15. Isabella
fifteen
Isabella
I wake up with a start, my eyes hurting from the light when I open them. I squint and groan. And then it hits me; I should have been awake hours ago. Before sunrise, to be at the docks to meet Mauro.
I probably passed out from lack of sleep since Salvatore showed up here. Thinking about his determination that I forgive him, about how his proximity makes me want to forget my pain and act on my feelings of lust has made it hard for me to rest.
I keep thinking about what he said to me, how he will do anything to get me back. About how he regrets everything that happened, and how he did a lot of reflecting. In some parallel universe, that might work, but I live in the real one. The man I married and got to know isn’t the one he is pretending to be.
I groan and turn over, where I’m greeted with a perfect red rose and a note.
I sit up and take the rose, inhaling the smell. My thoughts transport me to the rose garden and back to some other time.
I open my eyes and take the note.
I hurt you, broke your heart, and I paid for it.
I deserve everything and more.
But I also deserve a second chance, my love.
Yes, you are my love.
My heart.
Something I never thought I’d need, and I will beg for forgiveness as long as I’m alive.
Love, Salvatore
I blink, and a tear falls down my cheek. For all the time we spent together, he never said the word or anything close to it.
He says he’s paid for what he’s done to me, but what does that mean? My eyebrows furrow as I remember wondering how he got here.
I look around the room for any evidence of him being here, but there is none. The windows are closed, and so is my door.
I think about the fact that he disappeared a couple of nights ago after he showed up here, drunk. I couldn’t watch Pino dragging him away and kicking him. I let that happen because I wanted him gone. Gone from this place, this country.
Gone from my mind.
Gone from my heart.
But when I asked about him the next morning, the answer I got was not one I anticipated.
Salvatore was gone, like the Earth opened up and swallowed him alive. Obviously, that didn’t happen since, according to the note and the rose, he was here in my room.
Did he stay? Did he watch me sleep?
I shrug at the feeling of satisfaction and get out of bed. I open the drawer of my nightstand and take out a wooden box decorated with red roses. One that belong to my mother. The box I hide for special things.
I open the box and place the note on top of my wedding ring. I kept it there not for its value, because it is a plain platinum ring, but for the sentiment. A reminder of what I had and lost.
I close the box and place it back in the drawer, then I take the rose and cut it short so it can fit in my journal. I open it and place it inside, leaving it on the nightstand before I make my way into the bathroom and get ready for the day.
I arrive at the docks with Pino to meet with Mauro and the crew responsible for shipments. After the other night, we need to regroup and plan other routes. There are two hundred kilos of white powder scheduled to be docked in a few days. We’ve delayed that for now by letting the captain drift the ship into the water slowly, but unfortunately, there is only a limited amount of time he is allowed to do that. We don’t need the coastguard on our back as well.
I tighten my coat to shield myself from the wind from the ocean, Pino and I walk side by side toward the men gathered at the side of the containers.
When we arrive, their chatter stops, and all eyes turn toward us. I can feel the tension in the air. They don’t have to say a thing. I know their concerns. They’ve probably already heard what happened to Giovanni, and what he did.
“If you have something to say, say it now. Later, it will be too late.” I look each one of them in the eye as I speak.
They don’t speak, but I see how they look at each other and, with Mauro here, I can only assume he knows their concerns.
Mauro clears his throat, bringing my attention to him and proving to me that I was right. “We have some issues. The Carabinieri haven’t left this area. They keep circling around and showing up with every ship that docks here.”
I nod in understanding. “I know. I saw them on my way here. The ship with our goods can’t keep drifting slowly in the waters forever, though.”
“So, what’s the plan? Do we have one?” Mauro's puzzled look is directed only at me.
“Yes. Tonight, at ten p.m., you will take four of them.” I look at the dozen men in front of me. “I will not tell you who you should take. That’s on you. But they need to be strong and good swimmers. I have made an agreement with one of the fishermen, Roberto. In exchange for something only I know about, he will take you to the coordinates I give you. He will take you instead of his crew. You will sail with him into the waters until you reach the ship with the goods. The captain has already been informed, and you don’t need to worry about him. He is my concern.” I take a deep breath, studying the faces before me, looking for just a moment of uneasiness from any one of them, but I don’t see it, so I continue. “The fisherman will drift his boat beside the ship, and you will have exactly two hours to transfer the goods into the Roberto’s boat. We have been lucky he didn’t sell any fish this morning. He will provide enough Styrofoam fish boxes and ice for the goods before it’s covered with fish.” Some of the men nod in understanding. “Any questions thus far?”
“What about fisherman Roberto? Is he trustworthy? How can you be sure he won’t say anything?” one of the men asks. He is a little older than the rest of the crew, and I recognize him by the scar on his face from one of the gatherings my father held.
I bite the inside of my cheek. Why Roberto is willing to do this is something only Pino and I know. “I can assure you he will not speak. His fishing crew is resting, a decision made as a result of not selling the fish. There will be a refrigerated truck waiting for you at the fishing docks. You will transfer the goods with the fish there and the driver will bring the goods to the usual place.”
“What if someone catches us, like a coastguard or the Carabinieri?” someone asks.
“With this job comes certain risks, and you should know that since you have been doing this job as long as you knew who you were. However, this route is riskier because you are going into the unknown. We will handle the coastguard for tonight, but with the Carabinieri, I can’t guarantee anything. It is a risk you will need to take.”
I don’t have to wait before a tall, fit young man says, “I’ll go.”
He’s followed by three more volunteers, and Mauro has a proud grin on his face. He trained those men well.
