Gunner dropped Walter and me off at the Italian restaurant he had chosen, and Walter's smile on his face as I helped him inside was priceless. Knowing the reason behind his beaming ray of light smile made me smile because I knew it was because of me, how I finally gave in after six years of him trying and allowed him to take me on a dinner date.

I felt a pair of eyes staring at me as I looked at the menu; and flickered my eyes up over the top of the menu and stopped when my eyes greeted Walter's inquisitive eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm curious if you've figured out what you're having or if you need my help to decide on what you're hungry for?"

Gunner must have warned him that it takes me a while to decide what I'm hungry for.

I giggled softly and shook my head as I looked back at the menu. "No, I haven't decided yet. However, there are a couple of items on the menu that I'm contemplating which one I want more."

"Why contemplate? It's simple; just choose what looks and sounds good, and be done," he pushed, shrugging a shoulder.

My lips twisted. "It's not that easy for me, especially since I have to watch what I eat. You know how Neron is. If I even look at a particular food item, he punishes me for it. And I don't feel like being disciplined for eating something he disapproves of."

He chuckled. "I hate to break this to you, but no matter what you choose to eat, you're fucked."

"Not really. I'm supposed to eat protein and carbs; how the meal is prepared is what'll fuck me."

He laughed. "Just choose whatever sounds good to you and your belly. Don't worry about Neron; I'll deal with him if he gets his panties in a bunch."

I laughed. "Fine, if you insist."

"There's my girl. I'm also insisting on buying your meal tonight."

I lowered my menu and smiled. "I appreciate you wanting to buy me dinner. But I'll pay for our meals."

"Aria, this is my treat. I'm the one who wanted to take you out, so let me be the one to pay for our meals."

"Walter."

He furrowed his brows while pointing his finger repeatedly at me. "Don't Walter me. I'm buying, so I don't want to hear another word about who's paying for dinner."

Walter's serious.

"Okay fine. Dinner is on you," I acquiesced, not wanting to upset him after making his night by being here with him.

"Thank you."

After ordering our meals, Walter reminisced about his wife and mentioned how ecstatic he was to be eating at one of her favorite restaurants again. "This was the very last place we ate at before she succumbed to ovarian cancer," he said, looking saddened as our waitress set our meals down in front of us.

As I ate, I kept thinking about the reasoning behind this dinner date Walter insisted on bringing me on. I twirled the spaghetti with my fork, then took a bite, and without thinking, I spoke with my mouth full, "So, are you going to fill me in about why you wanted to bring me out to dinner?"

He swallowed his food, picked up his napkin, wiped his lips, then laid it back over his lap. "There are a couple of reasons I wanted to take you out," he said, looking up. "First of all, I wanted to inform you that I had a will drawn up when I was still in the nursing home, and I had listed you as the beneficiary."

My stomach fell, and my heart stopped. "Me? Why me?"

"Because you're all that I have left in my life. My wife is no longer here. I have no kids, and all my brothers and sisters have passed on."

"What about your nieces and nephews?"

He scrunched his nose. "What about them? Not once did they ever take the time to visit me. So why should I give them anything of mine?"

"Walter. They're your family."

"You're my family. Not them," he firmly clarified.

I picked up my fork, dug it into the pasta, and twirled it around. Now I feel bad—scratch that, I feel guilty.

If his family were to find out, he left everything to me, and since they most likely know how much he's worth and are expecting a pay day from him when he leaves us, they'd probably hunt me down and kill me.

"Walter, I appreciate your generosity, but I can't take your money. You still have a family, and I'm sure they expect to receive an inheritance from you."

"I thought I've told you this before, never argue with an old man. Especially me. Like I said. You're my family. You've done more for me than anyone related to me has. You may not be family by blood. But that doesn't matter. You're still my family, the daughter I've never had and wished to have. So no more arguing with me. The money is yours."

"But Walter..."

"No buts," he interrupted. "End of discussion, now onto the next thing I wanted to discuss with you."

"More?"

"Yes, there's more," he said, scratching the corner of his mouth.

"Great," I mumbled, setting my fork down. "What else do you have to tell me?"

He pushed his plate to the side, then folded his hands together as he looked at me. "I did some digging, and I found some information that you might find interesting."

I looked down at my food, picked up my fork, twirled the pasta around with my fork, and sighed. "What did you find now?"

"Your mother."

I snapped my head up, then tilted it to the side. "What about her?"

"I think you should see her."

