I try to move farther away, but a wall has unexpectedly appeared at my back, holding me steadily by the shoulders. Then his lips touch the shell of my ear, and he mutters, “Breathe. Just breathe, baby.”
Then Signor Falco is there, right in front of me, his face stern. “Now, listen to me, young lady. I have always thought of you as a kind, even-tempered girl who has had to put up with far too much in her young life. I do not think poorly of you, not now, not ever. My daughter has had a lot to say about you in this past week, defending you to no end, and after listening to my Manda, I have to tell you, Alejandra, it makes me feel stupid to have not seen it before.” His expression turns desolate. “I know.” He says this in a way that makes my body tremble.
My mouth is suddenly parched, and I lick my dry lips nervously. “Wh-what do you know?”
“All of it.” The father of my best friend, my doctor, my biggest supporter—Dr. Manda Rossi—straightens, his face severe but his tone soft. “Manda told me everything.” He pauses a moment before he repeats with meaning, “Everything.”
We hold each other’s eyes for a long while before I feel Julius squeeze my shoulders in silent support. “This reunion is just dandy, but I need to know how you two know each other.”
I swallow hard and attempt to speak. “Manda…” But my jaw is slack, and my mouth just won’t cooperate.
Signor Falco turns his eyes up to Julius and explains on my behalf, “My daughter, Manda, is a close friend of Alejandra’s. She’s also her doctor.”
Julius sounds staggered. “You have children. Other children.”
“Yes,” Signor Falco returns in a solemn hush. “I also have a son, Giuseppe. We call him Zep. Believe it or not, he and Antonio were born only days apart.”
What does that mean, other children? Who is Antonio?
I find my voice, but it’s weak. “Antonio?”
Signor Falco smiles down at me, taking my hand and leading me to the dining table. “Once, a very long time ago, I was in love with two very different women from two very different ends of the scale.” He holds a chair out for me, and I sit. He does not go on until he finds his own seat. “One of those women, I was engaged to marry. Her name was Angela Rossi.” He inclines his head to me. “Zep and Manda’s mother. She came from a good family, an Italian family who knew the life. She was beautiful, but her eyes…” He waves a hand over his eyes. “They were bitter. Bitter and sad. Most of the time we were together, she spent telling me how much she despised me, and I felt I would never win her affections.” He sighs long and low. “The other woman was Lucia DeMartino, a no-nonsense waitress at a casino I would frequent with my boys. She was Italian too, but in the eyes of my father, she was nobody. She was a serial flirt and was so fun to be around that she made me forget about all my responsibilities. She made me crave a normal life. Every moment I spent with her was filled with laughter and passion, and we loved each other very much.”
Signor Falco seems lost in his own head, when he admits, “It was difficult to love a woman who didn’t return the affection. Angela was stubborn. I could see she was beginning to feel something for me, but she never let herself admit it. So whenever Angela rejected me, I would go find my Lucia. And there she would be, in her small apartment with no furniture, with only a small double bed dressed with sterile white sheets. And she welcomed me, no matter the hour. She just wanted to be with me, even if it meant living a half life with the man she loved.”
He glances up at me, holding up two fingers. “Two ends of the spectrum. One woman giving her all. One not giving enough.” He shrugs. “I was young and stupid. My father knew about Lucia.” He snuffles a laugh. “Heck, everyone knew about Lucia, but I had my duty to fulfill. And so I married Angela. Lucia knew, but it didn’t matter to her. Only I mattered.”
I’m enthralled. “What happened next?”
The old man links his fingers, resting his hands on the table, looking down at them. “This life, our life, is not for everyone. The more time I spent with Lucia, the more she saw that disturbed her. She kept talking about the day we would run away and just be together, away from the guns and violence. She was naïve, and I let her be. It was kinder that way. Angela was built for this life. Lucia was not. Imagine my surprise when Angela announces that we were expecting our first child?” He chuckles. “I was overwhelmed. That feeling of exhilaration, of becoming a father, was something I hadn’t expected to feel. So I think long and hard about my life and decide to end things with Lucia, but when I get there, she’s crying happy tears.” He throws his arms out by his sides. “‘Hey, Tony, you’re going to be a daddy. Isn’t it grand?’”
My heart squeezes like a vise. “What did you do?”
