Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
L iam
I never thought I would know what it would be to love someone more than you love yourself, granted I love Harriet and Daisy more than life itself, but I never thought I could love someone else, a woman, in that way. Yet, as I wake up the next day, my heart is still broken. I understand the depth to which I love Elisabetta. I can still feel her body throbbing as she cried. She was devastated, hurt, and while I did not cause all of the pain, I definitely caused a certain amount, and I know I need to make up for that. I look at the time and it's 5:00. I leave the room and go down to the kitchen. As I expected, Maria is in there making breakfast.
"Good morning, Mr. Gallagher," she says, looking at me in surprise.
"I need to speak to Franco."
"He's still in his bed, sir. He?—"
"I need to speak to Franco now." I stare at her as she bristles and looks annoyed. "You've been with him a long time, haven't you?"
"Yes, sir." She nods.
"Long enough that you know the truth?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," she says, shaking her head and turning back to the porridge on the stove.
"You know that his wife, Elisabetta's mother, is still alive?"
She gasps and turns to me. “You know?” Her eyes widen. She’s white as she— "I know, and Elisabetta knows."
"Ah, she shouldn't know. She—" She shakes her head. "It's not right. She can't— Her mother wouldn't want that."
"Why?" I say. "Why would you keep this a secret from her? Why would he?"
"She was my best friend, you know?"
"Who?" I stare at her.
"Mrs. Franco, Elisabetta's mom, we were childhood best friends. We both saw him at the same time, you know? I liked him. She didn't. She didn't even want him. It was just a game to her to see if she could beat me, and then he saw her, and he didn't even notice me. I guess they got on, and you know how the story goes from there. They got married. She’s always had issues, but not as crazy as they became. I think her mother was undiagnosed with something, but she never tried to hurt anyone, not like—" She pauses. "It's not my place to say anything."
"I need to speak to Franco."
"But he's in bed, and he won’t like that she knows. He spent his entire life trying to?—"
"To what? You do understand that she's been heartbroken for a mother her entire life. You do understand that her mother could never be a real mother to her?"
She shakes her head. "She's got issues. Not every day. Some days you think she's normal, and those are the days when he’s happy. Those are the days he’ll come home humming and singing because she told him she loved him or they played a game of cards, and then there are the days she hates herself, and she hates him, and she thinks everyone's trying to kill her, and she grabs the knives." She stares at me with bleak eyes. "Mental health is something quite perplexing, you know?"
I nod not slowly. "I don't have firsthand experience with anyone with extreme mental health issues, but I do understand to a certain extent."
"You have to understand, Liam, that he didn't do this to hurt Elisabetta. He did this to protect her, to shield her. When she tried to stab Elisabetta as a baby, she had a moment of lucidity, and she begged him to take her away from her child because she didn't want to hurt her, and she didn't want her child to have any guilt. So she made him promise that he would never tell her that she was still alive. Sometimes I would say she had a right to know. She had a right to make that choice herself. But then I think sometimes you think you've lost something, but it's better if you’ve never had it at all." She stares at me. "You might not understand that now, but one day, you will."
"I need to speak to him."
"He's not a bad man, you know? He goes to see her every day, except when he goes to New York to be with Elisabetta. He was conflicted about that."
"Really? It seems like he barely spent much time with her, if he was really a caring and doting father."
"I'm not going to lie, I don't think he was a great father, but that's because he loves her so much, you know?"
"You mean his wife?"
"Yes." She gives me a sad smile. "And because I love him, I have remained dutiful and kept his secret. It's all a twisted affair, but you mustn't blame him. You have to understand. You see, she has to understand. He never wanted her to find out. He will be heartbroken, though not as heartbroken as she is."
"I need to speak to him now."
"Fine, come with me." She leaves the kitchen and escorts me down a corridor. We go up a flight of stairs and then two. We walk down another short corridor, and she knocks.
"Come in," I hear him say. She opens the door timidly and steps inside. I push past her. "We need to talk." He's lying in the bed, and he looks older than I remember. He looks me up and down, and I think he can tell by the expression on my face that all is not right.
"You love her," he says, sighing.
"How do you know?" I'm shocked at his comment.
"I could tell as soon as you arrived yesterday. My daughter was overacting about how shocked she was to see you, so I could tell there was actually something going on between you. The chemistry in the air, it was palpable," he says. "You did it, didn't you?"
I stare at him. "What?"
"You told her."
"How do you know?"
"Because you love her, and as a man in love myself, I know that a man in love will do anything for the woman he truly loves, so she knows." He coughs and sputters. "She hates me."
"I think she hates me more," I say. "But I wanted you to know that I'm not going to go through the engagement. She doesn't want it, and I think it's unfair of both of us to continue the charade. You can keep the money if?—"
"Of course, I will honor the deal."
"You don't have to," I say. "I broke it. I told her when I said I wouldn't. You can keep the money, and you don't have to sell me the hotels.”
“What am I going to do with the hotels? They're yours. I don't want her to think that?—"
"You don't want me to sell you the hotels, do you?" He looks thoughtful. "You don't want her to think that this has anything to do with business."
