I looked up at him in surprise when he laughed through his nose. I turned back towards the sunlight and after sufficiently recharging my soul, I kept my eyes closed as I asked, “Have you spoken to him?”

“I have, just this morning.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood. “Oh?” My pulse drummed in my neck, but I tried to sound unaffected. “How did he sound?”

“Tired.”

That had my eyes opening. “Really?”

“Yes, he’s tired. Why do you sound surprised? Between the kids, work and this mess you got yourself in, he doesn’t have the time to scratch his ass.” My face fell and guilt settled heavily in my gut while Marco sipped his coffee, but he shot me a knowing look. “I can see you have something on your mind. So, come on. Let’s have it.”

I held my coffee between both hands until prickles of heat burned my palms. “My sister…” Part of me did not want to know the answer. “Has she asked about me?”

Marco’s hard expression softened only momentarily when he confirmed my suspicions. “Once, I think.”

Once.

Wow. I tried not feel betrayed, but it was kind of hard not to.

I remained silent for a while, processing that little tidbit and after the hurt turned from a sharp stab to a dull throb, I was slow to speak. “I think I was about twelve years old when I first noticed it. Before our mom died, while Vincenza was out at track meets or extracurriculars, she would take me to the mall with her and whenever we were ready to check out, I would look over at the candy and beg my mom to get me something sweet. She almost always said yes. But I could never get myself something without getting something for my sister too.” My brow crinkled in thought. “I remember Vincenza coming home one day and walking into the house with a small white bag. She reached inside and took out a double choc sundae and I innocently asked, ‘Hey, did you get one for me?’ and she shrugged and replied, ‘Sorry, I wasn’t thinking of you.’” My vision blurred. I blinked it away. “I know it’s stupid…” I laughed softly to cover the lump in my throat, but I felt awfully sad when I explained, “It’s become more evident as the years pass.” I looked down into my mug. “It’s a bitter pill to swallow knowing you love somebody more than they’ll ever love you.”

Marco’s lip curled. “That story doesn’t surprise me. Your sister is one of the most self-centered people I have ever met. She’s a textbook narcissist.”