39. Isabella
thirty-nine
Isabella
I let the robe fall from my body and look at my reflection in the mirror.
Bruises.
Bruises on my body, on my face.
Empty.
That’s how my body looks from the outside. From the inside, there is an inferno of emotions that can’t be shut down.
Desperation for what has been taken from me.
Desperation to feel his arms around me.
Desperation for him to tell me everything will be okay.
Desperation to just hear his voice.
He left me here, in the house he bought for us after I told him the hotel was not a home. I waited for him every day since the day I woke up. I waited with a glimmer of hope in my shattered heart.
I waited for him so we could mourn our baby.
The baby he never wanted.
The life he never wanted.
I would have forgiven him for all the hurtful things he said to me just so I could feel his arms around me.
But he is not here.
I was a fool thinking he would accept the baby. It was hard for me to understand his reason for not wanting it. When I told him I was pregnant, I hoped he would accept it. Accept our family. I had hopes that he would change his mind. But that was stupid of me. He never wanted that.
I place my palm on my stomach, and at the feeling of the emptiness inside me, I sob. My body shakes and I can’t take it anymore. I break down.
I fall on the floor, naked, and cry. With every sob, the questions grow.
Why?
Why couldn’t he just accept it?
Why couldn’t he love the baby?
Why did he hate it so much that I had to lose it?
I blame him. If he didn’t hurt me with his words and actions, I would have called him that day and wouldn’t have gone alone.
My sobs turn into wails, and I don’t know how long I stay on the floor. I only register when someone covers me and strong hands carry me to my bed.
It was already night when I recovered from my state. In the last few days, I have lost all sense of time. There’s no difference between day and night. They are the same.
Like I’m once again that girl who lost her mother and witnessed the terrifying crime of her father.
I pull the covers off me and slide from the bed. I look down at my body almost expecting to see my bruised and naked skin once again, but I don’t. Someone dressed me in sweatpants and a shirt.
I vaguely remember the smell of cherries and a soft voice, followed by strong hands and a woodsy smell. Gabriel. He was here. And with him was Valentina.
Sadness fills me. I almost expected Salvatore, but it wasn’t him. If Gabriel was here, that means he was checking on me because Salvatore didn’t want to.
On wobbly legs, I walk to the moonlight at the window in my room. I lift my face to the black sky and the tears just keep going.
I need Salvatore, and he isn’t here.
Just like he wasn’t here when I told him I was pregnant.
With my hands on my belly, I curl myself in a ball near the window. I can’t stop crying. The pain is too much to handle,
All my wishes and hopes have been taken away from me. All my dreams and wants.
The door opens, and my heart skips with the hope that this is Salvatore, that he came to me to share my pain. Our pain.
The sound of plates and the click of shoes say that this is a woman, not him.
“Isa.” Cecilia’s voice makes my head turn, and I sink into her arms when she sits next to me. I let go even more. This time, I have someone to hold me.
“Oh, sweetheart, just cry. I’m here.”
“He didn’t come, C. I haven’t seen him since the day I told him I was pregnant.”
“Crying is good. Let it all out. I’ll stay with you tonight. I’ll stay as long as you need, but you also need to eat.”
I look at the tray she brought in, and my stomach turns over.
“I can’t.” I shake my head and wipe my face with the back of my hand.
“You need to eat to regain your strength. Earlier today, Valentina found you naked on the floor. You were unconscious. The doctor said you need to eat.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to. You lost a lot of blood, Isa.” I wince, and my stomach contracts at the thought of it. At the thought of my empty belly.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Look at me.” She takes my face in her hand and looks me in the eyes. “You will eat, and you will recover. You are a strong woman; you can have another baby. But the time for crying is over. You can grieve as long as you want, but you can’t do that when you are starving yourself to death.”
I wrap my hands around her wrists that are holding my face. “I can’t. The tears don’t want to stop. My heart is broken. There will be no more babies. He doesn’t want that. He didn’t even want this one, and he hates me. He thinks I got pregnant to trap him. I’m sure he’s happy now, probably celebrating somewhere.”
Her brows knit. “Why would you say something like that?”
“He sent Gabriel here. He only comes when Salvatore is out of town or can’t be reached.”
“I don’t think it’s that, honey. But you don’t need a man. You are Isabella Ruggeri before you are his wife. You can have whatever you want. Your father is just waiting for you to go home. Don’t forget that.”
“How can I be something I hate so much?”
“Do you really hate it or is it just something you’re biased about because of what your mother told you?”
I sniffle. “What do you mean?”
“You are your father’s daughter. He will stand with you.”
“All he wanted was an heir, not me.”
“I don’t think that’s true. He said if you come back, you can decide what you want. And I think you should do that. Take the power he is giving you.”
Hours have passed since Cece was here and I thought about what she said. After hours of staring in the dark and the moon illuminating the darkness, I realize she is right. If Salvatore isn’t here and we don’t share the same wants and needs, then what is left for me here?
I look around my room, our room, and through the window. We turned this room into our bedroom so we could see stars and moonlight.
I smile sadly at the moon lighting my window.
This is it.
This is what he meant when he said we aren’t meant to be together.
I can see it now and it is time for me to move on.
There is no escape from what is going to happen.
There is no future for me here anymore.
It is time for me to embrace who I really am.
It is time to take my life in my hands. To take back the power that has been taken away from me.