After the long day of coordinating new routes and changing plans because of that bastard Gio, I was hungry and exhausted, and I wasn’t the only one. The men were in the same position, only they survived on cigarettes and coffee. I survived on coffee, sans the cigarettes.
I barely ate before I showered and washed the exhaustion from my body. I don’t know when I fell asleep, but I know when I woke up because the smell of roses was in my nostrils.
And just like yesterday, a single rose and a note waited for me on the pillow beside me.
I don’t want you to forgive me if you can’t.
I don’t want you to forget if you can’t.
But at least let me try to deserve you again.
Let me try to make us whole again.
Love, Salvatore
He was in my room again. I smile and shake my head, trying not to feel the butterflies in my stomach. I get out of bed, and like yesterday, I place the note inside the box and the rose on my nightstand for my journal.
I get ready for the day, knowing that the shipment is about to be delivered in the truck, just as we arranged yesterday. I haven’t received any calls, and that only means one thing. Everything went as planned.
My heart fills with the satisfaction of success, and the words that Salvatore left for me makes me feel like, today, nothing is impossible.
So, when I leave my house, I focus on the business and how to protect myself from another misdemeanor like the one with Gio if I want to live in the real world and not end up behind bars.
Weeks passed by between organizing shipments and the usual jobs at the club, and I kept waking up to the smell of roses, and the words on the notes crushed my walls slowly each day. The latest one has just one sentence.
Being without you is torture.
Love, Salvatore
I smile as I get ready for another day, only because I feed on his torture and pain. Pain that is mine too. I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels that way.
“I heard that your plan for the transfer of the goods was successful,” my father proudly mentions at the breakfast. My father has been watching my every move, even if he doesn’t show it. Not because he doesn’t trust me, he is like a mentor watching over his student with a proud look in his eyes.
I smile as I take a sip of my cappuccino. “It needed to be done. You know as well as I do that our business depends on that shipment.”
“Yes, and I’m so proud of how you handled the situation. Now I know you can handle anything. You’ve had a lot of happening lately and you took care of it. I’m still mad I didn’t get rid of that idiot Giovanni sooner.”
I take his hand that lies on the table and squeeze it slightly. “Don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have known what he would do.”
“I know. Still, I’m your father, and I will worry about you until I take my last breath.”
I smile at him. “I know.”
He clears his throat. “Tell me, is your husband still in the country?”
I bite my inner cheek and think of an appropriate answer to tell my father. “I’m not sure. Pino can’t find him. He swears he tied him up on a chair down in the cellar, but when he came back in the morning, Salvatore was gone.” I, of course, will not tell him that I’ve been receiving roses and notes from him. Maybe I’m being reckless, but I want this one small secret to keep for myself.
“Hmm.” I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. He drinks his espresso in one go and stands. “Have a nice day, Bella, and as always, be careful.”
I watch dumbfounded as he leaves. Is that it? He won’t say anything else? Confused, I finish my breakfast before I text Pino that I’m ready for our meeting today, ignoring the fact that my father nor Pino didn’t ask more about Salvatore’s whereabouts and how he escaped the cellar.
A strange feeling of being watched takes over me, followed by sweat and a heat that spreads along my body, waking me up. I stir from the dream I was having, where I was happy. My breathing quickens, and I raise myself up on my elbows, my eyes roaming the room.
I look through the window where the sun has started to rise. I turn and look to the other side of the bed. Is there a dip? It looks like someone was sitting there.
My eyes drift to the pillow on the other side of the bed, and there it is, a rose and a note.
He was here, like always. Now I’m sure he was watching me sleep. I take the rose and the note from the pillow and place them in my lap before I take the pillow and bury my nose inside it and inhale.
Salvatore was here.
He slept on this pillow. I smile into it, hugging it as I inhale his spicy scent.
Is this what he’s been doing the whole time? Watching me sleep? Leaving before I wake up and leaving the rose and note on the pillow for me to find.
I exhale and lie back, taking the pillow in one hand and the rose and the note in the other.
I lie on my side with my head on the pillow with Salvatore’s scent and read the note for today.
I want you to sleep in my arms again.
I want to inhale your scent before I fall asleep.
I want to inhale your scent when I wake up.
Love, Salvatore.
P.S.
By now, you should have guessed that I sneak into your room every night.
The question is, why aren’t you doing anything about it?
I inhale his scent one more time before I go back to sleep, hugging the pillow and the note, thinking about his question.
The days have become too long; I keep looking at my watch for when the day will be over so I can go back home, eat my dinner, and get ready for bed.
For the past week, all I wanted was to go to sleep, even if I wasn’t tired, just so I could wake up the next day and find a rose and a note from Salvatore.
I never told anyone. It’s a guilty pleasure, and I’m keeping it to myself.
My thoughts spiral every day. How long is he willing to keep this going, asking for my forgiveness? Am I ready to forgive him? Do I want that? What happens if I do?
All these questions are overwhelming me, and I ignore them and fall into the bliss of the notes that keep showing on my pillow.
At night, I can feel his eyes on me, but I let dreams take me and keep sleeping in the bliss of knowing Salvatore is watching me. Knowing he is suffering.
But what do I want?
I miss being with him. I miss his touch. As I think about him, I’m realizing I don’t know much about him as a person. I don’t know his favorite color, or the music he listens to.
Our marriage started as a deal, turned into lust, turned into love. I saw pieces of him. Ones no one else has. But that is all I got from him. I have a lot to learn about him, and I know these small notes are helping me because men like him don’t show how fragile they are to anyone.
And him showing it to me has to mean something.
I just need to find out what that means to me. Can I move on and forgive him?