa understands what it means to crave love and affection.

She understands why sometimes the stupid decisions seem worth it if it means you can steal a little security.

I’d done exactly that with Xander.

And she hadn’t judged me for it.

And now…?

Am I doing it again with Lucio?

“What’s on your mind?” Vanessa asks.

“All the bad decisions I’ve ever made,” I admit honestly.

She chuckles. “Long list, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Been there, done that,” she replies. “So no judgement from me.”

I lean into her a little, head resting on her shoulder.

“I always told myself I wouldn’t be like my mother,” I say, looking up to the stained glass glowing in the sunlight. “But without even noticing, I feel like I’m repeating her patterns.”

“In what way?” Vanessa asks curiously.

“She never stood on her own two feet,” I explain. “She always relied on men to save her. Like some damsel in distress. And now here I am. Doing the same thing.”

“It’s hard not to be a damsel where Lucio is concerned,” Vanessa points out. “That man was made to be the knight in shining armor. Well, he’s more of an asshole than the fairy tales usually suggest. But you get what I’m saying.”

“Not the point,” I say impatiently. “The point is that I shouldn’t be relying on him so much. If I just stuck to my rules, then I wouldn’t be so upset right now that he left.”

Vanessa looks at me with a pointed expression that I don’t understand.

“What?” I prod.

“Have you considered the fact that maybe this has less to do with relying on Lucio and more to do with being in love with him?” she asks.

I stare at her for several seconds as my brain processes what she’s just said.

“Don’t deny it. It’s plain as day.”

I blink in confusion. Vanessa keeps pushing, though.

“How do you feel about Lucio, Charlotte?” she asks me directly. “Tell me. No bullshit. Straight up.”

“H—he’s been good to me,” I stutter.

Vanessa sighs. “C’mon, babe, I’m not interviewing you,” she says. “I’m your best friend. You don’t have to give me the politically correct answers. Just tell me what you feel.”

“I don’t know how I feel.”

“Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’ve known each other a long time. I know you. And I know when you’re lying.”