With his mouth drawn in a grim line, he mutters, “I was kidding myself to ever believe I had a life with Lucia. I was with her until the birth of my firstborn son. We named him Antonio, and that meant something to me. He was my namesake, and that right should have gone to my wife, but Lucia… I loved her more than was wise. I spent four days with my baby boy, holding him, trying to memorize the feel of him in my arms. Then, Giuseppe was born, and his birth had done something to Angela. Every moment she watched me with our son, speaking to him, cradling him, she softened a little more toward me until her affections began to grow, and she asked me to forgive her, to be faithful to her.”
“You left Lucia? You left your son, just like that?” My heart breaks for the woman.
His eyes bright, he states, “She was my wife. It was my duty to be faithful to her. Besides, one of my sons was bound by my name. He would have to do his duty to our family. My other son was not honor bound. Without my name, he would live a normal life. Fall in love. Marry anyone he wanted.” Signor Falco’s eyes meet Julius’s over my shoulder. “How was I to know that Antonio was destined to follow in my footsteps regardless? I left to give him a better life. He was meant to have a good life. I wasn’t to know that my leaving would cause more damage than good. I think about him, every damned day. I’m glad he had you, Julius. Thank you for being his brother, for being there when I couldn’t be.”
A thick silence ensues, thick enough to carve with a knife. “Where is he?” I ask. “Where is Antonio?”
Signor Falco’s eyes glaze over in grief.
It’s Julius who answers, and he does this on a whisper.
“He died.”
“Things have changed,” is what Julius said. Those words were only spoken this afternoon, and for some reason, it feels like a lifetime ago. For so many things have happened in the meantime.
And after what happened this evening, I feel changed.
I am not frightened anymore.
I am calm, at ease. And I know something will eventually rock that calm and send me adrift, but before that happens, I plan to take the sails and charge out to sea.
Uncertainty hits me like a blow to the solar plexus. Looking at myself in the reflection of the mirror, I judge that reflection harshly, and before I can change my mind, I pull Ling’s robe over my near-naked body.
I tell myself I owe it to him. I owe him something. Anything. So I will venture into uncertainty with my arms stretched wide and my head held high.
My bare feet move silently along the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. My heart jolts as I come to stand a short distance, on the inside of the closed door. Closing my eyes, I breathe deep and soldier on.
Three more steps…
My legs begin to shake.
Two more steps…
A flush rises from my neck to heat my cheeks.
One more step…
My heart beats steady, hard and fast, like a drum.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I lift my hand and turn the knob. It opens soundles
sly, and as I gently push open the door, I’m greeted with a sight.
Julius sitting up in bed, his bare torso resting against the headboard, sheets pooled just under his waistline to reveal a small swatch of hair trailing from his taut belly down lower, lower to where I can’t see any more. His eyes on me, waiting expectantly.
“What are you doing, baby?”
Slipping inside the bedroom, I close the bathroom door behind me with a gentle click then stand back against the cool surface for fear of getting too close. My lips part, and I manage, “This is what you wanted, right?”
With a slight shrug, the silky robe slides off my shoulders and down my back, pooling at my feet, leaving me exposed.
Julius sits up off the headboard. “Ana.”
My nickname comes out unsure, strangled.
But this is what I came here for. This is what he asked for. And he deserves answers.
Stepping forward, out of the dark and into bright strips of moonlight illuminating through the open blinds. He moves to stand, but stills as he sees. I know the exact moment he does, because his eyes widen then shutter, and dipping his chin, he curses through a hiss.
I am mortified.
This is hauntingly embarrassing.
My temple throbs as my eyes begin to burn, but I push on. I point a shaking finger to the raised scar above my hipbone. “The time Dino caught me smiling at our waiter.”
Julius raises his head to look at me, but I don’t dare meet his eye. Instead, I train my gaze on his heaving chest.
My eyes closed tightly, and I point to the scar on my left breast. “The time I received flowers anonymously.” Breathing in, I add on a shaky exhale, “Turns out, they were from my sister.”
Turning, I lift the right side of my panties to reveal the scar on my ass. Lowering my head, I dip my chin and utter a hoarse, “One of the many times Dino had Gio raped me and I made the mistake of moaning.” The first tear falls when I mutter a hushed, “Dino thought it was out of pleasure.” More tears fall. I whisper a miserable, “I was being torn apart.”