"It started out as business, but you're right, I couldn't care less about business now. All I care about is her happiness and her feelings." I pause as there's another knock on the door.
"Is that you, Maria?"
"No, it's me, dad. I—" Elisabetta walks in, her face tear-stained. She looks at me in shock. "What are you doing here? You came to tell him that I know?"
I stare at her silently. I know that she hates me, and I understand why.
"I told him not to tell you." Her father sits up and gets out of bed. "I told him that the deal would be over."
"And he cares more about the deal than me? Yay, me!"
"I know that you love him, darling." He touches the side of her face, "And he loves you dearly."
"What?" She blinks rapidly. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm not a fool, my love. I may be old, but I’m not an old fool. Have a seat,” he says sitting and patting the bed. “You, too. I think this is something you should both hear."
He stares at Elisabetta and then at me. "From the first time I met your mother, I loved her. I think it was like fate we were meant to be. Quite quickly, I realized that there was something just a little off about her at times. At first, I thought it was because she was fun-loving and maybe had too much to drink, but soon, she was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic and then further developments." He looks sad. "I thought that loving her and helping her and trying to get her on medication would be the best way to help her, but she didn't want to take the medication. She didn't think anything was wrong, and because I loved her, I enabled her. Then we had you, our beautiful darling girl." He grins. "You were the light of our lives."
Elisabetta doesn't say anything. "On the day you were born, I thought I couldn't have been any happier in that moment. But then things got scary for a bit, and your mother and I decided that it was best if she were not the primary caregiver of you. So, we concocted her death, and I remarried to make it seem more true and plausible. I thought your stepmother would be loving and caring to you?—"
“But unfortunately, she sucked," Elisabetta said. "But I guess I got Romeo out of the deal.”
"And he's been a good brother to you?"
"He has," she says. "But why couldn't you have told me when I was a teenager, at least given me the choice to meet her, to love her, to?—"
"Because sometimes there are burdens you don't want to put on your child. Mistakenly, I thought that maybe you were better off. I see now that I was wrong."
"It hurts, Dad, to know that Mom is alive and I've never met her. I want to meet her on one of her good days, please."
He nods. "I have to tell her, of course."
"You think she might not want to meet me?"
"She would love to meet you. You're her daughter," he says softly and strokes her hair. "I'm sorry that I haven't been around. I'm sorry for everything. I've been so focused on your mom that I let the business slip, and just everything has come crashing around me, and?—"
"It's okay, Dad." She touches him lightly on the shoulder. "I understand that you did it for love. It doesn't mean I'm not hurt and heartbroken, but I understand." She takes a deep breath. "I just feel like a piece of me has been missing all this time, and now I realize that it was hidden in plain sight all this time, and I just didn't know."
"I know." He nods. "And I'm sorry for that. Please forgive me, my darling."
"I forgive you. Dad," she says. “I forgive you.”
"And if you can forgive me, then what about—" He nods over to me.
Elisabetta's eyes flutter to me, and she looks at me, anger back on her face as she juts her chin out, stubborn as she is. "I can't forgive him. He never should have kept that from me."
"I'm sorry," I say. "Please."
"I don't care that you're sorry. You chose money and a business deal over me and my truth and my life, and?—"
"I'm sorry," I say. "I will say that I did eventually choose you and that's why I told you last night. I love you."
"You don't even know what love is," she says, shaking her head.
"Elisabetta," her father chides her, "if you love him like you say you do, listen to him. Have an open conversation with him. You'll let him explain."
"What is there to explain, Dad? You had your reasons based upon whatever you and Mom decided, but his loyalty should have been to me. Instead, he chose you and money over me, the woman he says he loves, and—" She gasps.
"It's okay," I say. "He knows."
"He knows?" She wrinkles her nose. "So, what, you are being honest about everything now?"
"I already knew." Her father chuckles. “Your acting is not that good, darling, much like your mother's opera singing."
"Dad," she says, shaking her head and giggling slightly. I let out a laugh, and she throws me a stare. "You are not allowed to laugh right now," she says.
"I'm sorry." I press my lips together.
She says, "I just need time to think and be alone, and I want to see Mom, Dad. I want to meet her. I want to get to know her, good days and bad. I'm an adult, okay? I can deal with it. I want to be there for her. I want her in my life."
"Okay, I'll go see her today, and I'll tell her, and we'll set something up."
"Okay," she says.
"I'm going to go back to bed because I'm exhausted."
"Can I speak to you?" I ask her softly. "Please?"
"About what? There's nothing left to say, Liam. It's over. I'm sure my dad will do the deal with you without you having to marry me, and frankly, I don't want to marry you. Actually, I never want to see you again in my life.”
“What if I can’t imagine my life continuing without you in it?” I clear my throat, and she just shakes her head wordlessly. I stand up and head out of the room.
"Thank you, Franco," I say. Elisabetta follows behind me. I stop and grab her hand and flinch as she pulls away. "I love you," I say softly, but she doesn't respond. Instead, one lone tear rolls out of her eye and down her cheek, and she walks away from me.