Page 184 of Twisted Devotion

A toast. The last time I raised my glass in a toast was to mock Adora and tell her I knew that she’d killed our father at her wedding. I twisted the knife because I was angry and bitter and wanted someone else to hurt the way I was hurting.

I set the glass down. “All right. Not a toast. But I’ll say a few words.”

I look around the table. At Sofia with her kind eyes. At Matteo with his easy grin. At Vincenzo who’s watching me with suspicion. At Adora, whose eyes are flickering with wariness.

At Mina and Leon.

“Family didn’t mean much to me for a long time,” I say. “There were too many ghosts in our house, haunting me and my sister.” I meet Adora’s eyes. “We survived, but we did it alone. And I’m sorry that I made you do it alone, Adora.”

Adora’s lip trembles.

“We can’t change the past,” I continue. “We can’t undo the things we did or didn’t do. But I want family to mean everything in the future. And I consider everyone at this table family.”

Adora’s tears spill over. She gets up from her chair and comes around the table. I stand to meet her, and she throws her arms around me.

“I’m sorry too,” she whispers. “For so much. I shouldn’t have shut you out.”

“You were a child. We both did the best we could.” I hold her tight, and then whisper in her ear, “I’m jealous you got to Dad first. But if it had to be anyone else who killed him, I’m glad it was you.”

She pulls back and wipes her eyes, smiling. “And I’m glad you’re happy. Finally.”

“Me too.”

We sit back down. Matteo breaks the tension by asking Leon if he wants pasta, and suddenly everyone is talking and laughing again.

Mina’s hand finds mine under the table and squeezes.

I look at her, and she’s smiling. Not the careful, guarded smile she used to give me. But a real one, open and warm and full of love.

“This is wonderful,” she says softly.

“It is.”

Leon tugs on my sleeve. “Papa, can I have more cheese?”

“Of course.” I reach for the grater, a smile on my lips because my son asked me for something, and it’s one of the greatest pleasures I’ve ever known to fulfil that want.

I’m still getting used to it, that’s for certain. I’m sitting at a table with my sister and her family, with the woman I love and the son we created together, with another baby on the way.

The ghosts are still there. The scars don’t disappear just because you want them to, but they’re fading. For the first time in my life, I’m not just surviving. I’m living.

Sofia raises her piece of garlic bread. “Perhaps we can all wish each other happiness with this? To family.”

Everyone grabs a piece of garlic bread and taps them together, and it feels silly, but it also feels right.

“To family.” Everyone echoes the sentiment, and we take a bite from our bread.

Under the table, Mina’s hand is still in mine.

And I’m never letting go.