Redeemed (Dirty Air 4)

He fists his hands by his sides as if he needs to restrain himself. “Don’t go. Please.”

I zip up my suitcase and tug it off the bed, ignoring him.

“Chloe, stop. Please.” His voice croaks. “You should stay here. I’ll go and stay somewhere else. I don’t give a shit.”

I halt, my hand frozen on the luggage handle. “What?” Why would he offer something like that?

“I want you to stay here. I know you don’t entirely believe me right now, but I do love you and I don’t want you staying in some hotel. This will always be your home if you want it. Plus, it gives you access to see Matteo at any time.”

“I don’t want that right now.”

“But you might, and at least you’ll be a short walk away. And it’s free.” He stumbles over his words, as if he needs to get them all out before I bolt for the exit.

I want to scream at him to stop being caring. It’s the last thing my vulnerable heart needs, but I give in. He hooked me with the word free.

“Fine. I’m going to stay solely because I need to save the money for my return ticket back home. That’s it.”

His head drops, but he nods.

“You’re actually not going to sleep here?” I still can’t believe it.

“No. I’ll go somewhere else.”

I nod my head and turn back toward my luggage. “Okay.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “Will you give me a chance to fix this?”

I don’t bother looking in his direction. “People aren’t like your cars. You can’t repair what’s too broken beyond repair.”

“I would’ve said the same thing about myself, but then you came along. I’m not going to tell you I’m sorry. I’m going to show it.”

I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out. A wave of exhaustion hits me and my shoulders drop. Staying strong is taking its toll.

He lets out a sigh. His footsteps fade away into the distance. It doesn’t take long for the lock at the front door to turn. Instead of relief hitting me in Santiago’s absence, a wave of sadness washes over me.

I crawl onto the bed and curl into a ball. Today’s events weigh heavily inside of my chest. Just when I thought everything was going right in my life, God threw a bomb in my lap and expected me to disable it.

My dad is dead, Santiago knew and didn’t say anything to me, and the whole reason I came to Italy in the first place is pointless.

I don’t know what to do from here, but I do know one thing. I hate liars, and I somehow fell in love with the best one.

“Shut the fuck up! This can’t be real,” Brooke yells into her phone.

“Ugh.” I drop back onto my mattress, allowing the foam to swallow me whole. At least Brooke listened to the whole story before screaming. Down to the last detail, including everything about Santiago. From his deceit to him letting me stay in his home without him even living here.

“How is this even possible? The test can’t be wrong.”

I grip onto the loose thread of my raggedy pajama pants and pull. “They’re twins. Identical twins. That means they share basically the same DNA. It’s science.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“Fuck.” Brooke’s voice becomes nothing but a hoarse whisper.

“Yup.” I blink away the tears misting my eyes.

“What are you going to do now? Do you want to come back home?”