I opened the door and drifted inside, to find Gianni sitting at his desk, flipping through several pieces of paper. I closed the door behind me and smiled, even when he looked concentrated, he was gorgeous. The young boy who’d saved me had grown into a stunning, 23-year-old man. His black hair still had its unique half-curl quality that sent the tips of otherwise straight strands of hair curving in all directions, and he now wore a rugged looking, closely shaved goatee. His square jaw gave his face an imposing look, belied by the way his cheeks caved into dimples when he looked up and smiled at me.
“Good morning,” he greeted. His blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight coming in through the window and it made my heart skip a beat.
I nodded. “Good morning.”
He lifted an empty plate with a fork on it up off the desk and stood up to carry it over to me. He set it in the bucket and then took the bucket from me and set it down on the dresser near the door. “Come with me. I want to show you something.” He set a hand on my back and it burned where he touched. I took a deep breath to play it cool and relented as he pushed me towards the french doors that opened onto a balcony. We stepped out into the warmth of the morning and he pointed down at the sprawling garden filled with colorful flowers and trees. “What do you think?”
“Um,” I started with uncertainty. I rarely worked in the garden, so I didn’t have it totally memorized, but it looked the same as it always had to me. “It’s nice?”
Gianni snickered. “You don’t see it? Look closely.”
I scanned the garden for anything that didn’t look familiar to me when finally my eyes landed on a tree near the back of the property. It was still just a sapling, but there was a new tree with pink flowers budding on the ends of its branches. “Is that a Cherry Blossom tree?”
“Straight from Japan,” Gianni said. “Happy birthday.”
I looked up at him, my mouth slightly agape. “Huh?”
He smiled down at me. “I tried to be okay with the fact that I hadn’t gotten you anything for your birthday, but it didn’t feel good to me. Eighteen is a big year! For my eighteenth birthday, I was locked in the basement and forced to fight my father’s men one after the other, and my mother never even spoke to me, but I did get one thing. Your letter. It recovered what would have otherwise been a horrible day for me, so I just couldn’t do it. I had to get you something. I would have opted for something different if we weren’t in the circumstances we’re in, so I went with this. Whenever you look out into the garden, you’ll see your favorite tree, bearing your favorite flowers, from your favorite place and know that it's growing with you.”
Tears started to fill the corners of my eyes. I did not expect to receive anything at all from Gianni. His letter of recognition was enough for me, but for him to get me something so beautiful, I was blown away.
“Do you not like it?” he asked. “You haven’t said anything.”
“I haven’t said anything because I’m speechless,” I managed to squeak out. “It’s wonderful. I love it.”
He smiled, satisfied that I was being honest. “Oh. Good.”
In an attempt to hide my tear-stained face from Gianni, I turned around and walked back into the bedroom, and he followed after me, closing the doors as he did. I pulled the letter I’d written him and set it down on the desk then picked up my bucket and made a beeline for the door.
“Leaving already?” he said, and he sounded truly sad.
Little did he know, I had to go. If I stuck around any longer, hearing him say sweet words, or looking even longer at my incredible gift, I’d start to convince myself there was more between us than there ever would be.
“Alegna will be angry if I take too long,” I said. I opened the door and started to step out, but then I stopped. Turning my head enough so that Gianni could tell I was speaking to him, but not so much that he could see my eyes, I said, “Gianni. Thank you.”
“Yeah,” he replied. “Happy birthday, Philippa. 18 years down, a lifetime to go.”
A lifetime with him I hoped. “Yeah.” My heart was beating so fast, I was convinced it was going to collapse my chest. “Wish me luck.”
5
Gianni
There were times that my father would get into a trend of leaving me alone, not necessarily speaking to me at all, but also not torturing me. It happened once or twice a year, and I celebrated those times like holidays. During these times I would take a couple of days to travel to a place that brought me happiness and travel around the house with a little less trepidation.
I would even take some time to sit down with each of my siblings and check in on how they were doing. As far as I could tell, none of them were receiving the same treatment I was, although I got the sense from my youngest brother, Savio, that something was amiss. I implored him to stay strong in the face of adversity, as I did with all of my siblings, but my father had poisoned their brains against me enough and they rarely believed anything I had to say. That mattered less to me, as long as I could get the words out, I would, and leave the rest to fate.
There was something different this time, however. It was hard to say what had initiated it, but I was inclined to believe it started when Lucia came to visit our family one day. The attention she was getting from Romeo was harsh, but just like always, I treated her with kindness. In order to stay out of my father’s fire, I didn’t allow myself to indulge in her beauty too much up close, but I resolved to work from my balcony during the days she spent with us, watching her drift through the gardens below.
At one point, she rested by the blooming cherry blossom tree in the back. It had grown an impressive amount in three years, but as odd as it was when Lucia stood below it, she almost looked out of place. I’d seen Philippa sitting under the tree reading the letters I’d written to her; it was a sight I’d enjoyed on more than one occasion.
She, too, had grown an impressive amount in the past three years. She was giving the cherry blossom tree a run for its money for the most beautiful thing in the garden on any given day.
My father noticed me keeping an eye on Lucia and inquired. “She’s quite beautiful,” he said behind me.
Typically, when people said that, it was a compliment, but when my father said it, it sounded like a threat. “She is,” I responded.
“She’s promised to your brother,” he replied.
