Chapter 9 #2
My eyes snapped open. My chest tight. There was this rough lump suffocating my throat and a wet trail running down the corners of my eyes.
The dream never changed since my father’s visit three days before.
Reliving the moment even in unconsciousness was too painful, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Even so, I was doing my best to control myself.
Marcela had been categorical when she warned me to avoid stressful situations, otherwise, we would have complications.
I was aware she hadn’t told me everything, though she had left her real concern implied beneath polite words, maybe to spare me from greater strain.
The bleeding I’d had, even if small, was proof of the gravity.
And I would do anything for my baby, even erase myself, if it meant his well-being.
But sometimes, it was impossible to dodge the painful words, the gaze full of unwanted feelings. Thinking about what my life would be like now.
I hadn’t left the room since returning from the hospital. Which had resulted in constant knocks at my door and irritation on my part. I understood everyone’s concern about my confinement, and I also knew they thought the best thing for me was to be surrounded by them. But it wasn’t.
In my room, I could have my grief.
Crying was good. Thinking too.
The memories, as bad as they were, gave me the fuel I needed not to surrender to depression.
Because even hearing my living-dead father say those horrible things to me had not devastated me as much as waking up in the hospital with a real risk of losing my baby.
The terrifying fear had been so intense I could feel it like a solid presence.
Remembering those feelings only reaffirmed my certainty that I could endure losing everything and everyone, except my baby.
And it was that certainty that kept me from falling into the abyss of bitterness.
I swung my legs out of bed, casting a look toward the window.
The feeling of emptiness was a hole in my chest, growing larger and larger.
Night had fallen again, and the breath of wind swaying the curtain carried the pleasant smell of rain.
It wasn’t long before the first drops hit the glass.
It was a calm, fine rain, the kind that lasts all night.
I closed the door on my way into the bathroom.
While I showered, I remembered Gamble.
Talking to Gamble had allowed me to reflect on my struggles, on how difficult it had been. And despite the conflicting barriers I found inside myself with every new battle fought, in the end, the reward made every smallest effort worth it.
I had made many mistakes, some very stupid, but everyone does, right?
Youth is a field of mistakes.
I returned to the room with my cell phone ringing wildly, but before I reached it, it stopped. I sat on the bed with the iPhone in my hands.
Mamma
9 Missed Calls
I stayed still, staring at it, thinking of nothing.
Bzzzzz! Bzzzzz!
I startled in fright, then breathed deeply.
“Mamma?”
“How could you, Antonella?”
“Mom, forgive me, I can explain.”
“Explain what? That you lied to your family? That you deceived us as if we were a pile of nothing? What hurts me most, Antonella, is that you did this to me, your mother. I gave birth to you, girl! I cared for you and watched over you. And for what? For you to hide something this important from me? I can even understand not wanting to tell your father, but me? I am your mother. Or did you forget that, Antonella? Did moving countries make you forget me? I must have done something very wrong with you, or I was not the good mother I believed I was.”
I sniffed, feeling a wet trail on my cheek.
“Forgive me. I made a mistake. I should have told you, but…”
“How many months, Antonella?”
“Rocco didn’t say?”
“Antonella! Your father only told me just now. And that was after much insistence from me, and now he’s locked in that damned office.
In fact, he has been there since he returned and refuses to talk to me about it.
Not even your grandfather managed to get him out of there or get him to say more than what he told me.
So yes, I am mad as hell. And it would cost me nothing to take the family jet and fly myself over there just to give you the spanking I owe you. So again, do not tempt me, girl!”
“I’ll be six months in a few days,” I answered softly.
The line went silent for a long moment, and I didn’t dare speak.
“You…” she began, paused, and then spoke again as if putting the pieces together in her mind.
“You are almost six months pregnant, and only now, through your father’s mouth, do I learn that I’m going to be a grandmother.
Which means, when I spoke to you a few months ago and you came with that talk of regret, you were already pregnant.
I even suspected it and questioned you, remember?
