“You would have done the same for me.”
The words ring hollow and flat, thoughI dobelieve in them. Accepting his apology would mean I have to face that he didn’t treat me like a brother should and I’m not ready to face that.
When he opens his arms, I gladly shuffle on the sofa to accept his embrace. I clench my jaw as tight as I can to stave off thetears that want to flow on his expensive suit. I just found the large family I wanted, that accepts and loves me, and I have to leave them already.
“Go on,” I say when we separate again. “I’m going to stay here for just a moment. I’ll be back inside in a few minutes.”
Dante nods and kisses my cheek before leaving me to my dark thoughts.
I thought following my dream of escaping the mafia and violence would be easy. So why do I feel like I’m cleaving my heart into pieces that won’t ever match again?
I pick up my phone from the black clutch I carried with me and dial the one person I need to hear right now.
“Salut Papa,” I greet my dad.
“Salut ma princesse. How’s your goodbye party going?”
“It would be better if you were here,” I sing-song, trying to bring levity to the topic. I wanted him here.
“Look behind you.”
I turn around and there he stands, a few steps behind me. Dressed in a beige suit with a dark brown dress shirt, he’s the picture of dapper. I run and crash into his arms. “You’re here.”
“Of course, I am,princesse.” We remain silent for a beat, locked in a tight hug that makes me feel both at home and hurt. Because I’ll miss it. When he steps back, he frowns. “Did you think I’d miss your goodbye party?”
It’s not only my goodbye party from London. This is a farewell to the Famiglia with a big F, the one you’re never supposed to leave.
“Are you still sure about this?”
“Yes,Papa. It’s what’s best for me.”
He nods, but it’s impossible to miss the flash of hurt in his brown eyes. He raised me to take over. And also, to make my own decisions. And I didn’t choose him.
He’d never tell me he’s disappointed, but it taints the air between us regardless. My father believed I would take over. The overwhelming feeling of inadequacy threatens to have me look for a blade and lock myself up until I’ve bled it out of me.
I do what I’ve done for the past three years instead. I smile brightly at him, put the offensive, pesky feeling in a box and ignore it for the rest of the night.
“You’ll still come to visit right? I’m still your annoying daughter, after all.”
“Not as annoying as Dante. ” We laugh, but it’s stilted. “I’ll come when I can, Loulou. It’s going to be good for you to start fresh.”
My dad has always involved me in the business side of the French branch of the Cosa Nostra. He’s always been truthful with me and right now, he’s lying through his teeth. He didn’t want me to leave for London and even less to separate from my roots.
His mouth tightens before he can cover it. I ignore what my instincts tell me, that he’s hiding something. I’m too raw and frazzled to face that tonight.
“I’ll miss you, dad.”
“I’ll miss you, too,princesse.”
“If you don’t visit, I’ll have Diane fly to see me first, and then you’ll be a sore loser when she tells you all about it,” I say, mentioning his right-hand-man’s wife.
She’s like a mother to me, and the friendly competition between my dad and her to see who can get the best hugs and smiles from me is always raging.
“I’m sure she’d love to rub it in my face,” my dad says. “Meanwhile, I’ll rub it in hers that I’m here and she’s not. Send her a selfie.”
He juts his chin to the phone in my hand and I snap a picture of us, grinning, to my godmother. She’s a quiet and reassuringpresence in my life. As the wife of my dad’s second-in-command, Michel Armani, she was always at our house. She used to braid my hair and take me shopping. It was obvious she’d never been around a kid, much less a twelve-year-old who just gotten her period and lost her parents. But she tried. I went to her for every question my father couldn’t possibly have an answer to. I wince imagining how he’d have reacted if I’d asked him why I bled after I was with my first boyfriend, and if it was normal that I wanted to be with women, too. Diane laughed it off and helped me figure out my pansexuality and navigate period cramps, amongst other things.
“I’ll miss her,” I say, my smile turning tight. I try to hide it behind a joke. “Michel, too, even if he’s a grumpy asshole.”
