Anderson
The streetlights blurred as I sped through the quiet roads, gripping the steering wheel tighter with each passing mile. Mom’s words replayed in my mind, every word digging deeper into the pit of my anger.
“She had a past, Anderson. A past with Davis, one you should have known about.”
Betrayal. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and now it was coursing through my veins, poisoning every thought. My own mother, complicit in a web of secrets that I was only now unraveling. Kate, the woman I had loved, had kept her connection to Davis hidden from me. How could they both do this?
I pulled into the parking lot of ‘Cucina Italiana’, Kate’s newest restaurant venture. The soft glow of the sign above the entrance seemed mocking, it brought back memories of our stay in Italy.
The mom
