Chapter 4
ALMOST TWO WEEKS AFTER THE ESCAPE
Entering the living room, I came to an abrupt stop.
Tension exploded through my nerves, turning me to stone as the voices fell silent. I was definitely not ready for… this.
Rocco stood in his expensive suit, holding Lucca.
He lifted his gaze from my son to me, the enchanted smile I never thought I would see on his face again withering.
I pressed my lips together, refusing the agitation in my chest.
I didn’t pay attention to anyone else, focused on the crystal-blue eyes holding mine, but I could feel the women in the family looking back and forth between us, as if they were holding their breath waiting for something big to happen.
Blinking away my shock, I looked aside and moved on autopilot.
“It’s time for him to nurse.” I heard myself say it in a voice empty of emotion as I stretched out my arms, barely waiting for him to hand me Lucca.
With my boy in my arms, I tucked myself into the bedroom.
I nursed Lucca, then put him in the crib.
I thought about locking the door with the key, but concluded that was madness.
With no exhaustion to take a nap, I looked around.
I wasn’t going back to the living room. And with nothing to do—miracles happen when Lucca sleeps—I began organizing the nonexistent mess in his drawer, folding and unfolding his little clothes, avoiding giving way to my thoughts.
I organized the first drawer, then moved on to the second.
Lucca, unlike when we arrived with only the basics, now had enough clothes to spare, a handful of toys, and other basic gear a baby needed.
I also had my share of clothes, accessories, and everything else.
Gio and mamma had bought everything. I wanted to pay them back, but they refused to receive a single cent from me.
The money I’d brought with me was untouched…
A soft knock on the door tore me from my thoughts, and I froze down to the tips of my toes, my hands clutching the little gray-striped onesie.
… Soft, measured steps. Four. I counted. Then he stopped.
I could ignore him, couldn’t I?
Silence opened a gigantic hole between us, and from it rose a heavy, dark tension that hardened my spine even more. I breathed deeply, then continued my task more to have something to do than for any other reason.
“He is an incredible boy. Beautiful,” Rocco praised.
Having nothing to say, I didn’t answer.
“He has a lot of you.”
“Lucca looks more like Heithor.”
“Lucca… You gave him your brother’s name.”
There was something in his voice that made me stiffen further.
Silence.
More silence.
A ton of it drawing the anger inside me, coiling around my limbs, tightening… tightening… tightening… until it almost suffocated me…
“I don’t need your help.” The words just came out.
“Antonella…”
“No!” I said sharply, turning around to face him.
Rocco was a few feet from me, beside the crib, hands in his pockets, looking at me with an expression that seemed almost poignant.
I wanted to cry. My chin trembled, but I swallowed dry and my expression turned to stone.
“I don’t know what mamma told you, and it doesn’t matter.
I don’t need it. But more than that, I don’t want it. ”
“I deserve your contempt after our last meeting.”
I could barely believe it. If I hadn’t been looking at him, seeing his mouth move, I would have doubted my hearing. I took a step forward, hands in fists.
“What are you doing here, anyway? Is it because of Lucca?” And I added, “My son will be free to make his choices. No one will force him into anything.” My message was delivered, and I was certain he decoded it correctly.
“Parents make mistakes too, Ella. Now you have a son. Maybe it’s still early, but you’ll discover that being a mother doesn’t exempt you from making mistakes with your boy.
At certain times, you’ll think you’re completely right.
And at some point, you’ll make a mess of things, not because you wish him harm, quite the opposite.
You wish him so well that nothing and no one will seem good enough, not even yourself.
Nothing is enough. And while trying to do your best, you will make mistakes, carina.
” I faltered at the affectionate name he used to call me when I was little.
“Sometimes our arrogance as parents, thinking we own our children a little, makes us commit the biggest mistakes precisely when we’re trying to avoid them by doing what we believe is right.
But all of it, we do because we love too much. ”
“That’s your excuse after all these years?”
“There are no excuses for what I did to you. But denying the truth won’t make them a lie. There is still a long road to travel with Lucca.”
I gave him a fierce look, wishing I had the same coldness he’d had all those years. The most I managed was to look like a pathetic thing starved for attention.
“I will never do to my son what you did to me.”
“You can’t say that with certainty, Antonella.”
I cleared my throat, but the lump remained.
“Maybe not. But that doesn’t erase what you did to me.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he said sadly. “I wish it did, though.”
We stared at each other for a full minute.
The plea in his gaze, the apparent sadness and regret in his words full of paternal warmth, which I had wanted so much before, should have pleased me. It didn’t.
Rocco really did look sorry. His usual coldness wasn’t there. In its place was warmth, affection… love. I could almost see my father from before, the one who secretly ate the vegetables I didn’t like behind Mom’s back and had imaginary teas with me.
I was hurt and angry.
There were no filters anymore. No fear of wounding. Only a raw, resentful honesty sliding around me, and it wasn’t kind or sweet. It was rough, painful, and bitter. Real.
“There was a time not so long ago when, despite the way you treated me, despite all the resentment I felt, all the anger and pain your contempt caused me, I secretly longed for your recognition, a sliver of pride, even if part of me told me how idiotic I was for still wanting anything good from you… And that… that’s ridiculous, because you’re my father.
Technically, that bond obligates you to love me unconditionally, right?
Or that’s how it should be… But it seems something went very wrong with us…
You know… Day after day, even though I tried very hard to fool myself by saying I didn’t give a damn what you thought of me, whether you liked me or not…
whether you approved of me… I wanted, hidden even from myself, an affectionate look, like the ones you used to give me before mamma’s pregnancy.
