Chapter 20
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ANASTASIA
- Nine years ago
Excitement used to be such a foreign feeling. Yet now, it feels everlasting, expanding through my chest like raw fire. It’s prom next weekend and whilst I harbor little affection for such events, it’s going to be my first public outing with Leone.
Until now our relationship has been hidden, casting a dark shadow even in our happiest moments together.
And I get it. He’s scared of the attention we would draw and the constant harassment he experiences extending to me.
I know I can handle myself though and if anything, I think people knowing about our relationship would give them more incentive to fuck off and leave us alone. My reputation was secured when I had Stu Stockard kicked out of the school for smuggling in hash and sent to rehab because he decided it would be funny to start a rumor that I was a transvestite.
People called it extreme, but he should have learnt to pick his enemies wisely.
I want to protect Leone. Fly us both faraway so we can stay happy and safe in our little bubble but unfortunately, we both need this school. Him more than me but still, graduating is an accomplishment I want to achieve.
So when he asked me to prom last week, I knew this was the next step in our relationship. It was almost summer and I wanted him to come to New York to meet my family and I wanted to fly to Sicily to meet his.
The door opens without a knock and those familiar tingles spread through my stomach as I turn. Instead, Jas walks in alone with a strange expression overtaking her features. I move in my chair, trying to look behind her. “So, where is he?”
My mom was curious to say the least when I asked her to purchase a tux, alongside my dress. It hangs behind my door alongside the satin red gown I picked out for myself.
She shifts uncomfortably on her feet and her warm brown skin pales as her eyes begin to water. “What happened?” I rush and grip her hands. A million thoughts rush through my head, the main one being somebody hurt my best friend and for that they would die.
Squeezing her hands, I manage to pull her back to me. “He’s gone!” She blurts out. I stiffen, knowing exactly who she’s talking about but praying with each fiber of my being that I’m wrong. “I got to his room, ready to tell him about the surprise but he was gone. Everything was gone…it’s like he never even existed Stasia. The guy in the room next to him said he saw Leone leaving in the middle of the night with a suitcase—”
My mind drowns out anything that comes next and panic sears into my skull like a blistering headache. “I need to see it.” Brushing past Jas, I make my way up towards the boys’ dorms, ignoring the curious looks and harassing comments as I brace my fist to pound on the door.
He’s gone, Anastasia.
Lowering my hand, I push at the handle instead and stumble into an empty room.
Jas was right — everything is gone.
All of his posters and books, the pictures of us we took on Jas’ polaroid… something crunches beneath my shoe and I look down. My breath falters at the popsicle Eiffel tower we spent so long building together for the architecture competition destroyed .
I crouch down and pick up one of the broken sticks, trying to piece it back together.
Moisture pools in my eyes, as I stare at the broken sticks, tearing our initials apart from one another. My tears land on the wood, smudging the ink.
I let it fall from my hand and frown, noticing something beneath the bed. Reaching under, my fingers curl around the book as I drag it out. Brokeback Mountain.
A sob chokes me as I open it, flicking through the pages. His notes are scrawled in the margins, my writing sometimes squashed in, adding to his work.
I used this book to help him with his English. It was the first we ever read together, back when we classed ourselves as just study buddies and I was trying to squash the tiny butterflies that emerged in my stomach every time he smiled.
My tears splash onto the page and I slam it shut, trapping the moisture between them. Climbing off the ground, I clutch the book tightly in my hand and head straight for the principal’s office. My surname alone gets me in and within a minute I have him searching for Leone’s records.
“Ah yes, it’s very strange to have a student drop out so close to the end of the school year.”
“Did he see you last night? Was he okay? Hurt? ”
“No, he seemed surprisingly calm. He simply told me that this school wasn’t for him and that he needed to head straight back to Italy for a family matter. I was sad to see him go, such an excellent student but then again, he didn’t exactly fit in.”
My nails dig into my palm as I curl my fists, “Did he say anything else? Do you have his home address?”
He sighs, pulling off his horn-rimmed glasses and tearing his gaze away from the computer. “Now Miss Romano, I can’t be giving out confidential information. Besides, the young man was adamant about me deleting his contact information from the school system so there’s no trace of him even attending the school.”
A scream itches its way up my throat. I try to calm myself down, calculating how long it would take to get this computer to Aunt Mia.
Too long.
“You know Miss Romano, you are a very capable young girl. I understand you were…sweet on the boy, but he wasn’t exactly up to the standards of your class.”
“Excuse me?” I bite out.
He flinches at the tone but quickly recovers with a sharp glare, probably remembering that I’m a sixteen-year-old girl. “He was beneath you. Your parents would never accept such a preposterous match. Perhaps this was a good thing so now you can focus on your studies.”
A bitter laugh escapes my throat. “My studies are excellent. Both Leone and I are at the top of all our classes achieving academic excellence that’s a balding headteacher’s wet dream. Just because he was on a scholarship doesn’t mean—”
“Scholarship?” His reddening face creases.
I swallow down the doubt creeping up my spine and nod. “Leone was on a scholarship.”
“We don’t accept scholarships to Ravenswood, Miss Romano. I’m afraid he lied to you.”
No, he wouldn’t. He promised he would never—-
“Each semester money was transferred from an offshore account for Leone. I remember finding it strange but the payments were always on time and there were never any issues. I can have my assistant confirm—
“No, it’s fine.” I barely recognize my own voice — so marred by pain, confusion, anger and the tears that refuse to quit.