"Why does everyone keep insisting that I go see her?" I asked, raising my voice while dropping my fork. "For the umpteenth time. She refuses to see me."

Walter immediately got quiet, and then he stared at me for the longest time, looking at me as if he wanted an apology.

Then it hit me why he looked disappointed in me. I raised my voice to him—something I didn't mean to do and something I've never done to Walter. I looked away from him and then at everyone sitting around us, staring at us.

I looked back at Walter and took a deep breath, sighing as I exhaled. "I'm sorry, Walter. I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm just frustrated."

"Apology accepted."

"Thank you."

"I want you to see her, Aria. And if she refuses, I want you to insist that she sees you."

"Why?"

"Because your mother holds all the answers to what you've been wondering about."

Answers?

What does Walter know that I don't?

"What are you talking about? What answers?"

"Ask her about a girl named Stella."

"Stella?"

"Yes. Stella. I'm almost positive you would like to hear more about her."

"If you know who this Stella is. Why can't you just tell me about her?"

"Because it'll mean more to you to hear about her from your mother than it will be from me. That's why..."

Stella.

Who the fuck is Stella?

The only Stella I've ever known is the one Cole cheated on me with.

I took another bite of my pasta and slowly chewed, wondering if I knew another Stella when I was a child, but nothing came to me.

"I also wanted to ask if you've ever heard of a girl named Felicia."

I stopped chewing, then choked when I spoke. "Yeah. I knew a girl named Felicia when I was little. Why? What do you know about her?"

"Did you know that she's your sister and that she's also a fighter?"

***

How was dinner?" Gunner asked as he helped Walter into the back seat.

"It was fantastic; thanks for allowing me to have a date with your wife finally."

"No problem. Glad you had a good time."

"Are you taking us to the tavern now? Tonight's a good night to drink up and let loose."

Gunner chuckled. "I don't think so."

Walter snapped his finger. "Damn." Then he whispered, "I think you should sneak me a shot of that good stuff you've got hiding in the cupboard."

I heard Walter being sneaky, but I was too upset to say anything and continued looking quietly out the window.

"Maybe another night, ole man," Gunner replied, closing the door. He got into the driver's seat, started the car, then rested his hand on my thigh. "You're awfully quiet. Is everything okay?"

I nodded.

Gunner turned to Walter. "Did you upset Aria?"

"No. Why would I upset her?"

"He didn't upset me," I finally said, still looking out the window.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Gunner asked, sounding worried.

"Yes, I'm fine. Let's get home so I can feed and put Wyatt to bed."

On the way home, I didn't say another word. I knew it bothered Gunner because of how he kept looking over at me, but my mind was too focused on trying to remember everything from when I was a child. Felicia... my sister. And Stella? I couldn't help but wonder if she was another woman my dad had an affair with.

I didn't want to rack my brain trying to think, so I grabbed my phone out of my purse and texted the one person I felt knew more than what he's ever told me—Justin.

Me: Come over to my house NOW. We need to talk!

I looked at Gunner, and when he looked at me, I looked down at my phone and stared, waiting for Justin's reply.

Five minutes later, he responded.

Justin: Damn, sis, why are you yelling at me?

Me: Bring your workout clothes and meet me at our gym.

I responded, typing fast.

Justin: What's going on?

Me: I'm not sure yet. All I know is that we need to talk.

Justin: Are you planning on kicking my ass or something?

Me: Probably.

***

I warmed up, then headed over to the heavy bag and started punching and kicking, thinking back to the last time I saw my father and Stacey. And when their smiling faces came to mind, I pounded it harder.

"Why do we have to go to Felicia's birthday party? We don't even know her," I whined to Justin.

"Dad says we have to be there."

"I'd rather stay here with mom since she's been crying all day. She needs us."

"I know she does. But it's our weekend with dad, and if we don't go this time, he'll contact the courts again."

"But mom's still upset she lost our sister. So I'll stay here with mom and take care of her; you can go to Felicia's birthday party without me."

Justin rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to a girl's birthday party without you. I need someone I know to talk to, plus dad will have a fit that you're not there."

"But mom."

"She'll be fine," he assured, handing me my bag.

I heard dad honking the horn, letting us know he was there to pick us up, so before going out there, I walked into mom's room to check on her and to let her know that Justin and I were leaving, but when I got to her, she turned the opposite way. I stood still, staring at her and watching her body tremble as she cried. "Dad's here to pick us up. Are you going to be okay without Justin and me here?"

