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Back Our Italian Summer Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for the novels of
  3. Titles by Jennifer Probst
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraphs
  6. CHAPTER ONE
  7. CHAPTER TWO
  8. CHAPTER THREE
  9. CHAPTER FOUR
  10. CHAPTER FIVE
  11. CHAPTER SIX
  12. CHAPTER SEVEN
  13. CHAPTER EIGHT
  14. CHAPTER NINE
  15. CHAPTER TEN
  16. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  17. CHAPTER TWELVE
  18. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  19. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  20. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  21. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  22. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  23. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  24. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  34. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  42. NOTE TO READER
  43. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  44. Readers Guide
  45. QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
  46. Excerpt from THE SECRET LOVE LETTERS OF OLIVIA MORETTI
  47. Chapter One
  48. Chapter Two
  49. About the Author
  50. What’s next onyour reading list?

THE SECRET LOVE LETTERS OF OLIVIA MORETTI

Chapter One

Priscilla

Priscilla Hampton wondered if every daughter who buried her mother suddenly became swamped with regrets.

She’d never been one to question her decisions or linger on actions she’d taken that couldn’t be changed. But staring up at her childhood home, facing the task of cleaning out her mom’s personal belongings, she was pretty much sick with what-ifs.

The overly large Tudor house still seemed as if it was judging her as she walked up the curvy pathway leading to the sweeping arched doorway. Pris had never liked the way the two giant windows gave off an eerie yellow glow from the sage-green stucco, like eyes stuck in a deep-set face. The balcony dead center reminded her of a flat nose and had been the bane of her mother’s existence—a perfect escape route for teen girls to sneak out at night. The lower brick should have lent an elegant, timeless tone, but it all ended up looking like a mishmash of old and new. Still, it was the only family home she’d ever lived in. After the divorce, Dad had given the house up without a fight, moving on and moving in with his newest love interest. She’d blamed him, of course, until she realized her mother hadn’t seemed to care, which somehow made Pris angrier with her than with Dad.

It would’ve been easier if Mom wanted revenge, or insisted her daughters hate him. Instead, she’d snatched Pris’s right to bitterness and swept all the messy emotions away with her usual sunny smile, encouraging them to have a healthy relationship with Dad and not worry.

Did her mother ever get exhausted by the endless pursuit of perfection? Always having to be nice, and forgive, and put everyone else first without resentment?

Pris trembled as she thought of her beloved mother alone in her hospital bed. Once again, refusing to ask for help, hating to bother anyone with her issues, even sickness.

And dying alone.

A wave of emotion battered her body, so Pris held her breath, sensing she was on the verge of either a breakdown or a breakthrough worthy of an O Magazine feature article.

Her sister bumped her from behind and Priscilla stumbled forward. “Dude, you’re blocking the pathway. Why do you have that dumb look on your face?”

Pris shot her an annoyed look. Her fleeting come-to-Jesus moment departed faster than a conservative trapped in a room with liberals. “I was thinking.”

Bailey rolled her eyes and kept walking. “No time to think. I’ve gotta be at open mike tonight.”

The sound of her middle sister’s voice floated in the air with a tinge of annoyance. “Really, Bae? We cleared this day to pack up Mom’s stuff and be together. You can’t even hang with us for one lousy evening?”