Fall For My Ex's Mafia Father novel Chapter 222

A day alone with my very important gentleman Romulus ends up being way more fun than I thought it would. We ended up going out front to fetch Jerome because I figured that we were going to be here for a while and didn’t want him to be left alone out in the heat. This ended up being an amazing choice because Romulus took to Jerome immediately, crawling all over him like a jungle gym.

We’re all laying out in the back yard staring up at the clouds about three hours into my visit, Romulus catching his breath after another long bout of his new favorite game, Pirates, where he and Jerome basically just chase each other around with sticks, when a dark shadow falls over me.

“Oh,” I say, surprised when I realize that it’s not a sudden rain cloud but, instead, my father smiling down at us. “Oh, hello!” I say, laughing a little and working to sit up. “I didn’t hear you come outside.”

“I was quiet,” my father says, smiling at me as Romulus shrieks and throws himself at our dad, clearly thrilled to see him. “It did my heart good to see you with your brother. I have…wanted to see that for a long time.”

I bite my lip a little at the sincerity in my father’s voice and then smile at him, this man who is a stranger but who so clearly does not want to be.

“Dad,” I say, standing up and reaching out my hand towards him. Quite suddenly I feel a little pang of guilt at calling this man dad, when another man raised me – and then another pang, when I realize that I haven’t reached out to my actual dad in a while. I make a mental note to fix that as soon as I can.

“Fay,” my father replies, taking my hand.

“Romulus!” Romulus shouts, throwing two hands up in the air in victory. We all laugh and then Jerome takes one of the little boy’s hands.

“Come on, kid,” he says, “let’s go get a popsicle.” Then, quite politely, Jerome looks to my father with a raised eyebrow, asking if that’s all right. My father nods graciously, and Jerome leads Romulus away.

“Dad,” I say, starting again, squeezing his hand a little. “I want to be…better than we are. I’m sorry – I know it’s not…perfect, between us. Far from it.”

“Fay,” he says, shaking his head and coming closer to pat me on the cheek with his other hand. “I owe you an apology as well. I was horrible to you the last time you came to visit. Come, we’ll start again.”