A phone call just to know how I was, and you didn’t even have to say you loved me…
just ask if I was okay… just show that you cared a little…
Do you know what level we have to be at emotionally to be satisfied with crumbs? I know, Rocco… It’s pretty pathetic…”
The distance in my tone made me stop. It seemed there was a barrier between us even bigger than I had thought. That surprised me and cut deep.
“I am your father, Antonella. Nothing and no one will ever change that,” he said fiercely, then softened, “but before being your father, I am also a man.”
“Does that justify your actions?”
“It doesn’t justify them, at least not all of them, Antonella.”
“Nothing justifies them.”
“Everything I did, I did thinking of what I believed was right for you.”
“No, Rocco. You only thought of yourself. What you wanted. How you wanted it,” I said coldly, not even bothering to hide my disgust.
He stared at me in silence and gave a hard nod.
“True.”
His admission almost made me trip over myself. I stared, shocked, paralyzed, no words within reach, my heart leaping high.
“I am proud of what I did for the family business, of how I helped Vicenti Creativi Group grow and become what it is today. I have been an impeccable professional, but terrible in the role of father… It took some time I regret losing and fear I won’t be able to recover even the minimum of, but carina, no prestige, no recognition, no fortune matters more to me than you and your mother, our family…
You believe I don’t care, and I know I gave you enough reasons to think so.
What you don’t know, what I have kept to myself…
out of pure cowardice, and I have acted this way on more occasions than I can recall without shame covering me. ”
He paused, released a rough breath, then a silent laugh.
“For a long time, I have put my energy into work…” He paused again.
He looked truly ashamed, and I couldn’t remember Rocco Vicenti being ashamed of anything, except when mamma caught him being rude to me years ago.
That gave him all my attention. “I did it to secretly sustain my idea of myself as a father. Not wanting to see the damage I caused… I believe it felt safer that way. If I didn’t see the wreckage I caused, I wouldn’t torment myself…
It was easier to hide in my cowardice and find someone to blame for my mistakes than to look at the damage my actions caused the two people I love most in life.
“You see, I am a wolf at work, but I was an old fox with my own daughter. I caused you pain and hurt you. I placed the blame on you when, if there was someone to blame, it was me. I let the selfishness of my role as a man take over, and with it, I acted meanly… And yes, I am a selfish and proud man. It is something in me, something I have always worked on… I love you, Antonella. I loved you the moment I learned of your existence, and I will love you until my death. No matter how much I err with you, how much we hurt each other, I will still love you forever. I have been a coward for a long time, shielding myself in my role as a strong businessman, hiding behind a lie I told myself and confirmed day after day so I wouldn’t see how badly I had wronged you…
I made many mistakes with you, more than I would like to admit…
I was a fool, carina, and I am so sorry. ”
“When I think of us, do you know what comes to mind?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Sadness. Bad memories. I don’t think that’s something that should happen when a daughter thinks of her father.
There should be only love and longing… But all I can focus on is the loss, the pain, the bad things, because they are bigger than any other good memory we built.
” I let out a muffled laugh. “That’s bizarre, isn’t it?
Because, my God, they are bigger and more intense.
They managed to stain a good part of those good memories, and what was left, even that little, was affected, and I can’t remember it without feeling sad.
And look, I’m not even mentioning our last meeting…
And today, somehow… I couldn’t care less. ”
“I pray that is the anger speaking, and not my daughter… I was a bastard to you in our meeting in Malibu, and I am deeply ashamed of the foolish things I said. What I did was wrong, carina. I am tremendously sorry.”
I hated feeling this way, shaken, wanting to be comforted when I fell, because I was ready to collapse into myself. I wanted indifference, the resentment that kept me cold. I wanted to hate him. It hurt so much, and I didn’t even know why… Well, I did.
I didn’t hate Rocco. I wanted to.
Going against all logic, all pride, the truth was that I still wanted to be accepted by him. I hated it, but beneath the pain, I longed for his words to be real.
I rebelled.
Got angry.
Became sensitive.
Crying from exhaustion over our unhappy situation.
“Do you know when I was happy after what you did to me? When I was far away. That isn’t something that should happen.
Children should never be happier away from their parents…
I was… With all my mistakes, with all my shit, I was happier there than here…
I was happy like never before. I wasn’t trying to please anyone.
Only myself. Maybe in that I should thank you.
Selfishness has its good side, after all.
And you know what? I’m exhausted from chasing approval from people who don’t give a damn about me…
” My chin trembled. “I’m not here today because anyone approved of me. I’m here for myself.”
He gave a tense smile.
“Do you hate me, Antonella?”
“No,” I finally answered, “but I don’t like you anymore.”
I barely saw Rocco move, and the next thing I felt were his arms squeezing me. It was the first true hug he had given me in years.
Strong. Warm. Sheltering.
I stiffened, but didn’t pull away, then relaxed tiredly.
My eyes burned, tears slipping free.
“Do you think you can forgive me? That we can try again?”
“I’m sick of this kind of love that only hurts,” I cried, defenseless.
He drew back, his hands on my shoulders, eyes on me. “I know I won’t be winning the father of the year trophy for a long time, but Antonella, there were not only mistakes between us. There were good things too.”
“I don’t know if we can be what we were, Dad.”
“We can build something new and better, if you want,” he offered, hopeful. “If you’re willing to give your foolish father a chance… Please, Antonella.”
I shook my head, my throat too tight to say anything.