SHE IS THE MAFIA (BOOK#2)

Chapter 6

Dear Tempest,
I have counted the days since you left, two weeks turning into two years, and two years turned into six. There is not a day that goes by where I didn't hope you would walk through these doors to visit me. Frank tells me you are well. He tells me you graduated and you're working hard. Hearing this brings joy into my failing heart. But as my life is coming to an end, I write you this letter as my last apology. Tempest, no one deserved what I put you through. I know you will never have the heart to forgive me, and I have come to accept it. I don't deserve your mercy. I understand how you must have felt, however, to be alone in this vast world without anyone to consider your family. I know how much my action must have affected your personality, your cold demeanor, but if there is one thing, I know... you are a kind-hearted young lady underneath all the layers of disappointment and betrayal. I was wrong to put wealth and fortune above you. You were the best thing that has ever happened to me. Your mother is my first daughter, and you being my first grandchild. I selfishly loved you both to see how horrible I was to sit back and watch a man ruin both of you. You got your revenge, to be exact. You showed me how devastatingly lonely it is to be in your shoes. I am truly sorry, for all of my existence and being. I hope one day you find people to call your own because family is no longer about blood, but about trust and strong love. I wish you nothing but the best. To me, you will always be Evangeline, the good news and the bearer of good news. The side of you people rarely ever see.

I love you, Evangeline.

Sincerely,

Ernest Moore

P.S. You will also find in the compartment a ruby ring. It is a family heirloom from your grandmother's side, passed down to your mother. If Leila was still alive, she would have given it to you, so please... take it and wear it.  

I sit and stare at the deep red, velvet box that rests next to the letter.
I swallow hard to contain myself as my vision starts to blur.

My hands shake as they open the compartment and reveal a sparkling ruby gemmed ring. I imagine how beautiful it must have looked on my mother's fingers. I purse my lips as a tear rolls down my cheek.

Things could have been so different. 
I could have been so different.

I take the ring and slip it on each finger, trying to see which best fits. 
It fits perfectly on my middle finger, on my right hand. The left middle finger has a daisy tattoo in remembrance of my mother, so I don't want that to get covered. The ring glistens in the light as if it's finally found its place. 

Something inside me breaks, shift wrongly.
I press a hand against my mouth as tears start streaming down my face. I never kept anything that belonged to my mother when I left the old house. I didn't want to pain myself, and I wanted to look tough. I didn't want to seem sentimental or soft hanging on to someone who has no chance of returning. I was always about moving forward from the past, not sulking on it. I guess that's what makes it hard for me to express myself in other forms besides anger. I was young and naive.

And now, I am breaking those habits.
and I am breaking.

I don't regret the things I did. I don't regret leaving my grandfather here to rot and die on his own, but I can't help but think if I made the right choice. I proved my point, but it didn't make me any better than him. 

I lay my head on my desk and look out my bedroom window where a sliver of the moon shines. Allow me to confess to the moon.

There were days where I searched for tickets for London, days where I sat at the airport ready to return. There were days I thought about calling my grandfather. Guilt has a way of eating at you because I remember how my mother looked in her last days. The paleness of her face, how quickly death had aged her. She constantly reached out for me, touched my warm skin against her cold hands. It was like she was trying to absorb a little bit of life, just to stay with me a little while longer. My mother only ever lived for me, and she wanted to fight to stay for me. I remember she used to tell me to stay by her side at all costs. On my high school graduation day, I wore my cap and gown and sat next to her. I missed the entire ceremony just to watch her sleep peacefully. I cried quietly knowing I was about to lose her, and nothing else mattered. But what killed me was when she said, no one deserves to die alone. She hoped I would never die alone.