"I'll be fine," she cried. "You better get going before your father calls the police, saying I'm keeping you from him again."

I rested my hand on her back and started rubbing. "I can stay; I don't want to go, anyway."

"Aria, go. You and Justin have fun. I need to be alone."

I turned, facing the door, when I heard my father honking again, then turned back to mom. "Do you need anything before I leave?"

"No. Just go."

Justin barged into the room, yelling, "Aria, come on! Dad won't stop honking the horn!"

I looked back at mom and sighed, "I'll see you in a couple of days."

My mother didn't say anything. Instead, she reached for the pillow and pulled it, covering her head. Since that was my cue she wanted me to leave her alone. I sadly left her room, and as I walked out the door, I looked behind me, hoping my mom would call my name or come out and beg me to stay. But she didn't.

"Aria, come on, we'll be late if you continue poking around!" my father yelled, hanging his head out the window.

Justin and I quietly sat in the back seat, both dreading going to this birthday party my father was making us attend, but when he pulled into a park and saw a giant inflatable bouncy house, slides, and more, my eyes widened in excitement. So maybe being at this party won't be so bad after all.

Since our father was preoccupied with Stacey and Felicia and we didn't know anyone there, Justin and I kept to ourselves. "I think dad forgot we're even here," I said, dropping down into the pile of balls. "He hasn't talked to us since we got here, and he keeps playing with that little girl."

"Yeah," he sighed. "This is why I wanted you to come with me."

I stood, then turned, jealousy hitting me instantly as I watched my father throw Felicia into the air. "He acts as if he likes her more than us. Every time we see dad, he spends his time playing with her and ignores us."

Justin fell backward into the pile of balls, then started throwing balls in the air. "I wonder how mom's doing?" Justin said quietly.

I dropped to my knees, pushing the balls to cover Justin. "You should tell dad to bring us home."

"Aria, Justin, come out of there right now," my father angrily ordered, snapping his fingers and waving us to come over to him. "It's time to sing to the birthday girl and watch Felicia open her gifts."

Justin pushed himself up, balls falling from his body. He looked at me, sighing, "Let's go."

Justin and I sat at the picnic table with our arms crossed, staring at everyone instead of participating in singing happy birthday to Felicia. And as I watched my father's interaction with the little girl, I was hit with jealousy even more, missing the days when he gave us the same attention.

While my father and Stacey helped Felicia open her gifts, Stacey kept her eyes on Justin and me. She knew we were bored, and knowing we disagreed with their love affair, she continued flaunting her relationship with my father—hugging, kissing, smiling, and laughing. Then, at the end of the gift opening, my heart shattered when Stacey handed Felicia over to my father, saying, "Here, go to your daddy."

Daddy?

I looked at Justin, confused. "Why did she say go to daddy? That's not her daddy. He's our daddy."

"Ignore her. Stacey's trying to upset us."

Just as I punched the bag, a pair of arms wrapped around me and pulled away from the bag, interrupting my pissing match and pissing me off even more that I continued swinging my arms.

"Aria. Damn. What the fuck is your deal?"

I wiggled my way out of Justin's grip, turned around, and punched him in the mouth. "You're my deal," I hissed, stepping away from him.

"Aria, what the fuck? Have you gone mad?" Justin rubbed his mouth and shook his head. "You're the one who contacted me, telling me I needed to come over so we could talk. Well. I'm here, so it would be fucking nice to know why you've suddenly become a bitch to me. What the fuck did I do?" he asked, looking confused and upset.

I shrugged my shoulders, turned around, and punched the bag. "I don't know. Maybe you've done something. Maybe you haven't," I scowled, hitting the heavy bag again.

Justin walked behind the bag and wrapped his arms around it, holding it in place. "Instead of snapping at me right off the bat, why don't you inform me about why you wanted me here in the first place and why you're acting the way you are now?"

He's right. I shouldn't jump the gun and conclude he knows more than what he's told me.

I stepped away from the bag and turned towards the ring, extending my arm toward it. "Care to come inside the ring with me? It'll be like old times. You and me duking out our issues."

The corners of his lips raised while looking at the ring, and then he chuckled. "You expect me to get in the ring and take some shots at you? We're not little kids anymore, Aria. We're grown adults."

"What are you, chicken?"

"No, I'm not a chicken. You're a woman; I'm a man. And you're my sister, so I can't hit you. It's not right."

I furrowed my brows. "Why not? It'll be us showing our brotherly and sisterly love."

"I'd kick your ass so fast."

