Page 145 of Thin Lives

Every single reason.

“You’re going to be great,” Calisto told his daughter.

Camilla’s gaze jumped up from the floor to meet her father’s. “I didn’t say—”

“You don’t have to.”

“Chicago is cold, Daddy.”

“So is New York.”

“It’s wet.”

“Lay off the suede boots,” he joked.

Camilla smiled slightly. “You know, you’ve never tried to talk me out of this. Not even once.”

He’d thought about it a lot. He’d considered all the different things he could say to his daughter that might make her understand how heartbreaking it was for him to give her away. More than anything, he wanted her to stay right there with him so that he could keep her safe.

But that wasn’t freedom.

Calisto would never cage his children.

Not like he had been.

Not like Emma had been.

“Why would I?” Calisto asked. “It’s what you want to do. Isn’t it?”

“Of course. I’m just thinking too much right now.”

“It’s okay to be overwhelmed, Cam.”

Camilla took a couple of steps inside the bedroom and perched herself on the edge of her parents’ large king-sized bed. “You don’t mind if I stay in here with you until Ma comes to find me, do you?”

Calisto turned back to the mirror, making sure his tie was straight. “Never.”

“And you’ll drive me to the church, won’t you, Daddy?”

His fingers stumbled on the knot of his tie. The quietness of her voice stunned him for a second. It wasn’t like her to be so soft spoken.

“Yeah, Cam,” he finally said.

At least then, he could have just a few more private moments with her.

He was again reminded, as he watched Camilla finger the bedspread, that it wouldn’t be what he took with him when he finally left the world, but what he left behind.

Calisto knew he would leave the very best parts he could. Today, he might have been giving one of those pieces of him away, but that was just a part of life.

God knew he had lived his without regrets.

It was someone else’s turn, now.

“If you’re having problems with the gangs,” Calisto started to say.

“No problems,” Cross cut in fast. “None that I can’t handle.”

Calisto rubbed at his forehead, knowing he had to give his son a bit of leg room to move, or Cross would simply force his way like he always did. Cross Donati had a way about him when it came to certain things. He wasn’t one to let others handle his business—he could and would do it alone. Cross was arrogant in that way, but Calisto had to admit, that cocky confidence had carried the boy straight through his life and let him succeed in most everything he wanted to do. From baseball, to soccer, to college, and the mafia.