The Right Choice.

Epilogue: The Right Choice.

1 Month Later.

"This is bullshit!" I barked as I blew the candles off the two layer cake with pink frosting, that had a giant 25 sign hanging above it. "Language dear, now Smile" My mom's squeal came from beside me as Rima continued taking pictures of us standing over the giant tease of a cake. I glared at the camera one more time as the flash burned my eyeballs, yet again.

"Quit bitchin' bitch! Now cut the cake, mama wants some sugar" Rima handed me the knife ignoring the death stare from my mom, "Oh don't give that look Lady Genevieve. I only wanted to give you the first piece" Rima gave her best innocent angel smile to my mom.

"But this is bullshit. Why did you bring me a cake knowing damn well I couldn't eat it? Worst birthday Ever!" I stomped my foot and crossed my arms over my chest like a child, resulting in my mom taking the knife and cutting everyone a piece of this tease in front of me.

It's been about a week since Lorenzo and I came back from Italy. After his father shot me, I lost a lot of blood. I barely made it alive, I didn't think I was going to. When the doctors informed  Lorenzo I might die from blood loss, he flew my mother in immediately.

3 blood bags and 6 hours later, I came out of surgery. Doctor said I shouldn't eat anything solid for like the first three months after surgery since I had a hole in my intestines. I stayed in Italy with my mom and Lorenzo for the next three weeks until I was able to fly again.

The entire time, Lorenzo took care of me better than I could ever ask for. He brought my mom and I to his mother's house and brought in a nurse for me. Staying together all that time helped him confront my mom and forgive her for her past with his father. It brought them closer. She even went with him to Emiliano's burial, even after knowing everything that happened because I was still on bed rest. 

Right now, we were back in Seattle at Lorenzo's mansion where they surprised me with a birthday party even though I specifically asked them not to. I wasn't gonna be able to eat cake, Or get wasted. What was the point of a party?

This is so depressing.

"Sweetie, I know you don't wanna hear this right now but this is seriously the best chocolate cake I've ever tasted in my life!"

"Way better than any store, Sandra you rock. You should have a cook book or something"

My mom and Rima gushed as they inhaled the cake, they finished so fast I barely had time to blink away the irritation I felt. It was my party yet I couldn't enjoy it. Stupid bullet that punched a hole in my intestine.

"Thank you, Rima. But I don't think I am That good of a cook, you're too nice" Sandra humbly commented and bowed her head down, I went up to her and held her by the shoulders, "Non sense, Sandra. A cook book is actually a great idea, you can write all your family's Italian recipes from when you were in Italy. It can't get any more authentic than that" I encouraged and my mom cosigned with me,

"You will be a success, Sandra I have no doubt about that. Oh I can help you with advertising, I have tons of friends who own PR companies and tv stations"

"Come on, don't you wanna be like an Italian Marth Stewart?" Rima jabbed Sandra's shoulder, causing her to laugh and blush. Her dark blonde hair bounced on her shoulders before it fell again reaching her waist. She was so pretty, like a Barbie doll.

"Well, I do love Miss Stewart"

We all laughed as the boys came back in the living room with bags and boxes, neatly wrapped in colorful wrapping papers and bows. They all left after I cut the cake and pictures were taken. Out of the three men my eyes zeroed in on one. The one who had a soft smile as he approached me. He placed the bag he was holding down and came to me, offering me his arms, I was already beaming at the sight of him