A Sinner’s Saint (De Bellis Crime Family #4)

Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

A year later

I f you’ve ever wondered if it were possible to die of a broken heart, I’d say it is. I’m just not there yet. I’ve been knocking on death’s doorstep for a year and the fucker won’t let me in. If he had, I wouldn’t be here today to tell this story, so I guess it’s probably a good thing.

Twelve months ago, I lost him. Completely lost the man I loved. After we returned from France, he wouldn’t answer my text messages, wouldn’t return my phone calls. And like the idiot I was, I kept calling and messaging. Every day. For six whole months.

I’d wake up with renewed hope that things were going to change. That he’d come to realise he needs me just as much as I need him. It was a really long time to hold on to that hope, but I thought our love could overcome anything.

Until somewhere along the six-month mark, I found myself sitting in the middle of a lecture and it hit me. It was really over. I don’t know why it took so long. But when that knowledge came tumbling down on me like a ton of bricks, my heart stopped. Literally stopped.

One minute I was sitting in a lecture theatre; the next, I was waking up in an ambulance, being rushed to the hospital. The doctors never could find a reason as to why my heart gave in that day. My parents flew up from Melbourne, and I was made to undergo all kinds of medical tests.

None of it mattered. I knew why. And it was because of him. Vin really did give up on us. On me. I’ve accepted that now. I’d love to say I’ve moved on, but I haven’t. I can’t imagine dating anyone. Maybe I’ll spend my life like my Aunt Stacey. A free spirit. Alone.

I’ve made peace with it. With him. I hate what he did, but can’t bring myself to hate him. I just have to remember what he did, how he left without even a backwards glance. I won’t be hurt like that again.

Now that I’m back in Melbourne, I’m sure it won’t be long before I run into him. Especially once classes start next month. I’m ready for it… I think. It’s not like he’s going to try to talk to me or anything. He’s going to do what he’s done for the past year. Ignore me.

“Okay, you’re all set,” the lady behind the counter at student services says to me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Thank you.” I take the envelope full of useless information I’m probably not going to need.

There’s still a month before classes start. I returned to Melbourne for my parents. They both came up to Sydney a month ago to tell me they were divorcing. I didn’t ask why, nor did they offer up an explanation. It was a shock. I honestly thought my parents’ relationship was solid. It wasn’t until two days ago, when I came home to stay with my mum, that I found out my father had cheated on her with his receptionist.

My mum was in tears. She’s still trying to come to terms with everything that’s happening. I was just angry. So angry that my dad would do that to her. Why would he do that? I want to ask him. I have so many questions, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t want to be caught in the middle of my parent’s divorce, and I don’t want to have to take sides.

Although, right now, I’m stuck with my mum. She is devastated and needs me more than Dad does. When I saw him yesterday, he looked overworked and stressed but he said he was fine. Thankfully, when I stopped by his office, he had a new male assistant. I don’t know what I would have done if the woman he cheated on my mum with was still there.

As I walk out of the student services building, I bump into a chest. Arms reach out to grab me to stop me from falling. “Cammi?”

A familiar voice full of shock has me looking up at Vin’s best friend.

“Dash.” I smile and take a step back. Holding the large envelope against my chest, like it’s going to protect me somehow. Wait… Do I need protection from Dash?

“You coming back to Melbourne?” he asks casually.

“Ah, yeah. My mum needs me here. So here I am.” I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to him.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you around then, I guess. Welcome back, Cammi.” He smiles and steps towards the building.

“Dash?” I call out to him, and he turns to face me.

“Yeah?”

“How is he?” I ask, already regretting the question. I don’t care how he is. I don’t want to see him, and I certainly do not want to get caught up in the trap that is Vin De Bellis.

Dash appears to think over the question. “He’s…okay. Although I have a feeling he’s about to be a lot happier real soon.” He winks and then turns before pushing through the door.

He’s okay. Well, I’m glad he’s doing okay. Not that I didn’t think he would be. After all, he’s the one that ended our… friendship, relationship, whatever it was. He ended it, not me. So why wouldn’t he be okay?

I wish I didn’t ask Dash. If only I could turn back time, I’d act like I didn’t care one way or the other how the hell Vin De Bellis was doing. Because I can’t. And the more I remind myself that I don’t care, the more there’s a chance I might actually talk it into being. Like manifesting, I think. If you say it enough, it happens, right?

I park my mum’s car in the driveway before grabbing the grocery bags from the boot. And why am I driving my mum’s car? Because I returned the fancy-as-shit G-Wagon Vin bought me. About a month after France. I had it shipped from my house to his. I even left a letter in the glove box, hoping he’d read it and call me.

When I walk through the door, I find my mum on the sofa. “Hey, I’m cooking dinner,” I tell her.

“You’re cooking dinner?” Mum asks. “Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” She follows me into the kitchen.

“Haha, funny. I cook,” I tell her as I set the fresh veggies on the benchtop.

“What are you cooking?” Mum peers into the grocery bags.

“Chicken stir-fry. It’s Aunt Stacey’s recipe,” I say.

“Actually, it’s my recipe. Aunt Stacey stole it from me and claims it’s hers,” Mum corrects me.

“I’ve lived with you my whole life. I’ve never seen you make this.” I pull a cutting board out of the cupboard.

“That’s because your dad didn’t like it.” Mum gets a sad look on her face. She didn’t cook something just because my dad didn’t like it?

I remember how Vin used to take me out for sushi because he knew I loved it. He’d never order anything, but he was happy to just sit there and let me enjoy one of my favourite foods.

“You’re doing it again.” Mum points at me.

“Doing what?” I turn on the tap and bring the veggies closer to the sink so I can wash them.

“You’re thinking about him. Whoever that boy is. You get this faraway look on your face. When are you going to tell me about him?” she asks.

“I did tell you about him. He was there and then he wasn’t. The end.” There really isn’t anything else to say.

“That’s not information, Camile. What’s his name? He clearly left an impact on you if he still takes up space in your head,” Mum presses.

If only she knew how much space in my head and heart Vin takes up…

“It’s not important. He’s not important. He’s not anything anymore.” I shrug.

“I’m sorry. I really hope you find your one great love story. But I think, for now, you should focus on being young and free. You don’t need to tie yourself down just yet. Live, laugh, party. Have fun, Cammi.” Mum walks over to the fridge. “Do you know what chicken stir-fry pairs well with?”

“What?” I ask.

“Moscato,” Mum says, putting the bottle on the bench and grabbing two glasses.

“Do you believe that people only get one true love in their lifetime?” I really hope that’s not the case. Not for me, but I can’t help but think about Santo at his fiancée’s grave. He deserves to find that kind of love again.

Me? I have no interest in being hurt by love for a second time, so I’m steering clear of it for the foreseeable future.

“I think there are different levels of love, baby. Some loves are the great, all-consuming, soul-claiming types. Some are not as intense but still just as important,” Mum says.

And some loves are forever, no matter how much you deny it. I think this to myself. Now is not the time to tell my mother just how much of myself I lost to Vin.