I laughed. As upset as I am right now, Justin has no clue what's coming to him, especially if he's been hiding everything from me this entire time. "Try me. I may just surprise you."

He combed his fingers through his hair, and then he faced me, not looking thrilled, but then he agreed to my wish. "Fine... you're on."

I handed him Gunner's gloves, and then I walked over to the music player and turned it on. I wanted something to help fuel me, rock music that would give me more momentum to kick Justin's ass. Since my talk with Walter, and the more I think back to when I entered the dining room when the guys were talking and overhearing what I did, told me, Justin's been hiding something from me.

I met him at the center of the ring and held up my fists. And as we moved around, circling the center and staring into each other's eyes, I studied his face while thinking about all the questions I wanted to ask. Finally, I asked, "Have you ever hid anything from me?"

Justin's brows drew together, and he continued moving his fists up and down, waiting for my punch to block it. "Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know, like what happened between mom and dad?"

His face scrunched tight. "You know what happened. Dad left mom for Stacey."

I rolled my eyes. "Duh. I know that. But what else do you know about their split?"

Justin didn't say anything. So, I raised my right arm, then tricked him by giving him my left-handed hook, punching him in the jaw. "I know you know something. And I know you've been hiding it from me. And if you don't tell me what that is, I'll punch you again, but harder."

He sighed. "Fine... I walked in on dad having an affair with Stacey a couple of years before leaving mom for her."

I punched him in the stomach—twice. "Why didn't you ever tell me? Didn't you think I had a right to know?"

"You were too young."

"So. You still could have told me. You know. When I was old enough to understand."

"You're right. I could have. But I chose not to."

I swung my fist at his face, and he blocked. "Why?"

"Because it was something I didn't feel was necessary to talk about. Dad went on with his life. Mom continued living in the past and refused to better herself. And if I were to have told her what I saw, it would have made matters worse for her. And you, since you never got over their split, I chose not to tell you. That's why."

"You still could have told me," I snarled, throwing a couple of jabs at him and hitting Justin in the side of his face with my second punch. "What else have you hidden from me?"

I saw it in his eyes; there was more to tell me. And I also picked up on the look on his face—trying to think of how to say it to me, so I pushed for more. "I deserve to know, Justin. I'm not a fucking kid anymore."

His lips pursed tight, pissing me off more. "Spill the beans, Justin," I demanded, punching him in the stomach. Then quickly, right-handed, uppercut his chin, hissing, "She's our sister. Isn't she?"

"Who?"

"You know damn well who."

He threw a fist at me and missed—purposely missing.

"How long have you known Justin?"

"I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Liar..."

The blood rapidly flowing through my veins began to boil when Justin refused to tell me what he knew, and my ears and cheeks started to fill with heat. Then my face must have distorted with a look of rage because Justin's eyes suddenly grew wide, and he quickly raised his arms to cover his face.

Instead of punching him, I swung out my leg, knocked him down, and then jumped on top of him, beating him until he submitted.

"All right, all right," he yelled. "I'll tell you what I know. Just stop already!"

I stopped punching, pressed my fists into either side of his shoulders, pinning him to the mat and lowering my face to his. "Start talking."

"Get off me first. Then I'll tell."

"No. Not until you tell me what you've been hiding from me all these years."

He closed his eyes, heavily sighing, "Fine. Remember when I called dad an asshole when Stacey came out of the kitchen?"

"Yes," I said, breathing faster. "I remember. I also recall you saying something to dad about how he promised you something."

"When Stacey walked out of the kitchen with Felicia in her arms, my stomach sank. I knew that he was having an affair with her for a while, but dad promised me he'd wait to have Stacey over until after he told you about her. He was supposed to break his relationship with her gently and not throw it at you like he did that day. And because she was there with the kid that night when dad and I were arguing, I asked him if Felicia was our sister."

My eyes widened to saucers. "You knew the entire fucking time!"

"I'm sorry, Aria. Dad was supposed to tell you, but then he quit seeing us. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but I couldn't find it in my heart to break what I knew to you."

"You should have told me," I sadly whispered, sitting up.

"Since dad decided not to have anything to do with us, I figured there was no reason to tell you about her. Felicia doesn't matter, Aria." He raised his fist and waved it from me to him. "You and I matter."

I rolled off Justin, then flopped my back onto the mat, resting my arms over my chest and staring at the ceiling. "Did you ever plan on telling me?"

"No."

Hope the chapter was okay!🤞🤞🤞🤞