Bonus #5
Guilt and regret, leaking over the edges, neutralized any pain his injuries might have caused.
The worst wound, the one in his heart, shrunken with the shame he felt for himself, nothing and no one could numb.
There was a hole bleeding in his chest. Not even seeing the worm’s blood had been able to soften the rage he felt, and beforehand Thor knew that even if he gave the other two sons of bitches the same fate as Benjamin, not even that would be able to lessen his anger.
Breathing deeply, Thor leaned his head against the seat and closed his eyes.
I am so fucked.
***
Three months later
Dusk was falling outside the mansion walls.
Inside, silence filled every room with the suffocating feeling of sadness.
Everything was so fucking calm, bringing mourning to every corner.
And no one was safe. The employees moved softly through their tasks, no long conversations or laughter, only low, laconic whispers in corners.
Everyone seemed to share the state of mind of the master of the house.
On the second floor, in the room that had been Ella’s, Thor remained seated, motionless, on the edge of the bed while his gloomy gaze pierced the folded paper in his hands, as if the act could somehow make the words contained there change.
Since Martha had given him the note Ella had left before leaving, he hadn’t dared read it.
He was busy looking for Norah and needed his mind focused, he told himself on the nights he found himself tempted to read it and end that anguish once and for all, but he lacked courage.
He didn’t have a good feeling and didn’t want to confirm his fear.
But what else could he expect?
A declaration of love?
“I’m waiting for you.”
He inhaled deeply, closing and opening his eyes.
He could have sworn he was able to smell her.
It was faint, almost imperceptible, but still there, bringing memories that were not so sweet.
The words sworn in desperation, the flooded eyes and pleas when she had tried to make him see the truth.
Everything was there, carved into his mind, making his chest burn slow and constant, consuming until nothing remained. Without restraint.
Every time Antonella had tried to open his eyes, when she had sworn innocence, and even when he hadn’t given her one fucking opening, Antonella had sworn she loved him…
She had fought for them. And he, like a perfect idiot, had mocked her words.
Now they were like daggers in his heart, swollen with remorse.
Thor could not decide what hurt more: having made a joke of her feelings, or the real possibility of never being able to repair his mistakes with her.
Not even his hatred for Norah could equal what he felt toward himself.
He breathed deeply for the second time, filling his chest with determination.
There was no point playing the coward when the shit was spread everywhere and he was wallowing in it…
Thor then unfolded the paper and began to read.
Heithor,
I don’t know why the fuck I’m writing. After all, you haven’t cared about me
I’m going
Maybe my attitude will make you hate me more and, in your eyes, make me more dangerous, but it’s
When you read these words, I’ll probably be far from this hell
I know you won’t believe it, but…
Yesterday I discovered Ben owns the shoes I saw before I lost consciousness.
Do you remember them? Do you know what that means?
That you, like a perfect idiot, always looking for a reason to justify your distrust of me, clung to the lie he told you.
After all, that was why you kept the damn agreement even after we reconciled, wasn’t it?
However, I understand you, because it’s hard to make room for a shitty love when you were more concerned with punishing me for your own cowardice. But you know what? It doesn’t matter anymore, not you, not this fucking love of yours, because you broke my heart…
I did terrible things, but I never, never lied to you.
Honestly, I don’t expect you to believe me. Actually, after what you’ve done to me, it’s absurd to expect such a thing from someone
I hope that for Lucca, for the love you have for him, at least this time, you use your fucking head for something worthwhile… I will never forgive you…
Antonella
Thor didn’t notice the tears wetting his face until the letters rippled and vanished.
Thick drops fell onto the paper while his hands trembled as he reread the words.
Breathing became difficult. In every fucking word, he could feel her anguish on his skin, the despair in the unfinished sentences marked by the crossed-out lines, as if she were adrift, exhausted, and didn’t know what to say.
Her pain in each letter marked more than once by the pen.
This was certainly not a difficult scene to imagine, given that he had a pile of images of her pleading with him. It was only a matter of adding more now that everything had been clarified, and the final result drove nails into his chest.
Thor ran his eyes over the lines several more times, his fingers trembling as they crushed the fragile paper, then folded it, shoved it into the pocket of his jeans, and wiped his face.
Going to the open window, he stopped, sliding his hands into his pants pockets while his gaze lost itself in the night outside.