We pull out into the traffic. “That was quick,” Antonio says as he drives.
“Yeah.” I stare sadly out the window, once again my mind wonders where my beloved Giuliano is now? My thoughts always come back to him.
I hope he’s ok.
Giuliano
I bang on the window as my mother lies dying. “Mom, I’m here. Hold on.”
Her head slumps as I begin to try to break down the door. “I’m here, Mom. Don’t go, wait for me.”
I watch on helplessly as her guards come running. “Angelina,” one cries. “Call an ambulance.”
I bang frantically on the door, I’ve never known a panic like this.
A scream wakes me and I sit up in a rush, I look around the dark silent room as my heart hammers hard in my chest. Who was screaming?
I was.
It was my screams that woke me.
Fuck.
I sit up and swing my legs out of the bed, I’m wet with perspiration, with my elbows resting on my knees I sit in the darkness. What the fuck is going on with me?
I’m losing it.
*
I feel Lorenzo walk into the office. “You’re quiet today,” he says as he puts his two hands on my shoulders from behind.
“That’s because he’s worn out,” Val teases. “Lucky prick.”
I exhale heavily. “Shut up.”
I’m not in the mood for this fucking shit today.
“Who is she?” Lorenzo smiles as he sits down at my desk.
“Nobody.” I sigh as I open my email folder.
“Bullshit,” Carlo snaps. “Tell me she tasted as good as she looked?”
I drag my hand through my hair. “Can you two just get out and let me do some work?”
Everyone saunters out of the office and I try to focus on my computer screen, but I can’t. My brain is fried and I feel so unstable that it’s ridiculous.
Nothing should affect me this badly.
Alex walks back into my office and puts his hands onto my shoulders from behind. “You, okay?” he asks.
“Uh-huh.” I keep staring at my screen.
“You’re worrying me.”
“I’m fine.” I dismiss him.
“It’s been six weeks since you saw her.”
“I said I’m fine,” I snap angrily. “Get the fuck out.”
“Take a week off, you’re burned out. You had one day off when your mother died. You need to cut yourself some slack, Giuliano. I know you forget this, but you’re only human. You’ve been through a lot this last few months.”
I get a lump in my throat as I stare at my computer. “Lombardi….”
“Fuck Lombardi, I’ll take care of Lombardi. So, he killed another three men, they weren’t ours. Who fucking cares?”
“He’s getting out of control.”
“Which is why I need you well and rested.” He slaps me on the back and then spins my chair toward him and leans his hands on the armrests as his eyes hold mine. “Go home to Lake Como, take the time you need. Come back when you’re feeling better, whenever that may be. I have it under control, Carlo and Val are here, we’re all on deck and prepared for anything.”
Forever the faithful friend.
I inhale deeply, a few days off does sound good.
“Okay,” I concede.
He reaches over me and switches my computer off. “Go now.” I stand and pack my laptop into my briefcase and head for the door, I turn back. “Thanks, hey.”
He gives me a sad smile. “Do whatever it takes to relax. We need you.”
“I will.”
I let out a deep exhale as I unlock the front door to my mother’s house, I’m met with the full force of an image of my parents. The life-size painting, the perfect family.
The man and his mistress.
I stare at his face, strong, handsome and wise…. Or, so I thought.
I never even knew him.
I walk up to the painting and run my finger over his face and I pull it away as if burned.
We stand face-to-face, the dead and the living.
The truth and the lie.
An overwhelming sadness falls over me and the painting blurs through tears.
“I hate you for a lot of reasons,” I whisper angrily. “But I will never ever fucking forgive you for taking her from me.”
Francesca
I sip my coffee as I stare at the plans, maybe I need to add an extra wall in there. That could then work as another foyer for the space, hmmm…. I really need extra space in this area.
There’s a buzz in the air, everyone is busy and happily talking.
I’m in my one happy place at the moment, my office.
I can’t be working from home at the moment, I’m already on the edge of sanity. I know how close the cliff is and I’m not walking near it. So, for the moment, the office it is. I don’t care about the interruptions, bring them on. Interruptions are better than crying alone on my couch.
Knock, knock, sounds at the door.
“Come in,” I call without looking up. The door opens and then closes behind it and when nobody says anything, I glance up to be shocked to silence.
Giuliano.
Emotion overwhelms me and without hesitation I stand.
His eyes search mine, “I just….” He shrugs as if lost for words.
We stare at each other and dear God, I miss him.
I open my mouth to speak and he holds his hand up, instantly silencing me.
“I just have to say something.” He inhales deeply as if steeling himself. “I know…that you’re back with Marso.”
“Marcel,” I correct him.
“Whatever the fuck his name is,” he snaps. “And I know you’re happy, and that’s great. I want you to be happy. You deserve the best.”
My eyes hold his.
“But I just wanted you to know something. And I don’t know why I feel like I need you to know this but I just know that I do.”
My brow furrows.
“I’m not going to marry, I’m not going to fall in love with someone. There is no family on my horizon,” he says softly.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want the second prize. I don’t want to pretend to love someone else. I don’t want to look back on my life and have lived my whole life as a lie like my father did.”
My eyes search his.
“I know you’re getting married and I’m happy for you, I really am.”
“Giuliano.”
He throws his hand up as if defeated, “What I’m trying to say, Chesk, is…I love you. I have loved you for every single day since I was nineteen years old. And I will love you until the day I die…which will hopefully be soon, because I don’t want to live a life without you in it.”
13
Francesca
My breath catches as I stare at him. He looks so lost and broken, his eyes are wild.
“I’m not marrying Marcel.”
He frowns.
I step toward him, crossing my moral compass line once more. “I don’t want the second prize either.”
We stare at each other, “But…you’re back with him.”
“No. I’m not.”
“Antonio told me.”
“He got it wrong,” I say, sterner, I take his two hands in mine. “Why did you come to France?”
“I had to see you.”
“To tell me that you loved me?”
His words are pretty and damn it I just want to jump into his arms, but does he know what weight they carry?
“Yes.”
“In a perfect world, Giuliano, where would your declaration of love lead us?”
His brow furrows as he contemplates his answer.