A Facade to Shatter(41)

“Thank you,” she said after a minute. “It’s very good.”

“Hard to mess up an omelet,” he said. “But I’m glad you like it.”

“I could,” she said. “Mess up an omelet, that is.”

He turned to look at her. “You can’t cook?”

She shrugged. “Not really, no. Nonna tried to teach me, but I’m hopeless with the whole thing. I get the pan too hot or not hot enough. I either burn things or make gelatinous messes. I decided it was best to step away from the kitchen and let others do the work. Better for all involved.”

“How long have you lived with your grandparents?”

“Since I was a baby,” she said, her heart aching for a different reason now. The old feelings of shame and inadequacy and confusion suffused her. “My mother died when I was little and my father sent me to my grandparents. I grew up there.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose a mother, but I can’t imagine it was easy.”

Lia shrugged. “I don’t remember her, but I know she was very beautiful. A movie star who fell in love with a handsome Sicilian and gave up everything to be with him. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out.” She moved a slice of omelet around on the plate. “My father remarried soon after she died.”

She could see him trying to work it out. Why she hadn’t gone to live with her father and his new wife. Why they’d left a baby with her grandparents. Bitterness flooded her then. She’d often wondered the same thing herself, until she was old enough to know why they didn’t take her back. She was simply unwanted.

The words poured out before she could stop them. “My father pretended like his new family was the only family he had. He did not want me. He never sent presents or called or acknowledged me the few times he did see me. It was as if I was someone else’s child rather than his.”

Zach reached for her hand, enclosed it in his big, warm one. “Lia, I’m sorry that happened to you.”

She sniffed. “Yes, well. Now you know why I had to tell you about the baby. I didn’t have a father. I wanted one.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, “I understand.”

Ridiculously, a tear spilled down her cheek. She turned her head, hoping he wouldn’t see. But of course he did. He put a finger under her chin and turned her back again. She kept her eyes downcast, hoping that if she didn’t look at him, she wouldn’t keep crying. She didn’t want to seem weak or emotional, and yet that’s exactly how she felt at the moment.

Thinking of her childhood, and the way her father had rejected her, always made her feel vulnerable. Another tear fell, and then another.

Zach wiped them away silently. She was grateful he didn’t say anything else. He just let her cry.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a minute. “I don’t know why …” Her voice trailed off into nothing as she swallowed hard to keep the knot in her throat from breaking free.

Zach let her go and scraped back from the island. Another moment and he was by her side, pulling her into the warm solidness of his body.

She pressed her face against his chest and closed her eyes. Her arms, she vaguely realized, were around his waist, holding tight. He put a hand in her hair, cupping her head. The other rubbed her back.

“It’s okay, Lia. Sometimes you have to let it out.”

She held him hard for a long time—and then she pushed away, not because she didn’t enjoy being in his arms, but because she was enjoying it too much. Her life was confusing enough already.

“I haven’t cried over this in years,” she said, not looking at him. “I’m sure it’s the hormones.”

“No doubt.”

She swiped her palms beneath her cheeks and wiped them on her leggings. Dio, how attractive she must be right now, with puffy eyes and a red nose.

“It won’t happen again,” she said fiercely. “I’m over it.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I wonder—do we ever get over the things that affect us so profoundly? Or do we just think we do?”

Lia sniffled. “I’d like to think so. Not that the past doesn’t inform our experience, but if all we do is dwell on it, how will we ever have much of a present?”

She felt a little like a hypocrite, considering how often she’d felt unwanted and out of sync with her family. But she didn’t let it rule her. Or she was determined not to. Perhaps that was a better way of saying it. It crept in from time to time, like now, but that didn’t mean it was in charge.