“I don’t need your apology,” she quipped. “I need nothing from you.”
Ouch. That didn’t feel good. Her armor was on now and I hated it. I’d gotten to see the softness that laid beneath the hard exterior and now she was hiding it from me.
“I’m sorry,” I continued. Maybe she didn’t want my apology, but she’d get it anyway. “I was thrown.”
She huffed with annoyance. “I’m going to tell you why he left me the business. Then I want you to leave.”
My brows furrowed. She wanted me to leave. Shit. This was bad.
She slid the piece of paper in front of her toward me. “Read that. It explains everything.”
I unfolded it, having absolutely no idea what this paper would reveal. It was my uncle’s handwriting. I recognized it immediately.
Dear Clara,
My name is Dennis Falco. I’m sure you’ve heard my name. I’m sure in your mind, I’m a monster; an evil person.
When I was twenty-two, I was living in Florida. I worked as a mechanic, changing oil at some dinky shop. I was wasting time. And life. I was my father’s greatest disappointment.
On a Friday, I’d had a particularly bad day. I can’t even remember why. I went to my favorite bar, found a stool, and drank my bad day away. I closed the bar down that night. They had to kick me out. When I got in my car, I turned up my stereo, rolled my windows down, and lit a cigarette for the drive home.
Ten minutes later, I hit another car head-on going sixty miles an hour. Somehow, unfairly, I survived. I broke my arm, nose, and cracked some ribs. I actually lost a few teeth.
Your mother and father, however, lost much more. They were killed on impact.
The judge took it easy on me. Times were different then. I went to rehab and had community service. I was on probation for five years.
That day changed my life. I never drank another drop. I volunteered with underprivileged kids, trying to provide a good mentor for them, hoping maybe I’d save some kid from making the same mistakes I did. I got a new job and saved up money before moving to Virginia and starting a skydiving business. It’s done well.
You were just a baby when I took your parents from you. And I know, deep down, I didn’t just take two lives that night. I took three. I took yours. I took years of love, and hugs, and memories. I know nothing I will ever do or say will make what I did that night okay. But I hope you know, I have thought about your parents every single day of my life. I have thought of you, too.
So I give you what I have. Half of a skydiving business may not sound very exciting, but I hope you see it one of two ways. In time, either you can sell it to my nephew, whom I plan to leave my business to, or keep the money and spend it on something you desire. Maybe you’ll see this as a chance. A chance to try something different. A chance to start over . . . if that’s what you need.
Whatever you decide, Clara, please know . . . I’m sorry. From the deepest part of my soul . . . I am sorry.
Sincerely,
Dennis Falco
I stared at the floor as I lay the letter on the table. I was speechless. How did I not know about this? I lifted my gaze to meet Clara’s and found she was watching me. She was angry. And hurt. Rightfully so. Never in a million years would I have thought that this was why my uncle left her half the business.
She took the letter and folded it, placing it in front of her.
“The keychain? They’re your parents’ initials?”
She nodded yes.
“Clara, I—”
“Just go, Paul,” she interrupted me.
I stayed in my seat and observed her. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t force myself to leave like this. She stood and took her mug to the sink. I had to do something, anything. My uncle killed her parents. I felt so betrayed and angry. He was my hero, my idol in so many ways. How could he have kept this from me?
Standing, I met her at the kitchen sink and tried to hug her, but she pushed me away. “Don’t,” she growled. But I didn’t listen. I pulled her to me and hugged her even when she struggled to push me off. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she seethed.
I released her and let her back away. Her eyes were glossed over with angry tears as she breathed heavily, glaring at me. Fuck. I hated seeing her like this. I rushed her before she had a chance to stop me. I picked her up and sat her on the counter. Her hands pressed against my shoulders, attempting to push me away, but I was stronger. I kissed her neck and shoulders, burying my face in her chest, and pleaded with her.