Chapter 49 Allegra
ALLEGRA
Leaving my cane in a nook outside the fence of the house, I right my clothes, feeling uncomfortable in the glitzy dress. My face, too, is full of makeup in an attempt to emulate the photos I'd seen of Chiara online.
She certainly hadn't wasted any time making her entrance into society.
Tabloids upon tabloids had documented her crazy escapades as well as her disposable paramours, all of them somehow excusing the blatant fact that she's already married. Her sexcapades are so famous there are even sex tapes of her on porn sites—with my fucking face.
Why couldn't Enzo ask the doctors to give me a new face? At least then I wouldn't have to walk around knowing that Chiara's destroyed my entire life.
Holding my head high, I try to emulate Chiara's mannerisms—mostly her snobbery. I enter the house without making eye contact with anyone and without acknowledging the staff. After all, Chiara doesn't care about the people lower than her.
When I successfully get inside the house, I'm suddenly struck by the familiarity of it all.
Home… It had once been home.
Taking a deep breath, I refuse to let myself dwell in melancholy. I have one purpose.
But as I scour the house, I realize I have no idea where Luca's room is. It's only when I hear a small giggle that my heart seizes and I grasp onto that sound, following it until I reach the second floor. The door is half-open, and I stop right outside to peer into the room.
Luca, my beautiful boy, is on the floor trying to build something with Lego. There's someone else with him, his governess, probably, and she's helping him choose his pieces carefully.
I raise my hand to my mouth, muffling a sob as I watch my baby boy, so grown, so handsome. He looks like Enzo, and you can barely see a trace of me in him. With his raven hair and his green eyes, he's like a doll come to life.
Tears are gathering in the corners of my eyes, bottled emotions threatening to spill over.
A gasp escapes me, and Luca's governess notices me standing at the door.
"Signora," she starts, her tone none too pleasant.
"My husband is in the hospital. I came to sit with Luca for a bit," I lie through my teeth, hoping I'm a good enough actress to pull this off.
"Hospital? What happened?" She gets to her feet, her expression worried.
Not too young but not too old either, the governess isn't bad to look at. But her sudden concern is interesting.
My God, did he fuck her too?
I don't want to dwell on that question as I force myself to seem normal.
"There was a shooting gone wrong. He's fine for now," I explain a little, all the while my eyes are focused on the boy in the background who is looking at me curiously.
"You can take a lunch break while I sit with Luca. I won't be long," I make up some other commitment, knowing that Chiara would never spend too much time with a child.
"I don't know…" she looks between the two of us. "Signor Enzo told me to always sit with Luca, even when you're home," she continues, looking conflicted.
"Just a quarter of an hour. I won't mention it if you won't," I attempt a smile, begging the gods for a miracle.
"I guess I could take an earlier lunch break," she finally relents and pushes the door wider for me to go in. "I'll come back in fifteen."
A mere fifteen minutes, but it will be the happiest fifteen minutes of my life.
"Hi, Luca," I say, struggling to crouch on the floor. My legs feel wooden as I will them to bend properly, the strain of walking without a cane already taking a toll on me.
"Hi," he says in a small voice, clutching a small Lego piece to his chest.
"What are you building?" I motion to the foundation he's already built.
"A replica of the house," he answers shyly, lowering his chin to gaze anywhere but at me. He's behaving as if I'm a stranger…
"Luca, do you know who I am?" I ask, wanting to know how much to torture Chiara before her death for usurping my place so shamelessly…for taking my child.
"Yes," he whispers, red spreading from his neck to his cheeks. "You're my mamma. But papa says I shouldn't call you that." That small admission breaks my heart.
I may feel sorry for myself for not being there for my baby's first years of life, but what of him? What of the boy who didn't have a mother? Because I'm sure Chiara is as motherly as a viper.
"You can call me mamma if you want. It will be our little secret," I say, greedy to hear that one word I'd waited for so long. I'd imagined him calling me that ever since he was in my womb. I'd spend my nights with my hand on my bump, picturing holding my little one in my arms.
"Really?" He still seems unsure, so I assure him that he can, but only if he's comfortable.
"Okay, mamma," he gives me a timid smile, and I try to blink the tears away, failing utterly.
"Why are you crying?" he asks, quickly rising from his seat and coming toward me. He's standing in front of me, his small brows wiggling in confusion. "Are you sad?"
I shake my head. How could I ever explain to him what this moment means to me?
"I'm happy," I say, smiling through my tears. "So, so very happy. And you know why?"
He shakes his head, still looking at me with his big, luminous eyes.
"Because Luca's here, next to me. And that makes me very happy," I tell him, my hands trembling in my lap with a need to touch him, my eyes still leaking like a waterfall.
"But you're crying." He frowns at me. "I only cry when I'm hurt," he states solemnly.
"Sometimes, people also cry when they're happy."
"Do you need a hug then? Papa always says hugs take the hurt away. But if you're not hurt…" he trails off, visibly confused.
"I'd love a hug, Luca. If you want to give me one," I quickly respond, amazed at the opportunity in front of me. I hold out my arms for him to hug me, anticipation building inside me.
His lips stretch into a smile and he effortlessly slides between my arms, his tiny ones wrapping around my rib cage as he places his head on my chest.
The last time I felt him this close was when he was suckling at my breast.
I close my arms around him, grasping him to my chest and putting all my love into this hug. One hand goes higher, cupping his head so I can lay a kiss on his forehead.
"Mamma loves you, Luca," I say, my voice clogged with emotion, "so, so very much."
He doesn't respond, and I'm rather relieved he doesn't, because that would mean he loves that woman, and not me.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes shrewdly assessing me.
I finally give in to my wish and touch my hand to his cheek, feeling his warmth.
"You're such a good boy, Luca. Your papa must be proud of you." I praise him, bringing the conversation to a more comfortable topic.
"He is," he immediately replies. "He always tells me he's proud of me." For the first time, Luca gives me a full smile, his small white teeth glinting in the sunlight.
"I'm proud of you too, you know." His eyes widen in wonder, and I feel compelled to continue. "I may never say it, but I am. You're my darling boy," I say, circling my thumb across his cheek, imprinting this moment in my memory.
It will be my anchor as I set out to take back everything they stole from me.
"Signora," the governess's voice startles me. I drop my hand from Luca, and I say a short goodbye.
He's quickly immersed in his Legos again and doesn't even seem to notice me leaving.
Ignoring the cramps in my legs, I hold it all in as I put on my best nonchalant expression, wiping the tears from my face to make sure I don't come across as odd.
"Thank you. I'm going to leave now," I say before reluctantly removing my gaze from Luca and leaving the room. I walk out slowly, holding on to the railing of the staircase to avoid any more injury to my legs.
All the while, I feel something new blooming inside my chest. Something familiar yet foreign.
He called me mamma.
I'm still stunned, replaying his soft voice in my head as he'd said the word.
It's everything I needed to push through.
Wait for me, Luca… Mamma is coming back.