Chapter 45
Chapter forty-five
You Can’t Please Everyone
Sophia
“You can’t please everyone.” Words of wisdom my dad imparted to me when I was growing up and dealing with teenager problems—fights with friends, disagreements with judgmental teachers, being overlooked for the debate team.
The mantra brought me great comfort to quell the sting of rejection and disappointment.
Ironically, it’s the same mantra I repeat this afternoon as Marco and I prepare to make our way to my parents’ house to…what? Reveal our new relationship status? Advise them of my update of address? All the above.
After a waking up mid-morning cocooned in Marco’s bed, our legs tangled and his furnace of a body pressed to my back along with something else begging for my attention, I woke him up with a morning blow job as promised before we both passed out.
Then I attended to the ridiculous amount of notifications littering my screen. Missed calls from both my parents. Followed up by a text from my father with a screenshot of GG’s latest blog post, demanding I come home and explain myself.
But all I have are so many questions. Like, how the hell did she get those pictures for the blog? Did she hire someone to follow me? Why does she even care what I do, and why fuck is my dad reading that fucking blog?
I’m too wound up to eat, so Marco makes us coffee and then we take his black Range Rover to my parents’ to grab what I need to bring back home.
In the short time I’ve been there, it already feels like my safe place.
On my way, I listen to a new voicemail, this one from Nonna.
She may speak broken English, but she’s fully across my relationship status update with Marco.
And if her voicemail is anything to go by, she’s already planning our wedding.
Smiling to myself at her antics, I bring the phone away from my ear and deal with the chat thread with my brothers.
Raf:
Any guesses for how I was woken this morning? Let’s start with you, Sophia.
Raf:
Radio silence. I see. What about you, Luca?
Raf:
Also crickets? Well, let me fill you both in. I was woken by having my eardrums assaulted by our father, ranting and raving about some fucking blog post and pictures of his “gallivanting daughter” and “lovesick idiot of a son.”
Me:
Sorry, I was asleep. It was a bit of an eventful night.
Me:
Also, I’m moving in with Marco. And I’m on my way over to Mom and Dad’s to tell them. So maybe prepare yourself for more ranting.
Raf:
FML
Sebastian:
Can’t say I’m the least bit surprised. Congratulations? Commiserations? Either way, Marco might be a surly fucker, but he’s the best guy I know.
Luca:
Good move, sis. No pun intended.
Raf:
Do whatever makes you happy. But don’t make it my problem. I don’t need more shit to deal with.
Me:
Thanks, guys. Appreciate your support.
“Oh my God, Raf has been in such a foul mood,” I huff.
“Luca told him he needs to get laid,” Marco snickers, “and that he’d even pay for someone to put us all out of our misery dealing with his royal grumpiness.”
“I say this lightly because we all know Luca does not have the best track record for making sound decisions, but that could actually be one of his best ideas.”
Before I move onto the next person on the list, I fire off one last message.
Me:
Raf, the boys are right. You need to get laid—fast—because, quite frankly, I don’t want to put up with your shit mood either. Glad we have that sorted. See you at work on Monday, Boss.
When we pull up to my parents’ place, I can’t stop the anxiety swirling in the pit of my stomach. I’ve never been afraid to stand up to my father, but today feels monumental. Marco must sense my nerves.
“Hey, baby, look at me. If you don’t want to do this or you’re having doubts…”
“No. I’m not having doubts at all. It’s just the circumstances.
All I want is for him to respect that I can make my own decisions, to see me as an adult and not a little girl that he can still overrule.
It just feels like the only way to make him proud is to give up my freedom of choice—and I won’t do that. ”
Leaning over the center console, he cups my face with one hand and kisses me hard. “I’m proud of you, and I’ll tell you every day to the day I die. We don’t need his validation. We have each other and I’ll always be in your corner no matter what. That’s what counts.”
He kisses me once more before he leans back and retrieves a sealed envelope from the back seat. He quickly gets out and rounds the car to open my door for me. I don’t have time to ask him about it before he entwines our fingers and walks us to the front door.
I use my key to open it and call out. My dad meets us in the foyer. He says nothing to me. Just levels me with a disappointed glare, letting me read his disapproval loud and clear. He demands to speak with Marco in his office, striding off without so much as a glance back.
It stings, but I put on a brave face. Marco places a soft kiss to my forehead to calm my nerves before following him into his office, taking the envelope with him. I don’t envy him. The look in my father’s eye was feral.
Marco’s dad, Samuel, is one of the very few men in my dad’s inner circle that he totally trusts. They’ve been friends for over thirty years, so I just can’t make sense of why he’s so against me being with Marco. Something doesn’t add up, and I need to get to the bottom of it.