Chapter 2
FOUR DAYS AFTER ARRIVING IN MILAN
“So this is my grandson?”
I shifted my gaze from Lucca in my lap to the terrace entrance.
Mamma stood there, all elegance and refinement, high heels, her long dark hair falling thick around her shoulders. Sunglasses hid her eyes from me.
Deep emotion snaked through my chest, tightening, and coiled in my throat.
“Hi, Mom,” I murmured in a thin voice.
Selena smiled with restraint and moved gracefully.
“Hello, love.”
I accepted her kiss, then forced a half smile onto my lips.
“Give me my grandson,” she said, taking him and sitting in the other chair.
She held Lucca upright the way he liked, and had her sunglasses snatched off, but she didn’t seem to mind.
Selena smiled widely, her eyes shining with emotion.
“Hello, Lucca. I’m Selena, your grandma.
How beautiful you are, my love! And big!
And look at all this hair! You are a very loved baby, did you know that?
Grandma was dying to meet you, little boy. ”
“He just nursed and needs to burp.”
“That’s why he has that sweet little milk breath,” she cooed foolishly, patting his little back with a skill that made me envy her.
I handed her the burp cloth, then rescued her sunglasses from the floor.
“He’s beautiful, love. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
I relaxed against the sofa, watching her maneuver my boy.
It was still very early. The sun was rising pleasantly in the cloudless sky.
The terrace was my favorite part of Gio’s penthouse. There was a beautiful garden with all kinds of flowers and flowering vines that climbed upward and mingled with the dry branches, creating a sparse ceiling. I spent part of my mornings there with Lucca.
My boy burped loudly, and we both laughed.
“Lucca… Why did you choose that name?”
“It’s a beautiful name.”
“Yes, it is. Thank you.”
I shook my head, the knot too tight to let me speak.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine, Mom.”
Her reproving gaze ran over me, but she made no comment.
I knew what she saw. I didn’t look well.
I was too thin, my bones pushing against my skin, pale, still full of dark circles from sleepless nights.
I couldn’t hide the sadness in my eyes even when I smiled.
I had this urge to cry almost all the time, but I held myself back out of fear that if I started, I would never stop, so I didn’t cry.
Maybe this was how it felt when your heart was broken and your soul was curled up in a corner.
Eternal mourning. Sometimes I had the impression my sadness was me, and I made it so big I got lost in my own labyrinth and breathing became very difficult.
Everything hurt.
Everything ached.
Everything was exhausting.
I still hadn’t slept through an entire night.
Most nights I spent looking at Lucca, feeling the warmth of his little body, taking as much of his scent into my lungs as I could, the delicate softness of his skin, making sure he was okay and breathing, afraid to blink and have him disappear or something happen to him.
I wasn’t used to caring for him, to having him this way.
Lucca was getting to know me, and I was getting to know him.
I was doing my best to make up for lost time.
Pietra informed me that, at last, Thor had his truth. She didn’t give me details, and I didn’t ask for them. That didn’t calm me, though. Fear still had its claws buried deep in me. I only needed to look at my son for as long as I possibly could.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”
“I’m sorry. It was a last-minute decision.”
“And why was that?”
I looked away, suddenly too discouraged to speak.
“You could have called me,” she pointed out, not hiding the accusatory tone. “I thought we had already gotten past the stage where you don’t tell me important things.”
“We did.” But it was a lie.
“Yes?”
“Mom…”
“Why did you go to your aunt instead of me? Why did you come here, Antonella?”
“I didn’t want to get in the way.”
Selena shifted Lucca in her lap, leaned toward me, and took my hand. Looking at her face and seeing all that affection, tenderness, and devoted love made me feel bad.
“Ella, you don’t get in the way, sweetheart. Never. You should have called me. You should have gone home. I know your aunt has a nice place here, but your place is at home. It always has been. Your father and I are your family. Your biggest fans. We will always be ready to help you.”
“You were on your honeymoon, mamma,” I dodged.
She looked at me as if I had slapped her.
“You think I wouldn’t have left everything for you? It offends me, Antonella, that you think a trip is more important than my own daughter.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I know you would have come without hesitation. I just didn’t want to get in the way… I’m fine, Mom. Everything is fine now.”
