18
ALESSANDRO
How is it that I feel the cold mist against my face and smell the fresh earth dug up to make space for Dad’s coffin, but I can’t shake this sense of being in a dream while I stand in the cemetery?
All around me are mourners dressed in black, some of them holding umbrellas, some sniffling with emotion I find it hard to believe is sincere.They’re only performing the way people are supposed to perform at a time like this.There’s no way they genuinely mourn him.He never spent an hour of his life trying to make anyone else’s life better, and that includes Sophia’s and mine.
She’s standing to my right, with Dante on her other side.For all of our differences, I’m glad she has him now.She’s leaning against him, stone-faced but with red-rimmed eyes that tell me she’s done her share of crying today.Like me, she doesn’t hold an umbrella, but Dante holds one for both of them.
Mom sits to my left, wearing a wide-brimmed black hat and sunglasses that cover most of her face.She’s stone-faced, too, but for a different reason.No doubt she took something out of one of the many pill bottles on her nightstand to help her get through this charade.She has lived in a haze the past five days since I went home to take care of things.
Now I’m wrung out.The days blended into each other, broken up only by a few hours of sleep here or there when I had the chance.He left an epic mess in his wake.The man knew he was dying, yet he barely did a damn thing to clear the path for the people left behind.In the end, that’s who he was.Selfish, careless, satisfied to get his with no thought of anyone around him.
But in the end, he was my father, so here I stand.
The minister offers prayers with his back to an absolute embarrassment of flower arrangements.Not a dime was spared by the many people who wished to pay their respects and offer condolences.I’m sure the florist shops in the area have been busy as hell since word spread.It all seems like such a waste for someone who cared so little for anyone but himself.
My gaze falls on the coffin, pearl white and gleaming under a gray sky.Is it wrong of me to have these thoughts about him now that he’s dead?Do I care?Right and wrong have never mattered much to me, but there are certain things a son is not supposed to think about his father.
Through it all, I stand alone, my hands deep in the pockets of a black coat buttoned up to my neck.Staring straight ahead for the most part, because if I let my attention drift, I know where it’s going to land.
She shouldn’t be here.There’s no need for it.Rocco came, which is understandable, considering the truce he and Dad brokered.Isabella accompanies him, probably for show, maybe to support Sophia.Luca is here, too, though Emilia’s absence is understandable.There are plenty of people in attendance who wouldn’t appreciate even a former detective standing graveside.He’s protecting her, and I can understand that.
But Giulia?She shouldn’t be here.And not because I don’t want to see her.The opposite is true.The first glimpse of her in the church, during the viewing, took my breath away.For the first time in days, the fog of exhaustion and being overwhelmed broke.I was myself again.Things made sense again.I didn’t realize until just then that my ears had been ringing for days.Only when everything went quiet again was there sweet relief, like I could finally breathe again.
She’ll never know how much I’ve craved her touch.The simple pleasure of her perfume hanging in the air.There are times I’ll go home at the end of the night and smell her on me.It took being apart for most of a week for me to notice.I’ve missed that.
I’ve missedher.
She was polite, almost cordial, when she shook my hand as part of the receiving line in front of the coffin.I don’t think I’ve ever fought harder to keep my composure than I did there, in front of hundreds of supposed mourners—most importantly, her family.No one would know she’s been trying to get a hold of me all this time, and I’ve been avoiding her.
For her sake, nothing more.
I’m no good for her now, the way I’m feeling, with everything I have to deal with.
I’m no good for herever.
Now is not the time to spiral.There will be plenty of time for that later, when I have no choice but to go back to the Santoro estate and resume my duties as their employee.As far as I know, no end date was ever set.It’s a conversation Rocco and I need to have, but that’s not happening today.All I have to worry about today is getting through it, then maybe sleeping for a week.There is still so much to process.Belongings to go through, perhaps even the sale of the house, now that Mom would be there alone.She doesn’t need anything nearly that big.
The one person I would like to talk about it with, the one person I know would listen hardest, is the one person I don’t dare look at.From the corner of my eye, I see her standing between her parents.I can’t trust myself to hide what I’m feeling, how I need her.
This would all be so much easier if I couldn’t feel the weight of her stare on the back of my neck as the service continues.My fists tighten in my pockets.This has to be over soon.
And it is.Nothing lasts forever.
The weather leaves everyone in a hurry to get back to their cars—a small miracle.Mom needs help getting on her feet without stumbling, commanding my attention, and allowing me to avoid Giulia a little while longer.This is too dangerous.She really should have stayed home, if only for her sake.
“Watch your step,” I murmur to Mom, tottering in her stilettos along soft, damp ground.
“Thank God we sprang for the open bar at the luncheon,” she slurs, gripping my arm with her claw-like nails.
“I’m not sure you need to be worried about that right now, Mom.”That’s the last thing she needs after whatever narcotics she’s already popped down her throat.She’ll end up face down in a plate of food she wouldn’t eat anyway.
“I’m sorry.Did I ask if you think I should drink or not?My husband died,” she retorts.
Old, familiar rage slithers through me like a venomous snake, not just ready to strike, but eager to.He’s been waiting so goddamn long to be unleashed after having free rein over me all these years.
As if I don’t know her husband died.
