He sighed, and I knew it was because he understood where this was going. He always did, even if he let mamma do most of the talking. My father wasn’t a man of many words. He had trouble with feelings and things that probably felt too soft to him. The discussion couldn’t be helped, though. When he thought that mamma was going to die, he was going to go with her and leave me and my brothers behind.
That was when I knew how fucking scary the connection between them was. How selfish it was. And I didn’t want it. I swore that I could overcome it. But each day that I fought it, fought Saverio, I felt like I was losing myself. The very thing I couldn’t stand to do. It was like my existence was connected to his.
When I denied him, I denied myself. When I saved him, I saved myself.
Like I’d done when the prop came swinging down like an ax. I knew he was in trouble before it even fell.
“It is selfish,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t change the truth, Mia. This life isn’t worth living without mamma in it with me. I go where she goes; she goes where I go. That doesn’t mean we don’t love you or your brothers more than our own lives. It only means that you’ll see me as an entire man or not at all, ah?”
He went to touch my chin, but I moved my face away.
“Tell that to the kid you almost left behind,” I said. It was the first time I’d ever said it so bluntly.
“You break my heart,” he said in Italian.
“You broke mine,” I whispered.
“Do you love me, Mia?”
My head went down, and our eyes connected. “Of course I do,” I said, my answer automatic and without hesitation. If he only knew how much I loved him and mamma… That was why it hurt me so bad. It left a scar that would never fade.
He grinned at me, and this time, I let him take my chin. “I love you more than my own life,” he said in Italian. “You are everything good about me.”
I nodded and looked away again, trying to compose myself.
“Sometimes we must see our parents as more than just our parents,” he said. “We have to see them as people who are no more than flesh, blood, and bone. No one is perfect. We do the best we can.”
His words drifted between us. I let them settle, hoping one day I could do as he said. But that kid who felt abandoned years ago refused to let it go. There was no use in beating it to death, though, so I decided to redirect the conversation.
“You sent for Saverio,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “I did.”
This time I met his eyes.
“Why?”
“He’d die for you,” he said in Italian.
Even though the sun had started to rise, I shivered and crossed my arms over my chest. “You trust him to take care of me.”
He nodded. “Or I wouldn’t have sent for him.”
“Send him back,” I said. “Give him another assignment.”
“No,” he said. “He belongs here.”
“You want him to die.” The anger behind my voice couldn’t be hidden.
Mamma might have talked him down, but maybe he had sent for him knowing how dangerous this would be. Maybe he was going to give me what I wanted but in a way I never expected. In a way that would killmeif it killedhim.
His eyes narrowed on mine, and I had to look away before I looked at him again.
“No,” he said. “But it’s his choice what he feels is worth dying for. You. He feels you are.”
“Let me guess,” I said with bite. “It would be the greatest honor of his life.”
“He’s a man, Mia.”