“Miss Romano, let me get you a tissue and some water. I can call a friend for you,”
“Don’t I’m fine. Sorry to have wasted your time. ”
My feet drag me away from the rest of the world, seeking somewhere solitude that will make the pain splintering through my chest dull even for just a second.
Birds soar high above, chirping their bright melody that only crushes my spirit further. Finally, I reach the ruins of the church and collapse against the wall. My back slides down against the stone as sobs threaten to rise in my throat but I swallow them down.
He doesn’t deserve my tears — nonetheless my pain.
I wipe them, burying down all the stupid memories where I thought I was in love.
No more.
Those butterflies I used to feel slowly suffocate, laying their dying wings to rest within my blackening heart.
***
Why does my soul feel like it’s been cleaved in two?
I don’t even know the woman, yet her words cause all the grief and sadness encompassing that morbid period of my life to suddenly flood out.
“It’s my fault he abandoned you.” Angelica says, glazed eyes drifting her conscience into the past. “You see, many years ago my husband was in an accident which left him in a coma. He was stable but his health quickly deteriorated. Enzo was only a boy when it happened, he couldn’t assume what was rightfully his and if word got out of Mateo’s condition, then that would be the end us. Our family line would be slaughtered, our power stripped allowing the jackals to come running and steal the remains of our legacy. I couldn’t let it happen, so I assumed the power behind my husband's name. We told everyone that he hid due to a disfigurement and a few trusted individuals helped us to carry out the lie. It worked for many years, but then…the war began. We were small but powerful, yet other gangs were much bigger, and they began to band together against us. I sent Enzo away when he was sixteen to a school in America. If the truth unraveled, then at least he would have been saved. He had a new name, a fake story and it worked…until Mateo passed. A few loyalists turned on us, things spiraled out of my control and suddenly I needed him. My son who was barely a man. It was selfish but I couldn’t let what was left of Mateo be taken from me. I had already lost my husband twice and my son was the only hope of saving us.”
I pull a packet of tissues from my bag, handing them to her. She blinks in surprise at my rare act of kindness and even I struggle to comprehend my actions, driven by a strange conjuring of sympathy .
“Was it easy for him to leave?” He had crafted a life for himself as Leone, only to lose it all and walk back into the darkness alone.
She shakes her head. “He was broken. In fact as soon as he landed, he told me he couldn’t stay. He said he came to bring me back to America with him and that we would find ourselves a new life away from all the violence. He didn’t want it anymore. I hardly recognized my son and yet he was the picture of what I has always wanted for him as a baby…but after losing Mateo, I became obsessed with power. I grew our empire for our son to eventually take over and in my mind, there was no other path for him. We couldn’t lose our family legacy and I couldn’t walk away.”
“What did you do?” My voice cracks.
She swallows visibly, pulling her bag forward and I notice the sharp blade hidden within. “For my protection, not to harm you.”
I almost laugh, knowing that it must be bad if she suspects I would try to kill her because of it.
“I told him I needed to use the bathroom and then we could leave. Instead, I called one of the few trusted men still on our side. I ordered him to shoot me in my abdomen, just here so the bullet would draw enough blood to wound but not kill. He wore one of our rival’s masks and when I finally woke up after the wound, Enzo was sitting besides me, a haunted look on his face which I’ll never forget. To my left was the head of the man who waged the war upon us — it was his first kill. Within two days, Enzo had ended the war and saved us…but he was never the same.”
I force myself to look away, blinking back the agony that burns behind my eyes. Every part of me wants to reach out to him, wishing I could have followed him back and saved him from the damnation of his soul or stood by his side and fought alongside with him but even after…he didn’t come back for me.
Nine years of pain cannot be easily forgotten.
“Anastasia, please say something.”
“What is there to say?” A barely audible laugh passes from my lips. “You did what any mother would have done for her child. You did what I would have done and yet, I’m angry. I’m so angry at you for killing Leone.”
She dabs at her tears. “Trust me, you can’t hate me as much as I hate myself.
I scoff, ignoring the burn in my eyes. “Does he know?”
Shaking her head, I clench my jaw and try to stop myself from hurting her. “I’ll tell him, I promise, I just wanted you to know the whole truth first. I ruined his future once, but now you both have another chance. ”
I ignore that possibility, knowing it hurts too much to even contemplate. “Why didn’t he come back?”
“Once he made that move, he had secured himself as our leader. He couldn’t leave and I think part of him was terrified of corrupting the beautiful soul he met at school. We never spoke about you again, but it wasn’t until a few months ago when I showed him a picture of the new capo that we both realized your true identity. The girl I had torn him away from was now the only woman who could save us. It broke him again, knowing your souls were always bound to be as bloody as one another’s.”
I press my eyes shut, disallowing the tears to fall at what could have been.
What would I have done if he came back all those years ago as Enzo and not Leone?
There’s no point in dreaming up a fantasy.
Over the years I allowed the hate I felt towards him to fester. I nurtured it every night as I replayed the memories of us inside of my head, only to know it was a lie.
Every time I kicked out another one night stand, I blamed him. Each time I sat alone in my apartment, emptiness gnawing at me from the inside out, I blamed him.
How do I no longer see him as the villain?