“I want Nino to come stay with me for the weekend,” she says.
My jaw sets as I shake my head. “That’s not on the table for this weekend.”
Or ever, I still have to tell her. At least until Nino comes around to her, if he ever comes around, that is. It’s an issue that still needs to be addressed. Right now doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to do it, but there’s never going to be a time when she handles this news well.
“And why not?” she challenges. “You’ll be at the gala. You won’t even be here. I can take him Saturday and spend the day with him, and on Sunday, we will go see Enzo together.”
“He won’t be able to visit with Enzo this weekend either.” I click through the series of footage from the week, deleting the unnecessary.
“What do you mean he won’t be visiting Enzo?” Gwen’s voice rises. “Does Enzo know that?”
“Not yet, no.” I accidentally delete a subfolder in my haste, becoming irritated by this conversation.
“Enzo will not be happy about this,” Gwen says. “Are you trying to keep him from us?”
“That is not my intention,” I answer dryly, minimizing my folder to open the trash. I’m scrolling through it when I notice there are still folders in there from when the cameras were reset. The footage I thought was deleted. I move them back to the desktop, curious to see what I may have missed.
“It’s because of that fucking nanny, isn’t it? I know it is. She’s getting in your head. Poisoning you against us. Can’t you see—”
“Enough,” I clip out. “I’m done having this argument with you. This has nothing to do with Natalia. It’s Nino who doesn’t want to see you.”
Immediately, I regret the delivery of my message when her face falls in disbelief, but it had to be done. I clear my throat and try for a measured voice, though I can already see Gwen is starting to become hysterical.
“What I meant was Nino prefers it if you visit him here. He feels most comfortable at home.”
“Because of her.” She stabs a finger at the ceiling to indicate Natalia. “It’s because she’s fucking poisoning him against me!”
“This has nothing to do with her.” I release a ragged breath as my blood pressure rises. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you.”
“It does!” she screeches. “You are too blind. Led by your goddamned dick. A weak man just like your father—”
Heat flushes my skin as I rise abruptly, slicing my hand through the air as I gesture to the door.
“Get. Out!” I roar.
Her eyes widen at the vitriol I can no longer contain. It only gets worse the longer she stands there, staring at me innocently as if she doesn’t know what she just said to provoke me.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out!” I repeat. “Get out of my house, or so help me, God, I will have Manuel drag you out on your ass.”
“Alessio.” Her lip trembles. “Please. I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t mean it.”
“But you did, Gwen. You always fucking mean what you say.” I slam the computer shut and stalk around the desk. “I’m not your goddamned punching bag. I have always treated you with respect, but what you just said to me is unforgivable. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to speak to you. I need you to go home and leave me the fuck alone until I decide otherwise. Is that clear enough for you?”
Tears stream down her face, but my sympathy has run dry. I leave her there to pick up the broken pieces by herself this time.
Her words play on repeat in my head as I punish myself in the gym to the point of exhaustion. I brutalize my body until my muscles give out, and I collapse onto the floor, head between my knees as I try to hold back the urge to retch.
I’m not like my fucking father, and I never will be. That’s the mantra I’ve lived by. Over and over, I have tried to convince myself of that. But the truth is, I don’t know. I have lived with this uncertainty inside of me. This pervasive fear that I will be weak like him. It’s why I have avoided relationships. I decided long ago I would never marry. I would never have a family. The undiluted anguish and betrayal on my mother’s face before she died was enough to cure me of those notions forever. If that was what a marriage became, I didn’t want to be part of it. I wanted to believe I was better for those choices. I would never hurt anyone the way he had, and yet I am.
Every time I’m too weak to resist Natalia, I can see the hurt on her face when I leave. She wants more from me. She probably wants things I’ll never be able to give her. She deserves someone who can, but I’m too selfish to let her have that either. I’d kill him. I’d fucking murder anyone who thought they could take her from me, but, inevitably, I know it can’t last. She won’t remain in this purgatory I’ve trapped her in. She will decide I’m not worth the pain, and she will leave, sentencing me to a life of emptiness. It’s the only thing that was meant to be mine.