“And where do you fall into this?” my father asks, oozing comforting tones and fatherly affection. “How do you do this without breaking your heart, Bambina?”
“I get my piece of true love, and you get your ultimate revenge. We’re both happy in the long run.” I make the mistake of looking down and away from my father’s gaze. The thought of losing my opportunity to have the greatest chance to love Zane does render me breathless, and my chest radiates with pain, but I cannot withhold how I really feel. As my father takes my hand, I look away. “As much as this will kill me, I have to remain a part of the family.”
At that comment, my father’s eyes seem to become shot with pain and sorrow. “Amelia, I know I have been callous, but whatever happens with Zane, you will always be my daughter. That is a fact I cannot fight. The thought of disowning you or abandoning you in any way is one that I cannot comprehend. I speak in the heat of the moment, and I know I am a cold-hearted bastard, but unlike your brothers, my threats are futile toward you.”
“They didn’t feel it,” I comment miserably, remembering the night he tried to traffic me. “You can’t blame me for sitting here feeling a little doubtful of your words, Papà. I want to so believe that you dote upon me and love me, but all I seem to do is let you down. I knew I would the moment you mentioned Zane’s name, but I am trying everything to make sure I get this right.”
“I offered you a chance to get out of this,” he counters, thinking it’ll make a difference.
“I didn’t take it so I can prove to you I am as strong as you want us to be,” I confess dryly, looking him straight in the eyes.
“I will see you as strong no matter what.” He tries to rectify the mess he has made by mounting doubts upon me, but it’s not working very well. “Whatever, Amelia, you are a strong soul,” my father announces proudly, and I wonder if he knows the true me. “You are courageous and fight when most grown men cower. You take a stand, and you don’t let anyone take that from you. Not even I can do so. Whatever I have said or how I have made you feel, none of it is true when you’re still here, fighting with a strong will. You are a strong Abbiati-Romano soul. One that your family should be proud of.”
He calls me a strong soul. One who fights, whose will continues regardless of what life throws at me. But right now, he doesn’t know that I've reached my point of surrender. Right now, I want to cave and be weak and tell everyone they are wrong about me. Right now, I want to just lie down on the earthy ground and allow the world to keep spinning without my participation. Because let's face it - it will. For once, I want to be nonexistent.
Today, I want the world to fall away and when I reach that final step into total absolution, I only want for Zane to prove his words right and reach in and save me at that last possible second. I want his existence to resonate harsher, embed itself so deeply in me that I no longer can breathe without him. I want to remember being consumed by him. I want that revival, and I will see I have it. I want a savior who makes me wake up, see sense, and laugh at my own ridiCoglioneusness. I want him to teach me what I was doing wrong and what I was doing right. I want him to set me onto the right path. I don't want to be my own hero anymore.
I don’t want to be a strong soul. I want to rip away my mask and be the me left underneath. I want to be the Amelia Abbiati that Enzo and Bruno see. The girl with all different angles to her like Zane loves. I crave being the real me.
“You do understand that, right?” My father’s voice penetrates my thoughtful trance so deeply I feel my thoughts explode into millions of tiny stars that float away from around me. “Regardless, you are still one of the strongest in this family.”
“I don’t feel it sometimes,” I feebly admit, and for once, I don’t loathe myself for admitting my weaknesses to a man I vowed never to.
“Hey.” My father’s voice immediately softens, and I feel his arm come around my back. “I can only apologize for how my actions affect you. I don’t think sometimes, and for that, I am so sorry, Bambina.”
“I know.” I accept his apology, reminding myself not to take it to heart. I don’t want to be hurt when he goes against it.
He kisses my temple and lingers beside me in the calm around us. When he decides he’s had enough, he stands beside me. He puts his hand out and gives me the fatherly smile that always weakens me.