of envy for not doing more with my life to make our grandfather proud before he died. Then I remembered hating myself for having such a horrible emotion during such an important end of life moment for him. I was so twisted up in my own head that I didn’t truly take in the stadium atmosphere like I should have.
This moment right here at Tower Park…it feels like a second chance.
Santino walks slowly toward me, his hands shoved in his denim pockets like this is just another day at the office for him. “Pretty great, right?”
I nod and feel a tight knot forming in my throat. “Is it weird that I want to cry?”
His face falls with concern. “Depends on why you want to cry, I guess.”
I inhale deeply and try to compose myself, my eyes burning with unshed tears. “It’s just overwhelming.”
“What is?”
“Life,” I reply honestly, my chin quivering as I gaze at him through watery eyes. “I missed so much of it when I was drinking all the time. And then I became so hyper-focused on getting sober that I missed out on that span of time as well. It wasn’t until my mum called and told me Freya almost lost the baby,” my voice cracks as the memory of a call that still haunts my dreams plays on repeat in my mind. “She called and told me they were at the hospital and it was this strange sense of déjà vu that scared me so much, it woke me up.”
I run a trembling hand through my hair, staring up at the bright lights that are blurry from my tears. “I had so much tunnel-vision on my own journey that I was missing out on everyone else’s. My family. People who loved me and supported me through my darkest days. They were all dealing with their own personal horrors, and I was so self-absorbed my own brother didn’t feel like he could call and tell me about the most terrifying moment of his life.”
Memories of my own past flood in my mind as tears stream freely down my face. I swipe them away, trying to collect myself because this is not the time nor the place to be having a crisis of conscience.
“Helping them now…this is my chance to make up for lost time.” I clear my throat and steel myself to look brave and unbothered. “Which is why these past few weeks, being back here in London…it feels like the first time I’ve allowed myself to really live, not just survive.” I do a slow spin, pointing at the grand space all around me. “And it’s overwhelming because everything is so clear and so present, and I can see it all so vividly. It makes me feel sad for everything I missed out on before.”
Santino’s face bends with sympathy. “You’re here now, though, right?” he asks softly.
“I guess,” I shrug, still hating myself for the choices of my past.
He walks towards me. “You are here, Tilly. You’re here, and you’re doing great. You’re helping out your brother and Freya. You’re doing an incredible job with Freya’s business. Now is what matters, remember? Isn’t that one of your rules? No talking about the past. That includes self-loathing past choices, okay?”
My chin quivers as Santino reaches out to rub my shoulder. It’s a comforting, gentle caress that makes me realise it’s been ages since I’ve been vulnerable like this in front of anyone. Even my brother and parents don’t see me like this. I always told them just enough so they wouldn’t worry, but I never truly revealed all that I experienced.
I couldn’t. I was too ashamed.
“Come here,” Santino says, grabbing my arm and pulling me close.
“I’m fine,” I reply, sniffing loudly and trying to force my tears to retreat.
“Of course, you’re fine,” he states firmly and before I know what’s happening, he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug.
My hands flop down by my sides as I mentally resist his embrace. But as soon as his familiar scent invades my nose, tiny flickers of memories come pouring into my mind. Moments in Santino’s flat, my flat, moments where he would look at me from across a crowded pub and all I wanted to do was leave with him and never look back.
We were just sex on the surface, but the fact that I have recollections of the connection we shared, that pull…it makes me grateful. Like I didn’t completely black out my entire history.
He cups the