Chapter 10

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The attractive guy looks over my face, but I look away, remembering I don't look my best at the moment.

"Wait, Charmaine? Wow, I didn't recognize you." 

I look back at him, looking at him more closely for a moment before the realization hits me.

"Vince?" I laugh lightly. "You probably couldn't tell it was me looking the way I do."

He chuckles, "No, that's not what I meant."

Annalisa stands between us, smiling. "If you'd answer your phone, you would have known my brother's in town for the next week doing some boring seminar at NYU for his work." She scrunches her face in disgust.

"It's only boring to you since you don't understand it," He says with a slight blush on his face.

Vincent De Luca, or Vince as he prefers, has certainly changed in the three years it's been since I have last seen him. He's four years older than Annalisa and me. His hair is slightly darker than Annalisa's; and he had long hair the last time I saw him. It's now cut short and styled up and away from his face.

I notice he's also filled out; he's been working out—a lot. His arms look so much bigger than I remember.

"Charmaine..hello?" 

I snap out of my thoughts, embarrassed to be caught ogling my best friend's brother.

"I'm sorry, what?" I feel my face burning with shame.

"I said do you want to go out with us later tonight? Nothing crazy—grab dinner?" Annalisa asks, smiling at me.

"I don't know. I mean, I'm not really in the best shape to go out." I say hesitantly, mainly referring to my face.

"I think you look badass," Vince says, smiling at me.

"Okay, then that's settled. We'll see you later tonight; It was so good to see you again, Mr. Moretti. I'll call you later, Charmaine. Answer your phone!" She playfully scolds me. I tell her I will and laugh as they walk away towards their table.

I notice my Pop giving me a smirk when I turn to look at him. "What?"

"Nothing, just enjoying the show." He tells me.

"Whatever," I mutter, thankful the waitress arrives with our food, and we eat in comfortable silence.

As we make our way back to the car, I look at my dad after getting in. "Do you want to visit mom?" He looks over at me quickly and then nods his head. We try to visit her grave whenever we can, together.

Even though we couldn't go back to get her the night Gio's men killed her, we still held a service for her, her casket empty.

When I was younger, I had asked my dad why the police never contacted my Uncle about the murder of his sister. He explained that in this world, things have a way of disappearing, or going away. I didn't understand that then, but I do now.

As we look down at her headstone, my dad wraps his arm around my shoulders while he cries silently.

People say pain gets easier with time. I disagree. I feel like time changes grief, but it never ends. There are days it comes in waves and entirely out of nowhere. You just get used to living with the pain.

Certain things bring a rush of memories for me, scents, songs, or even just looking at her picture. I no longer fall apart as much as I used to when I was a kid, but the pain feels just as strong and lingers more than I remember.

The drive back to the property is quiet. I look over at my dad. "Do you think you'll ever love again, Pops?"

"I don't know, Char. There were times I wanted to go out and find love to fill the emptiness and void I have felt since we lost her. But I can't bring myself to go beyond thinking about it." He says sadly.

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