Page 113 of Sing For Us

“I went to the mosque she used to visit, and I went there because I wanted to feel close to her.”

I lower my voice.

“And I hated myself for needing that. I prayed that night not because I believed in God, but because she did.”

I can’t see her, but I hear Lana snickering.

I probably shattered her entire belief, and mine. Religion never resonated with me, especially after my mother died of a horrible disease. She suffered for years, even though she was an incredibly kind person. Then you have Dario, a man who hasn’t suffered at all. And he was the worst kind of person—a stone-cold psychopath.

And the next thing I tell Lana proves my theory.

“It was the only connection I had left to her because my father destroyed everything after she died. He took all her belongings and taunted me with the fact that only he knew where they were. Fucker probably burned them.”

The wound I was trying to hide is now wide open. The piece of myself I thought was too fragile for anyone to see.

But Lana sees me.

I turn to look at her, and for the first time in a long time, I’m not looking at my enemy.

I am looking at someone who has lost everything too.

Just like me.

“Your dad is a dickhead and should die a horrible death. I bet he smells like old eggs as well,” she says all of that so nonchalantly I can’t help but laugh. I laugh so hard my stomach is starting to hurt, and Lana follows suit. Her sweet laughter comes from her belly, and we double down onto the ground.

I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.

Once our laughing fit has passed, we both stand up and take a deep breath. The breath that we exhale explains what we’re feeling right now—relief. That unbridled joy that we have finally been honest not only with each other, but with ourselves as well.

I know that she’s going to need time to think about what I told her and believing me won’t come easily—but I’m a patient man. She’ll come around. I hope that when she does, she’ll find inner peace so she can live her life to the fullest.

We walk back to my villa, and once we’re inside, I go to the closet in my living room and take the box with Dario’s DNA to bring to a friend.

“Ladies, I’m off. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

They wave me off, and I catch the gleam in Lana’s eyes.

Maybe, just maybe, we’ll be good.

Chapter forty-four

Lana

When I enter his villa, Sara’s sitting at the kitchen counter.

“Come here. I made you coffee.” I don’t dare to defy her menacing tone. So I do what I’m told—I sit down and sip on my coffee.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush; I still don’t know if I trust you because of Noa.”

“I respect that.” And I really do. In this lifetime, you can only be blessed with a set of loyal friends just once. Noa’s keeping his friends close, and they are counting on him as well. The dynamic between them isn’t unquestioning loyalty; it has been building since childhood and adulthood. Their mutual love for one another has cemented itself years ago, and it’ll never waver. Broken bonds aren’t something these people will ever have to experience.

And I love that for them.

“I’d judge you if you trusted me.” My little joke makes us both laugh, and I feel more at ease. “I want to ask you about Emma.”

“Lana, I don’t know. It’s not my place to tell you.” I place my hand on Sara’s hand, and I’m pleading with my eyes for her to tell me.

“Please. When we talked earlier, he told me things that made me see him in a different light. I believe that he…”