Chapter 6 - The Secret Vincent Had Been Keeping
Three weeks passed.
The internet found another scandal.
Reporters disappeared.
Life became almost normal.
Emily continued working.
Vincent continued appearing for terrible coffee.
Except now he sat at the counter.
“You realize we sell better coffee across the street?” Emily asked.
“Yes.”
“Then why keep coming?”
“You know why.”
She smiled.
One morning, Vincent placed an envelope on the counter.
Emily frowned.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Inside was a photograph.
Emily stared.
It showed Vincent’s mother decades earlier.
She was wearing a waitress uniform.
Standing beside her was a much younger woman.
Emily’s breath caught.
“My mother?”
Vincent nodded.
Emily looked up.
“They knew each other?”
“They worked together.”
“When?”
“Before I was born.”
Emily stared at the picture.
“My mom never told me.”
“She probably didn’t know who I was.”
Emily turned the photograph over.
Two names were written on the back.
Maria DeLuca & Diane Carter.
Emily whispered, “How did you find this?”
“After our first date, your mother’s name bothered me.”
“Why?”
“I’d heard it before.”
Vincent looked at the photograph.
“My mother kept a box of things from the restaurant.”
Emily’s chest tightened.
“There was a letter.”
He handed her another folded page.
Emily read silently.
Maria had written about Diane.
About the coworker who covered her shifts when Vincent was sick.
About the woman who secretly left groceries outside their apartment.
Emily looked up.
“My mother helped yours?”
“For years.”
“Did you know when you kissed me?”
“No.”
“So that wasn’t why?”
“No.”
Emily exhaled.
“Good.”
Vincent raised an eyebrow.
“Good?”
“I was about to get really angry if this turned into some debt you thought you owed.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Then why show me?”
“Because there’s something else.”
Emily waited.
“My mother wrote about you.”
“My mother?”
“No.”
Vincent smiled faintly.
“My mother.”
Emily frowned.
“I was a baby.”
“Exactly.”
He handed her another photograph.
Maria held a dark-haired toddler.
Beside her stood Diane holding a chubby baby girl.
Emily stared.
“That’s me?”
“Yes.”
Her mouth fell open.
“We met?”
“Apparently.”
Emily looked at the photograph.
Toddler Vincent appeared furious.
Baby Emily was grabbing his sleeve.
She started laughing.
“You look miserable.”
“I was being assaulted.”
“I was six months old.”
“You were aggressive.”
Emily wiped tears of laughter from her eyes.
Then she became quiet.
“So we met thirty-five years ago.”
“Briefly.”
“And neither of us knew.”
“No.”
Emily looked at him.
“The kiss really wasn’t impulsive.”
Vincent smiled.
“No.”
She walked around the counter.
He watched her approach.
“What are you doing?”
“Correcting something.”
“What?”
“The first kiss was yours.”
She placed her hands against his chest.
“This one is mine.”
Emily kissed him.
No cameras.
No audience.
No Tyler.
When she pulled away, Vincent looked stunned.
She smiled.
“That’s a much better expression on you.”
“Do it again.”
Emily laughed.
“You’re demanding.”
“Emily.”
May you like
She kissed him again.
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