This version of her is a stark contrast to the woman who had the guts to coerce Tristano.
“I didn’t want the danger from my past to find me, and you by association,” she says.
Octavia doesn’t quite look convinced, if her pursed lips are anything to go by. “Everything you tried to prevent has happened regardless and our only chance at saving El Jefe just walked out the door. I don’t care what you have to say to get Silvestri to help us, but you better fucking do it.”
Aida’s gaze zips to her daughter and narrows to little more than slits. “Don’t forget who you’re speaking to.” Her voice has all the heat of a fire and an edge to it that warns of potential danger. “I may have made a good many mistakes in my life, but I’ll be damned before I let you talk to me like that.” She gets to her feet and meets Octavia’s gaze head-on. “I will tell Tristano the truth and nothing else, and if he decides to help then that’s his choice.”
“Then El Jefe’s death will be your fault,” Octavia hisses.
She storms from the church, leaving a punctuated silence in her wake.
Aida exhales and drops her head, squeezing her eyes shut as if in pain. “At least he didn’t try to kill me,” she whispers in Spanish.
“Fret not.” The priest takes Aida’s hand in his. “Trust that God has brought you all together for such a time as this.”
To almost kill each other?I cross myself one more time for good measure.
Father Diego rises and offers Aida his hand. “Come along. You haven’t eaten today and dinner is being served already.” He assists Tristano’s mother to her feet and then glances in my direction. “You two are welcome to join us,” he says in English, “and so is Señor Silvestri when he returns.”
I look up at Beni, waiting for him to answer.
He brings his gaze to mine and then shrugs. “You hungry?”
I scrunch my face a little, indicating that I could eat, but I’m not exactly starving.
“Might as well get you something then,” he says.
We exit the pew and follow behind Father Diego and Aida. I watch her, still marveling that she’s alive and Tristano hasn’t seen her in such a long time. His thoughts must be a mixture of agony, confusion, and so much more. Once again the urge to go to his side and make sure he’s alright—all things considered—rises within me and I have to suppress it.
“Do you think they’ll have wine?” Beni asks me.
I shrug with my mouth tilted on one side. The idea has merit and I wouldn’t mind something to take the edge off my frazzled state.
He blows out a quick breath. “I'm just saying, communion involves wine and I’d like some. And by ‘some’ I mean an entire bottle. Or three.”
You and me both.
Tristano
Seeing my mother after all these years is hard to process, despite knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt it’s her. I’ve never forgotten her voice and the way she spoke my name when I was a child, nor have I lost the memory of her face and how she gazed down at me with such adoration.
NowItower over her in height and authority. How things have changed…
But no matter how angry I am—and I’m pretty fucking pissed—she’s still my mother.
A sharp pain slices through my chest as I replay our conversation over in my mind. Did she expect a different outcome other than me wanting to strangle her for being a coward and leaving her family to die? I don’t think so, or Father Diego wouldn’t have questioned me beforehand and gauged my responses.
Would I be just as upset right now if she were dead? What if I found this entire trip to be nothing other than a manipulation tactic from someone who’d learned of her past? It’s hard to say since that isn’t reality.
The truth is my mother moved on and started over, replacing her old family with a new one.
Octavia’s reaction to the news wasn’t rehearsed or I might’ve lost my mind. She didn’t experience the level of betrayal I did, but she was certainly gutted by my mother’s confession.
Ourmother’s confession.
I halt my pacing now that the initial burst of energy has subsided and lean against the jeep I arrived in earlier. The same vehicle I finger fucked Violetta in, as well as kissed her more than any other woman in my life prior to her.
And all without a single twinge of regret.