But you guaranteed me no, and I, like an idiot, believed you because I thought you would not be capable of hiding anything from me, especially something as important as a pregnancy, and that if that ever happened, I would be the first to know. ”
“I’m so sorry…”
“Do not speak, Antonella! Don’t you dare utter a single peep.
Your turn to talk has already come and gone.
Now it’s my turn.” I could imagine her pacing back and forth while running a hand through her hair, one thread away from losing her mind.
“I am so, so disappointed in you. So wounded and hurt that I can barely reason properly, much less listen to explanations for the inexplicable. And contrary to what you think, girl, I am not so naive as to think you would marry immaculate. I knew this could happen there. It was a possibility. I know how it is. I was your age once too. But I expected you to at least come and tell me, ask for my advice, take care of yourself so a moment of pleasure didn’t turn into a problem.
I thought you trusted me. God! Do you have any idea of the size of your responsibility now?
I don’t understand. Where did I go wrong with you?
When did I begin to fail in raising you?
… I cannot speak with you now, Antonella. I truly cannot.”
“Mom, please, listen to m…” I said quickly, but she had already hung up.
I rolled my lip between my teeth, trying in vain to contain the trembling in my chin.
“Can I come in?”
I didn’t answer, didn’t even look. I was absorbed in my shame, terrified in my humiliation, anesthetized by the pulsing pain opening an abyss in my chest.
Thor sat beside me without saying a word. I didn’t react, not even when his hand wrapped around mine, his thumb brushing the back of my hand.
“Did you get over it?”
“What?”
I turned my head enough to see him through the tears.
“The loss of your parents. Did you get over it?”
Thor seemed surprised, then pondered. “With time, we end up getting used to the pain and the absence they leave. We learn to deal with both, and everything becomes more bearable. The pain falls asleep as time passes, but it never disappears completely. It never goes away completely. I had to learn quickly how to deal with mine, for myself and for Pietra, who was still very small at the time…”
He continued, but I was no longer paying attention.
I could get used to it too. I could be strong that way.
I was drifting when Thor’s fingers held my chin, turning my face toward him.
I blinked, and a few tears fell. Thor looked at me in a way I couldn’t read, or maybe I didn’t have enough strength, because the little I had left I was using not to fall apart when all I wanted was to loosen my control and have someone catch me on the way down.
“Ella, don’t you dare think like that. It isn’t the same thing, do you hear me?
” he scolded in a soft voice. “My parents are gone, but yours are still here. And although this moment now makes you think the opposite, they will always love you regardless of what happens between you. This is only a bad phase that will soon pass.”
I lowered my gaze, humiliated, sick, not wanting him to see my emotions. “It won’t.”
“Look at me,” he asked, and when I did, he ran his thumbs beneath my eyes, but the tears kept coming.
“Listen carefully. Rocco and Selena will always be your parents. That fact will never change, no matter how upset they are. And despite your father’s actions, he loves you.
Those foolish words were said without thinking, in the heat of anger.
You know very well how unfair we can be and how many stupid things we can say when we’re furious.
Rocco is probably suffering as much as you are.
This hurt will not last forever. You haven’t lost him, or anyone in your family.
Give it time, and you’ll see how everything will settle. ”
I tipped my head back.
Working around the knot in my throat, I said:
“My hesitation to tell them was never because I wanted to hide the baby from them. It’s not like that would be possible either, except if…
I knew all of this would happen the moment he found out.
It was wrong. I only tried to delay it… As if that would change anything…
Mamma and the others may even accept and forgive me when the hurt passes, if it passes.
But Rocco will never forgive or accept me. ”
“You can’t say that.”
“Oh, I can! You don’t know Dad… He was very serious…
In three days, I lost my family. You’re an orphan of dead parents, and I’m one of living ones.
Ironic, isn’t it?” I stared at him, with a twisted smile, barely seeing him.
“You’re not going to take my baby from me too, are you?
He’s the only thing I have now, and if you take him from me, I won’t have anything left. I can’t be without him. I-I… I…”
Thor pulled me against his body. I didn’t resist, sinking my head into his chest, my fingers curled into his shirt while the tears leapt free.