ISLA
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Lorenzo’s words echoed in my head all day long.
‘Your mother wasn’t as innocent as you think.’
The words kept replaying in my head as I stared at the photo of my mother and his father. It was obvious the picture had been taken years ago. My mother, as well as Lorenzo’s father looked younger.
She was leaning in to whisper something in his ear, one of her hands on his chest and the other on his shoulder while his hand was placed at her waist. They looked way too familiar. They looked comfortable.
‘Maybe my father and I have the same taste in women.’
Did that mean our parents were having an affair? Or were they just old lovers?
The possibilities were driving me crazy. I’d been hesitant to ask Lorenzo about it because I’d been scared to know the truth. However, after hearing
