Redeemed (Dirty Air #4)(102)

He nods, becoming visibly uncomfortable as my scowl deepens.

“And that’s why you pounced on me when I got back. And asked me a hundred questions. You knew, even then.”

He lets out a deep breath. “Yes.”

I place a hand on the bed, needing the stability. “And what did you do when you realized he didn’t tell me the truth?”

“I went over there and told him that he had no choice but to tell you the real story. That you have the right to know that your dad passed away. The man wanted to pretend he was your father permanently for fuck’s sake. Without me, who knows what he would’ve done. I was only doing what I thought was the best choice to make sure you heard it from the right person.”

“You should’ve told me the moment you found out. I thought we were close. That we got one another.” My voice breaks, matching the feeling inside of me. Everything hurts as I manage my thoughts.

“Of course we are close. I love you. There’s nothing closer than that.” He takes a step toward me.

I take one back, hitting the nightstand with my butt. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have pretended to my face that Matteo was my dad. I told you stories about him. We laughed about the craziness he shared with me. How did you sit there and act like you didn’t know all this time?”

He throws his hands in the air. “I was trying to protect you! I thought it would be better to hear it from him rather than me.”

“Why?”

“Because I was afraid to hurt you. I knew it would destroy you to learn about your dad from me.”

“Well, it turns out your choice hurt me a hell of a lot more.”

“Please, just give me a chance to explain my reasoning.”

I shake my head. “No. I can’t do this right now. I need space.”

“You told me you wouldn’t leave me.”

“That was before I found out you could lie straight to my face and not even flinch while doing it. I feel like a fool for trusting you. Do you even know how hard that is for someone like me? Or how painful it is to admit I love someone? But I should’ve expected this. You grew up surrounded by love while I grew up being manipulated by it.”

He starts to speak, but I cut him off. “I can’t stay here anymore.”

“You’re going back to America?” Panic floods his voice.

“No. Not yet. I need to speak to Matteo more and learn about my dad.”

He flinches.

Yeah, asshole, I’m not staying here because of you. “But just because I’m staying doesn’t mean I want to live here after knowing what you did.”

He fists his hands by his sides as if he needs to restrain himself. “Don’t go. Please.”

I zip up my suitcase and tug it off the bed, ignoring him.

“Chloe, stop. Please.” His voice croaks. “You should stay here. I’ll go and stay somewhere else. I don’t give a shit.”

I halt, my hand frozen on the luggage handle. “What?” Why would he offer something like that?

“I want you to stay here. I know you don’t entirely believe me right now, but I do love you and I don’t want you staying in some hotel. This will always be your home if you want it. Plus, it gives you access to see Matteo at any time.”

“I don’t want that right now.”

“But you might, and at least you’ll be a short walk away. And it’s free.” He stumbles over his words, as if he needs to get them all out before I bolt for the exit.

I want to scream at him to stop being caring. It’s the last thing my vulnerable heart needs, but I give in. He hooked me with the word free.

“Fine. I’m going to stay solely because I need to save the money for my return ticket back home. That’s it.”

His head drops, but he nods.

“You’re actually not going to sleep here?” I still can’t believe it.

“No. I’ll go somewhere else.”

I nod my head and turn back toward my luggage. “Okay.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “Will you give me a chance to fix this?”

I don’t bother looking in his direction. “People aren’t like your cars. You can’t repair what’s too broken beyond repair.”

“I would’ve said the same thing about myself, but then you came along. I’m not going to tell you I’m sorry. I’m going to show it.”

I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out. A wave of exhaustion hits me and my shoulders drop. Staying strong is taking its toll.

He lets out a sigh. His footsteps fade away into the distance. It doesn’t take long for the lock at the front door to turn. Instead of relief hitting me in Santiago’s absence, a wave of sadness washes over me.

I crawl onto the bed and curl into a ball. Today’s events weigh heavily inside of my chest. Just when I thought everything was going right in my life, God threw a bomb in my lap and expected me to disable it.

My dad is dead, Santiago knew and didn’t say anything to me, and the whole reason I came to Italy in the first place is pointless.

I don’t know what to do from here, but I do know one thing. I hate liars, and I somehow fell in love with the best one.





“Shut the fuck up! This can’t be real,” Brooke yells into her phone.