“Is repeating that to yourself working?”
I sucked in a sharp breath and shook my head slightly.
“Look, I really am sorry… It was sudden. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“Fine. Then let’s go.”
I studied her standing figure, holding Lucca, who was oblivious to the tension in our conversation. Selena stared back at me with an expression determined to get what she wanted.
“What?”
“I’m taking you home.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Mom, please don’t do this,” I begged, not wanting an argument.
“Do you really believe your father hates you?”
I didn’t bother answering and turned my attention to folding and unfolding the burp cloth I kept in my lap. Mamma sat down again.
“I know he was very hard on you and crossed some lines. I myself was very angry with you,” she said in a low, peaceful tone.
“Parents make mistakes too, Ella. Many times, we make mistakes while trying to do the right thing. What Rocco did was not pretty at all… He is still your father. I am still your mother. And I know he loves you as much as I love you. And sometimes, that’s why we make such big mistakes, why it bothers us so much when something unplanned happens.
The fear of losing, of you losing yourself, makes us harder than we truly wish to be.
It’s very difficult to let children go, Ella.
Can you imagine being away from this child?
I had to let you go, and that was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in life, if not the hardest. No matter how much we say we raise children for the world, no matter how much we know they need to take their steps alone, in practice, we will always want our children under our wings, protected from the world. ”
“You’re the one here, Mom.”
“Your father needs time.”
“So do I. If staying here is going to cause friction between you and Gio, I’ll go somewhere else. Just don’t ask me to go with you, because I won’t.”
Selena didn’t fight, though she wanted to, and she did little to hide her unhappiness with my decision. But then, I had my own unhappiness to deal with.
I didn’t want to say out loud that I wouldn’t feel welcome.
She knew, however.
I was just sick of useless arguments, empty lies, everything.
Gio joined us not long after, with a bunch of designer bags.
Purchases for Lucca and for me. Her excitement drew smiles from me that didn’t reach my eyes.
In a crooked, illogical way, her kindness hurt me, humiliated me, and comforted me all at once.
Maybe that was what happened when you’d been damaged for so long. Good gestures wounded.
Mamma had lunch with us and spent a good part of the afternoon spoiling her grandson. And before she left, she took a picture with him, then departed with the promise to return.
***
TWO DAYS LATER…
I was getting desperate as I rocked Lucca from side to side. It didn’t matter what I did, he kept crying until his face turned red.
I simply didn’t know what to do!
Gio was at the store, the housekeeper had gone to the market. No one to rescue me. I was alone, going mad and on the verge of taking him to the hospital when my mother appeared.
“What happened, Ella?”
“I don’t know, Mom. Lucca started crying and won’t stop. I don’t know what I did wrong,” I snapped in panic. “Maybe I did something…”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, love.”
I wasn’t sure of that.
Mamma left her purse on the dresser and came to my side.
“Give him to me.”
I handed Lucca to her, his crying getting louder.
“I think we should take him to the hospital, Mom,” I said, my voice cracking as I tried to grab his things to put in the bag.
Selena held my arm. “Calm down or you’ll make him even more agitated.”
I slowed down, then sucked in a deep breath.
“Sorry… He’s clean, his diaper is dry.”
“Hungry?”
“He nursed a little while ago.”
“Colic?”
Lucca cried harder, squeezing my heart.
“I don’t know,” I confessed softly.
Mamma moved him, resting him belly-down along her bent arm, and began rubbing his little back. As she did that, she looked at me questioningly.
“Don’t you recognize his cries?”
I scratched my forehead, my gaze dropping, embarrassed.
“I… I’m still not good at that.”
“That’s okay.”
“Can we just take him to the hospital? Something must be wrong.”
“Babies cry, don’t they, my handsome boy?” She pinned me down. “It’s normal. You should be used to it by now. He’s still tiny, and his only way of communicating is this, screaming.”
I clenched my fists, swallowing the knot in my throat. Lucca didn’t stop crying. He sounded very irritated, but somehow he seemed better with mamma than with me.
“Wash your face, comb your hair, and go make some chamomile tea.”
I didn’t argue. I was a thread away from breaking, and I didn’t want to do that in front of her.