Chapter 21
A heartbeat passes—two—before I press the button and hold the screen against my ear.
And wait.
“What the fuck is the meaning of this?” Alan hisses, sounding incredibly far away. A lifetime away.
“I take it you got my fax?” Turning on the flippant attitude he expects, I can’t let him know there’s weakness here. I can’t give him anything he might try to exploit. Better he believes in my failure and ineptitude, than tender-heartedness… sentimentality.
“Matt, don’t play with me.” It’s little more than a growl and I understand for the first time how he could be intimidating. When you’re not looking at his ridiculous face, the flint in his voice is clear.
“I thought that you’d be happy.”
He scoffs, “And I thought you might actually have it in you.”
His words don’t hurt because I did . I had it in me to do the right thing, something beyond his scope of understanding. All I can do is deflect and hope it was enough. Abundantia is out of his grasp, even though I’m about to lose everything to him and the company, at least he can’t take this.
“Well, seems we’re both wrong. So, cut to the fucking chase already.” Tell me my punishment and let me drown in it.
“Come back. The anniversary of your father’s death is tomorrow. You have to come here, now.”
To formally relinquish my claim.
“That’s not going to work for me.” I can’t leave until the harvest, until I’ve seen this through and helped them as much as I can.
“I don’t give a shit what does and doesn’t work for you. You haul your ass back here, now.”
“What does it matter, Alan? I’m losing everything anyway, what’s a few more days? I told you I intended to stay until I’ve helped with the harvest and I plan to.”
There’s a loaded pause. I may have made a mistake somehow in saying that.
“You care enough to help but not enough to claim it?” The suspicion there confirms my fuck up and I swallow to keep the tremor from my voice as I respond.
“Farming’s not for me. I’m not cut out for a life of physical labor. But there’s going to be a massive party and I’ve been so busy trying to adhere to my father’s expectations I haven’t had any time to play.”
Don’t let him know. Don’t let him realize . Andrea has the new contract but I don’t know how long it takes legal stuff to settle. If there’s even a chance Alan will want to use this to screw me over even more, I don’t want to risk it. Better he not know how important it is to me so he can’t use it against me later and hurt them in the process.
“I tried to be a good guy but you and I both know that’s not who I am. So, I intend to actually enjoy some of Italy before I come back to nothing. Surely, you can grant me some clemency to do that. I get pretty cranky when I haven’t gotten laid.”
I can hear Alan trying to slow his breath. He’s always hated how little respect I show him and it gets under his skin for some reason.
“You’re a piece of shit, Matt. We’ll be glad to be rid of you.”
“Yeah, like you were glad to be rid of my father. I heard you at the funeral, Alan. I heard you tell my mother you’d make sure she didn’t see another cent of his money. You said the best thing my father had ever done was trust you to take care of his affairs so his bitch of an ex wouldn’t have any power.”
It’s my breath I hear now, angry and rapid, and filled with a darkness—an oil slick that’s finally been let to settle on the surface.
“You really think I'm so stupid to think this doesn't all work out so well for you? I also heard you later, with one of the board members. Bragging about how you’d both become some of the richest men in New York and all it took was for my sad sack of a father to keel over. Good riddance to the fucker that had just set you all up for life. I heard it all.”
I don’t know what I expect—don’t know if my words have done a damn thing but I’m glad they’re out there and freed from my memory.
“Now I get to be rid of you as well. You drag your ass here or I’ll come get you myself. There are papers to sign. You made this choice, now I need your name on that dotted line saying you understand exactly what you’ve done.”
He doesn’t even try to deny it. Doesn’t show a shred of remorse. No wonder my dad died—surrounded by such corrosive people, sinking to their level. He was culpable as well, but it cost him his life.
Part of me wishes I’d met the terms of my father’s will so I can make sure Alan burns, even if it means taking him down with me.
She’s worth it.
And the flames that licked inside me, fueled by my rage, cool.
“No need, spare yourself the trip. I’m not changing my mind and I’ll be there soon. You’re getting what you want, no point in tantrums. Let me have my last hurrah and then all of it is yours.”
I wait, wanting nothing more than to press my thumb to that red button and say to hell with him. But I need to know Giuliana is safe— Abundantia is safe.
“Fine. After the harvest then.”
He doesn’t wait for a response, wanting the last word. Alan hangs up before I can take a breath. It’s a reminder that he holds the power now. I’m on borrowed time and playing a game I’m wholly unprepared for just for the sake of selfishness. It’s partly the promise I made—the volunteer bargain that wasn’t even my own. Mostly it’s because I don’t want to go yet and leave them behind—leave her behind.
The harvest will come in a couple of days. Everything is done. The players are in motion. All I can do now is hold on to this thread of happiness for as long as possible.
My fists ache where they’ve been bundled throughout that conversation. My phone is surprisingly intact despite my death grip on it. Rage that had been banked flares back to life and I need to do something other than lie here and dwell.
Bare feet padding across the floor to the kitchen, the cool stone is a familiar friend by now. I tug the fridge open. Jars and condiments clink in the door with the motion, waking one of the kittens curled up in a little bed by the back door. It stretches and a tiny pink tongue peeks out with its giant yawn. The kitten makes its way over to me and I give it a little scratch behind the ear before returning to the task at hand.
The cool light from inside the fridge wraps me in its luminosity and I stare at the contents like some miracle is going to expose itself to me. Opting for a carton of juice that’s close to finished, I don’t even bother with a glass, tipping the lip to my mouth and drinking deep.
“You showed it to her.”
Isabella’s voice scares the shit out of me and I choke on the final swig. The liquid lodges in my throat as I sputter through my shock and the kitten skitters back to its bed.
“She wants to make this place her own, to make it a success. I wanted to help, even if it is only in this small way,” I say once I’ve regained the use of my vocal cords, the hacking cough still straining my throat.
“What you’ve done is no small thing. If she knew…”
“But she won’t. Because you’re not going to tell her. And I’m not going to tell her.” Selfish ‘til the end and not wanting to taint our time together with the black smudge of my betrayal.
“And you’re leaving.” A statement, not a question. As usual she’s far too shrewd for my good. “When?”
“After the harvest. I promised to help and I’ll keep that promise. The man in charge of the business expects me back to sign the paperwork. He wanted me there tomorrow on the anniversary but—”I shrug, gesturing at the space around us and all that awaits.
“The anniversary?” Isabella asks and for the first time since his death it actually feels real to say it. He’s gone. For real.
“My father’s death. I had one year to prove myself.”
She sighs, and I wish I could do the same. If I could just suck in enough air and release all my feelings out along with the exhale my life would be so much simpler.
“I’m sorry, Matteo. I know it doesn’t change anything with the man in charge but you did prove yourself. To me and Giuliana, and every person that relies on Abundantia to live and thrive. You made a difference here.”
All I can do is nod, emotion choking any words from escaping.
“Will you say goodbye before you go?”Isabella asks.
I can’t help but wonder if she means to Giuliana or to her. To her and Chiara and all the people here who have wormed their way into my chest, diving into the decay.
“I—” don’t know if I can promise that but I can’t finish the sentence.
“Get some sleep, we have a long week ahead of us.” Dismissing me without another word, Isabella turns away and back down the corridor.
Harvest is coming and the air is heavy with ripe fruit and my regret.