Chapter 1 #2
I barely touched my food and couldn’t follow the conversation around the table, and when we were done, I left Lucca with my parents in the living room and took some time on the balcony.
With the thick card burning in my hand, I stared at the lake on the horizon.
I was petrified inside, but now I could identify the fury.
My inertia was a defense mechanism that wouldn’t work in the long run.
For a long time, when I was forced to stop licking my wounds and whining in corners like some poor victim, I chose not to feel.
Not to think. I isolated myself inside my reparative bubble when, finally, I could breathe with relief after coming to Milan, knowing Thor had the truth I had been telling him for so long.
Going only to work, to the market, and to the park on weekends with my baby.
I wasn’t alone. I had Lucca. But it was lonely.
I was so focused on being for Lucca what I had to be that the rest simply didn’t matter to me.
I had a goal, and nothing and no one was diverting me from it.
All that effort took its toll. I received a few invitations to socialize with the agency people, but I didn’t have time for that.
I was too busy gathering what was left of me to recreate a new self.
And now…
It was like being thawed and forced into a reality I didn’t want… Forced into feelings that corroded me as if powdered caustic soda had been thrown on my skin.
That anger still burned, slowly.
Hatred weighed in my chest, feeding the desire for revenge.
I was so, so pissed that I felt shocked.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to curse.
I wanted to hurt.
I wanted to make it hurt.
I wanted to cut and watch the blood run…
And all this dark hunger with sharp teeth only made me hate even more, because I hated feeling this way… The idea of hurting hurt me, enraged me.
How stupid could that be?
I huffed a laugh, my eyes burning with tears.
I shoved the card into the back pocket of my jeans, breathed deeply to force the tears back, and masked the turbulence inside me before turning around.
My parents were approaching. Lucca was in my mother’s arms. He was absorbed in making bubbles with his mouth and tugging at her hair, and she didn’t seem to care in the least that her grandson wanted to leave her bald.
I walked with them to the set of sofas and chairs and settled in, watching Selena with Lucca.
“Can I stay here tonight?”
Mamma looked at me as if I had a second head.
“What kind of question is that? Of course you can stay. Grandma will love waking up and seeing this beautiful little boy first thing in the morning… Yes, you’ll love it too, my love? You will, won’t you?”
“Thank you.”
“Will you come with us to Mass on Sunday?” she asked.
“Of course.”
Lucca stretched his little arms toward me, and I took him. “Hey, little lion, did you have fun pulling nonna’s hair out?” Lucca grabbed my finger hard. I watched him sway and babble, drooling all over, trapped inside myself.
Mom was saying something I didn’t hear, but I nodded out of politeness.
“You’re quiet.”
I guided my gaze to papà.
“It was a hard week.”
“It wouldn’t be if you would let us—”
“Mom!”
Frustration crossed her face.
“Okay. I won’t say anything else, but that doesn’t make it any less true.”
There was no point arguing with her. We had different opinions, and neither of us was giving in. Good thing we respected each other.
“I hope that really is why and not because of the flowers you’ve been receiving.” My father’s strong voice pulsed in my head, and I lifted my gaze.
“How do you know that…?”
“I know everything that happens in my company, carina.”
Of course he did! He wouldn’t be Rocco Vicenti if he didn’t.
“Do I need to worry about this?” Rocco probed.
“No.”
“Are you seeing someone?” mamma asked.
“No.”
“Is someone at the company courting you?”
“Courting, Dad?” I laughed. “No!”
“Either way, I’m putting someone on your security.”
“No need.”
“If you’re not seeing anyone, and no one at VCG is courting you, then I have to worry about a perverted stalker, Antonella. I will not allow you and my grandson to run any risk…”
I exhaled, defeated, irritated.
“It’s Thor.” Papà hardened at the mention of the name. “He sends me the flowers.”
Silence carved itself between us, and before I was overcome by the discomfort of the situation, I looked down, smiling, and watched my baby make small, unintelligible sounds.
“You never told us what happened,” mamma reminded me.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“I thought the lies between us were over.”
“I already told you Thor and I had problems, Mom,” I snapped.
“Want to share?” Rocco wanted to know.
I looked at him. He was still studying me in that silent way that made me uneasy in my own skin. But this time, he wouldn’t get anything out of me.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Do I need to call our lawyers?”
“And why would she do that, darling?” Mamma’s face lit up for me, her voice emotional.
“He wants to reconcile, love. No man sends flowers the way he does unless there’s love involved.
And if what your aunts told me is true, there is quite a lot of love between you two, besides this beautiful little boy of grandma’s. ”
“Is there any chance of you getting back together?”
My expression turned to stone.
“We are not getting back together.” I regretted the harshness in my voice the moment I heard myself. They looked at me suspiciously. “I just don’t want him near me.”
“You know that is impossible, don’t you, carina?” papà observed.
“If he did something serious to you…”
“Heithor didn’t do anything to me, Mom.”
“You can tell me anything, love, anything at all,” she insisted.
I gave her a sincere smile, trying to dispel her doubt. “I know, Mom. I really do. But there is nothing I want to share.”
Papà just sat there, legs crossed, his astute gaze on me. He was like a sly, patient wolf, circling me from every side.
“In that case, I must admit I was worried about his absence, and now, I feel more relieved,” mamma said. “A father should be present in his child’s life. It’s good that Heithor has appeared. Lucca needs a male figure in his life.”
“You talk as if Lucca only has contact with women.”
“Your father, your grandfather, and your uncles don’t count, love.”
“Of course they count,” I contradicted, a little heated.
She gave me a look that made me feel like a child.
“It’s not the same thing, Antonella. You know that.”
I wanted to fight over that, and maybe realizing it, she added:
“A mother’s care and education are very different from a grandmother’s and aunts’, just as a father’s are different from uncles’ and grandfathers’. Lucca has a father, and it is good that he have his contribution in raising and caring for my grandson.”