Something flickers in his eyes. Too fast to identify.
"You miss who I was," he says. "Not who I am."
"That's not true."
"Isn't it?" He wheels closer. "You miss the brother who could walk. Who was going to be Don. Who wasn't broken."
"You're not broken."
"Don't lie to me, Vittoria." His voice drops. Dangerous. "I can see it in your eyes. The pity. The disappointment."
"I don't pity you."
"Then what do you call it?" He gestures at himself. "This? You standing there looking at me like I'm some wounded animal?"
"I'm looking at you like you're my brother." My voice cracks. "The one I love. The one I'm worried about."
Bruno sighs. A long, heavy sound that seems to come from somewhere deep in his chest.
"I'm mad, Vittoria." His voice is quieter now. Less sharp. "I'm mad at the entire world."
I wait. Not sure what to say.
"And I can't change this feeling." He looks down at his hands. "I've tried. But it's always there. This rage."
My throat tightens.
"I'm mad at myself too," he continues. "For being like this. For pushing everyone away. For hurting you all."
"Bruno—"
"I didn't want to." He meets my eyes. "I didn't want to hurt you. Or Giulia. Or anyone. But I can't seem to stop."
I take a step toward him.
"So if you could please leave me alone." He turns his wheelchair away. Faces the window. "I don't need any company."
The words hit like a slap.
I stand there. Frozen.
Wanting to argue. To tell him he's wrong. That he does need someone.
But the set of his shoulders tells me everything.
He's done talking.
I nod. Even though he can't see me.
"Okay," I whisper.
Then I turn. Walk to the door.
My vision blurs. Tears threatening to spill.
I blink them back. Refuse to cry in front of him.
The hallway feels longer than before. Each step heavier.
