should feel.
My heart aches.
Romeo walks up the front stairs and opens the front door, yelling out, “Momma?”
A voice echoes through the house. The sweetest voice I’ve ever heard. “Romeo? Honey, is that you?”
Honey.
I can hear it even before I see it—this woman adores her son.
A woman comes around the corner, her eyes lighting up when she sees her son. She stretches out her arms, throwing them up around his neck as she hugs him tightly. She’s only tiny, petite, and very beautiful for her age. Her dark hair is starting to grey, but it’s exceptionally beautiful, long and thick. Her skin is only slightly showing signs of aging, and she has the most incredible green eyes I’ve ever seen. She’s beautiful in a way very few are.
She looks to all of us, and slowly releases Romeo.
Her eyes fall on me and widen. She places a hand over her mouth and starts slowly moving toward me. “Well, as I live and breathe ... You look just like your momma.”
A lump forms in my throat. I don’t have a great deal of memories about my momma, she died before I could create enough of them. I do know she was beautiful, and from what I recall, a beautiful soul with so much love to give. She adored her children, and she would have done anything for us. I never would have guessed that Manny didn’t belong to her, because she loved him in a way that was unconditional.
I step forward as Romeo’s mom reaches me, and when her hands comes out and touches my cheek, the urge to cry and hug her is incredibly intense. She releases me and looks to Romeo. “You found her.”
“Yeah, Momma, I found her. I told her everything. She’s having a hard time with it all and wanted to come and talk to you.”
She looks back to me. “This must be very confusing for you. Come in, sit down. Let me get you a drink. Who are your friends?”
“This is Cohen and Alarick,” I say, my voice choking up.
“Strapping gentleman they are, come in.”
She’s beautiful.
So damned beautiful.
The presence of two large bikers does not bother her in the slightest. She invites them into her home as if she’s known them a lifetime.
“Romeo, show them to the living room, and I will fetch some tea.”
I glance at Cohen and his expression, which was hard as a rock the entire way here, has softened a little.
Maybe, just maybe, he’s seeing what I’m seeing.
This might be real after all.
I walk into the living area and over to the mantel where a heap of photos are set in frames. I let my eyes rake over them, feeling a smile pull at the corners of my mouth. Romeo, gosh, he’s identical to Manny. Looking at the pictures, I’d swear it was him. It makes my heart ache for my brother, who is gone. Not because we were close, but because I see now he could have had such a different life. A life not influenced by my father, a life that would have taught him the kind of love he simply didn’t know.
Every photo is of Romeo and his mom.
You can see exactly how close the two of them are.
I turn and see Romeo standing behind me, his eyes on the photos, too.
“It’s like looking at Manny, it’s quite overwhelming,” I admit.
“What was he like? My brother?” Romeo asks, his eyes moving to mine now.
“He was ... He was a child raised by a man who taught him all the wrong things in life. He was strong, though. Really strong. And he was smart as hell.”
Romeo opens his mouth to say something, but his momma comes in with a tray full of cups, tea, sugar, and cream. She places it down on the coffee table and ushers me to the chair. “Sit, let us talk.”
I go over and sit down beside Cohen, preparing myself a cup of tea.
“What is your name?” I ask her, now just realizing that nobody has told me her name.
“My name is Marcella.”
Marcella. Beautiful.
“It’s wonderful to meet you, Marcella. I’m Aviana.”
She smiles. “I know who you are, my darling.”
I give her a small smile and sip my tea.
“I’m sure you’ve got many questions, feel free to ask when you are ready,” she tells me, making herself a cup of tea and sitting back in the chair.
“You ... you had a relationship with my father. Can you tell me about that, please?”
Marcella’s face flashes with pain, and I know