“It’s got to be me.” Her voice is devoid of emotion as she steps out of the protective embrace of my arms.
“I know, my donna.”
Catarina nods at my men, and they push Renzo to his knees. “I love you,” he says, looking up at her. “I always have, and I always will. It has been an honor to watch you grow into the woman you are today. You wouldn’t be that woman if you didn’t do what needs to be done. I forgive you.”
Rina takes a few seconds to speak, and I can tell she’s struggling to hold on to her composure. But I don’t intervene. She doesn’t want that. She needs to handle this herself, and I will be there to help her pick up the pieces. “As I forgive you,” she says. She kneels in front of him. “I love you too, Renzo. Not in the same way, but there is love in my heart for you. I will never forget what you did for me. I will never forget how you cared for me and helped me to heal.” Her voice cracks, and she pauses for a few seconds. “I want to hate you for putting me in this position, but I can’t hate you. You did it because you were trying to protect me.”
“Don’t hate yourself either,” he tells her, and I respect him for not protesting the inevitable. “Can you make sure my children are okay? Their grandparents will take them in. I altered my will to leave everything to them in a trust until my kids turn eighteen.”
“You have my word your children will be looked after. I will check in on them myself regularly. I will ensure they want for nothing.”
“Thank you.” He leans in and kisses her briefly.
I want to hate him for it, but he’s too tragic a character to hate him any longer. He is the creator of his own demise—he and his wife, and it’s their kids who will pay the price.
A serene sort of peace sweeps over his face. “I am ready.” He clasps his hands in front of him and bows his head.
I offer my hand, and Catarina holds on to it as she rises to her feet.
She pricks his thumb with her knife before placing her hand on his downturned head. “He entered alive and leaves dead. May God have mercy on your burned soul.” Removing her hand from his head, she steps back, lifting her gun.
Around us, every man has gone completely silent and motionless, watching this play out.
“Rest in peace, Ren,” she whispers before pulling the trigger.
The shot is clean; straight through his skull, and he falls forward, dropping dead at her feet. The gun slides out from her hand, falling to the ground, as she turns around and walks for the front door, somehow holding herself together on the outside while I know she is self-destructing inside.
ChapterForty-Six
Massimo
“Hey. How is she?” Nicolina asks the second she steps foot in the kitchen. I load the plate of eggs and bacon onto the tray beside the toast, orange juice, and coffee before turning to my wife’s best friend.
“The same. I’m really starting to worry now. It’s been four days, and she won’t come out of the bedroom. I have to force her to shower and eat, and she’s barely talking. She still hasn’t cried.” I scrub a hand along the thick growth on my chin. “I don’t know what else to do to help her.” I have never felt so helpless.
“I will try to entice her to take a walk or a run on the beach,” she says.
“You can try again, for sure, but let me take her breakfast first.” Grabbing the tray, I walk out of the kitchen and along the hallway to our bedroom.
Rina is lying on her side on the bed, staring forlornly into space, when I enter. Pain spears through my chest at the sight of her. I hate seeing her look so lost, so vulnerable, so tormented.
“Nic is here to see you,” I say, rounding the bed and setting the tray down on the bedside table. Sighing, she peers up at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. I brush hair off her face and tuck it behind her ears. “I have breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Like I’ve said, you need to eat, sweetheart.” I kiss her softly. “You’re scaring the shit out of me,mia amata. I hate seeing you like this.”
“I don’t know how to deal with it,” she meekly says, pulling herself upright in the bed. “I can’t reconcile what he did. What I had to do. I don’t know how to feel or which emotion is the most prevalent. I’m mad. Hurt. Sad. Guilty. And I feel so betrayed.”
Tears fill her eyes as she stares at me, and I hate to call it progress, because I hate seeing her upset, but it is. This is the most she has said to me in recent days, and it’s the first time she has spoken about Renzo. It appears some emotion is filtering through, and that’s a good thing. She needs to let it all out before she can begin to grieve and heal. She has been dealt several blows this past week, and it’s a lot to take in.
“I just can’t make sense of it. I keep going round and round in my head. How could this have happened? How could he do this instead of coming to me? Is it my fault because there was tension between us?” She shakes her head and rubs her eyes.
“He made his own choices, Rina. He chose to handle it alone instead of talking to you. This isn’t your fault. Renzo didn’t blame you. He knew and accepted what you had to do. He told you he forgave you, so you need to forgive yourself, sweetheart. You know he wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
She shrugs, clamping her lips shut, and I sense our conversation is over for now. I scoop up a forkful of eggs, and she opens her mouth, letting me feed her, like every other time. When she’s done, she drinks some juice and reaches for the mug of coffee. “Would you like me to send Nic in? She thought you might like to go for a walk on the beach.”
Rina clasps the mug in both hands, setting the base down on top of her raised knees. Tilting her head to the side, she stares at me. “Actually, could we get out of here today?”
