“Salvatore,” my father said after glancing at Lucia on my arm.
“Father.” They’d moved a hospital bed into his study. It stood in place of his desk, which was pushed to the side. I remembered that desk, how I’d trembled on the opposite side of it when I’d been called in for this reprimand or that growing up. There had always been something he was displeased with.
“Don’t just stand there, come inside. It’s not contagious.”
His bitterness held an edge of regret. I heard it clearly.
We both entered. He adjusted his positon, so he sat up taller. He looked so much smaller than the last time I’d seen him. So much older. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his cheeks looked sunken. He must have lost about twenty pounds too.
“I came to say good-bye,” I said, not wanting to delay this any further.
He once again glanced at Lucia before returning his gaze to mine.
“I assume you’ve seen the contract?”
“Roman showed it to me.”
“Well, here’s your own copy.” I set it on the foot of the bed. “You were wrong to tell Dominic. He never needed to know.”
He took in a deep breath, and his hand trembled, but his eyes remained fixed and hard.
“It was a mistake,” he said. “One I will pay for until the end.” No one spoke for a long moment. “Will I see you again?”
“No.”
He lowered his gaze to the envelope then back to me.
“I forgive you,” Lucia said, surprising me. “I forgive you for everything you did, all the hurt you caused.”
He only stared at her, but I couldn’t read his eyes.
“We never could please you, huh? None of us, not my brothers, not our mother, not really.”
“I’ve never been an easy man, son. Don’t think I don’t know that. And don’t think I don’t know I’ve made mistakes. I only did what was best for my family.”
“I believe you believe that.”
I released Lucia’s hand then and went to him. Leaning down, I kissed the top of his head. “Good-bye, father.”
His eyes glistened when they met mine, and he nodded but didn’t speak. I walked away and took Lucia’s hand. Without a backward glance, we left the house, got into the car, and drove away.
It was silent for a very long time, and I wasn’t even sure where I was driving to.
“I want to scrub my skin,” I said finally, inhaling a loud breath. “I want to burn my clothes and wash with scalding hot water.”
“Pull over, Salvatore.”
“I want—”
“Pull over.”
I did. Lucia reached over and wrapped her arms around me. I buried my face in her shoulder and wept like no man should weep. “I’ve never wanted to leave a place so badly. I’ve never wanted to leave a person—”
“Shh.”
“So many lives wasted.”
She held me, and I clung to her. A lifetime’s worth of pain and sadness welled out of me. So much was lost for so many of us, all of it so pointless, so unnecessary. So much death, so much anger and jealousy and hate. So much I needed to purge until there was nothing left, nothing at all but this broken, exhausted body.
