Page 52 of Alfie: Part One

He nodded slowly, tracing his fingers over my chest. “Yeah. We could do that.” He smirked a little. “I already told my ma about’chu.”

I smiled. “Oh yeah?”

He nodded again, and he dipped down and kissed me. “I said…Ma, can you fuckin’ believe it? I’m in love.” He made me shiver with that one. “I met a man from Philly in Tinseltown.”

I chuckled and deepened the kiss. “I love you an absurd amount, baby.”

I drained my whiskey and left the glass in the sink.

Maybe we’d struck gold when our plans had changed drastically—numerous times. From the moment we’d decided to meet each other’s parents, we waited two whole years for it to actually happen. Almost as if the universe was trying to tell us something—an engagement or issue always interfered. I was promoted and had to work more, Alfie landed a big modeling gig, my parents were out of the country on a long vacation, his parents came down with the flu, I had a work trip, Alfie had to cover for his boss at the bar, it just wasn’t the right time…

When we finally managed to get on a plane together, we were engaged and had already decided to look into surrogacy soon. We’d been living together. We’d had our whole lives planned out.

Was I ever going to stop mourning our shattered dreams?

When Alfie said everything in LA had been real, I was desperate to believe him. I knew what he meant; I knew the core of us had been genuine. Even when we’d moved back here. I wasn’t so jaded to think everything was a lie. Although, it felt like it sometimes.

If he hadn’t cared, he wouldn’t have sent me those messages with such urgency for me to understand that his heart had been in the right place.

I wasn’t sure it mattered.

Right now, I was too exhausted to care one way or another.

Could you hate a liar if he’d felt forced to lie?

Oh, I could. Even if I ended up owing him a dozen apologies, he’d kept too much from me.

I trudged up the stairs after shutting off the lights and activating the alarm system, and I avoided looking at our photo wall.Myphoto wall. Not ours. Just our kids. Some of my nieces and nephews. My side of the family. Not his.

We could put the whole family bullshit aside. I was mature enough to understand ripple effects and how circumstances could cause disasters. He wasn’t innocent, and I wasn’t either. Fine. But his job? How the hell could he move out here with me, with our family, and accept a job with a goddamn mobster?

Was it truly only about the money?

I doubted it.

I buried myself in work the next couple of days—and I studiously ignored any calls and messages from my mother and sisters. By now, I was sure my argument with them had made rounds in the family.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized I’d been an asshole to dismiss Alfie’s fears. My mother and sisters lived and breathed gossip, and they loved to judge others. Why would that magically exclude Alfie? Why would I, even for a second, assume they’d accept him wholeheartedly? Just because I had?

I got stuck in traffic on my way home on Tuesday, and it was as predictable as my work had become. I still enjoyed my position, but it’d been a long time since anything exciting had happened. The show I produced evolved at a snail’s pace, just enough to ensure decent ratings, and then we threw specials intothe mix—or controversial topics—to create headlines when we needed a boost.

It was the second most popular morning show in Pennsylvania, the fourth most popular on the East Coast, and its accompanying podcast was on the rise in the ranks as well. But overall, I missed the excitement of struggling. The show was…comfortable. Fairly unthreatened. A Philadelphia staple that wasn’t going anywhere.

I hit another standstill and brought out my phone.

I’d become obsessed with checking Alfie’s Instagram.

I was pathetic.

You heartbreaking little liar.

A heartbreaking little liar who’d thankfully taken Trip for a haircut today. Trip smiled proudly in the picture and held up a sticker he’d received at the salon. Same crew cut like always, a little longer on the sides and messy up top, “Like Dad’s.” Like Alfie’s.

I hit the heart-button and made sure to leave a comment for our boy.

Very handsome. Please tell him to stop growing up so fast.

I wasn’t the only one who’d left a mark. Giulia had gushed over how cute Trip was, and so had Emilia O’Shea. And Nessa Murray…