Pop’s grief had obviously been harder. He became a shell of his former self, and I’d done my best to step in and help Nonna raise Nicky. And as Pop slowly recovered, he cemented into a figure who would never change again. He was at peace, he flirted innocently with the neighborhood ladies to get free food, and he had Nonna. And us. That was it.

Nonna had traveled a similar path when Nonno died.

There’d never been any talk of them finding new partners. Nicky and I had hinted a few times over the years, and we’d been shut down swiftly and decisively.

They were everything to me, but I didn’t wanna be them.

Ironically, I’d closed myself in like they had. I’d turned my daily routines into something made of concrete. I worked full time and then some at the Initiative, I had my side gig on Saturdays when I repaired guitars for chump change, I went to my local martial arts studio and kickboxed once a week, I ran three times a week, I had Sunday dinner with my family, and I went out for a beer or coffee with Nicky or buddies once or twice a month. Same bars, same hole-in-the-wall diners, same everything.

“Che c’è che non va, polpetto? Dillo a Nonna. I can see something’s bothering you,” Nonna said.

I suppressed a sigh and wrenched myself out of the depressing thoughts.

She pointed at the olives she wanted, and I grabbed them for her before checking my watch. I had twenty minutes. Then I had to get back to work.

“You don’t wanna tell me, huh?” Nonna sucked her teeth and shook her head, pushing the cart toward another aisle. “Nicky’s worried about you. He talks, you know.”

“He talks when it’s convenient for him,” I said. “I’m fine, Nonna. I’m disappointed for allowing myself to become a mopey old bastard, but I’m workin’ on it.”

“You’re no bastard.” She smacked my arm, and I smirked. “But I’m glad you’re working on that. Mopey is not an attractive trait.” Wasn’t a whole lot I could say in response. “It’s because you have a soft heart.” She nodded to herself. “You’re only really happy when you have someone to take care of.”

I frowned.

“Your brother’s the same,” she added. “You get that from me. It’s a blessing and a curse.”

I raked my teeth across my lip and worded myself carefully, not wanting her to get offended. “It’s difficult to see the blessing in it right now.”