“I am not demonstrating my virtues.”
Whose virtues, I want to ask, because they are certainly not mine, but that is a discussion for another time. “I think Master would understand how difficult it might be for you to scene with someone new. And I think he would be happy you are trying to get your needs met. I don’t think he would be angry or disappointed in you. On the contrary, I think he would be very proud.”
Giovanni looks at me as if to see if I’m telling the truth. I kiss his nose, which he scrunches up adorably.
“You are too soft with me, Sir.”
“Probably, but you are my weakness. It hurts my heart to see you in pain, which is how we ended up here in the first place, yes?”
He nods and burrows into my chest, then says very softly, “I wanted it to be Master, Silvio. I wanted it so bad.”
I will not be the one to tell him his Master is gone forever. That is something he’ll have to accept when he’s ready.
After leaving Leandro’s,I take Giovanni on a brief tour of the university and walk him through their beautiful, hallowed library. When I ask him if he could ever see himself in a place such as this, he looks at me very intently and says, “Maybe.”
One must give thanks for small victories.
Now he is penning a letter of apology to Leandro on the fancy stationery he buys in town from his former employer. His face is thoughtful, pensive. I’m reluctant to call it a punishment because it is simply the right thing to do, but Giovanni needs the closure of being granted forgiveness. Tomorrow, before we return home, we will deliver it to Leandro ourselves.
I let myself out to the balcony so that I may have some privacy to call him myself. We parted on good terms, but I feel another conversation is warranted. When Leandro answers, I open with, “I wanted to call and apologize again for this afternoon. I didn’t know he would react that way.”
“How could you have known? It was an experiment for us all. And it wasn’t a failure. You both learned something important, didn’t you?”
I try to piece together what lessons may have come from such a demonstration. That I shouldn’t push him? That I should have consulted my brother’s ghost?
“I suppose we did,” I say, a little ashamed that I cannot anticipate Giovanni’s needs the way Valentin could.
“My advice is to be as patient with yourself as you are with him, Silvio. You’ve suffered a loss too. The death of your brother not only created a void in your life but also altered the dynamic that you and Gio shared. Perhaps when the grief isn’t so fresh, we could try again.”
Leandro’s offer is far more generous than I might have imagined. “Thank you for your grace, dear friend. Please don’t hesitate to call on me if there’s any way I can help you.”
“I treasure our dinners, Silvio. They mean more to me than you know. And I’m enjoying getting to know your boy. He is every bit as enchanting as you’ve said.”
We end the call and I sit on the balcony a while longer, watching the bustle of the piazza below, listening to the laughter and lively shouts drifting up from the courtyard like the fragrances of savory food.
“Is Leandro upset with me?” Giovanni asks. Silent as a cat, he stands in the open doorway as if waiting for my explicit permission to join me outside. I hold out my hand and draw him in closer, kissing the top of his knuckles.
“No, princess. He was very understanding. He knows you’re grieving. He said we couldn’t have known how you might respond. Did you know?”
“No. At first, I was nervous, I wanted to do well. Then I got excited, thinking it might help, but then I became bitter. The voices were mad that it wasn’t Master hurting us. They felt tricked and… betrayed. Master made a lot of promises, and I know he meant to keep them, but… I was angry.”
“Who were you angry at, sweetheart?” I ask as I pull him into my lap and stroke along his spine.
“I was mad at Master for leaving me, for forcing me to allow a stranger to do this to me, something we had always cherished. I… I’m mad at him, Sir.” He grunts with displeasure, fists balled in his lap. I slowly unfurl one of them and hold it in my own.
“You can be mad at someone and still love them very deeply.”
“I guess so,” he says, looking glum.
“I used to have a motorbike, one that I adored, but I was reckless with it, drove after I’d been drinking, went too fast, that sort of thing. One day, I got into an accident. I was okay, but I was hurt pretty badly. Valentin flew in from America to yell at me in my hospital bed. When I got out, the first thing he did was douse my bike in gasoline and make me strike the match. And as we watched my beloved bike burn, he made me swear to get my act together. That was when we took a trip to Ischia, and he asked me about my dreams. Valentin told me he would come back and beat my ass if I didn’t straighten myself out, and I believed him.”
Giovanni smiles. “Master could be very persuasive.”
“And scary,” I add with a hearty laugh. We’re quiet, each of us remembering the man who molded us into the men we are today. “But he’s not here, sweet boy, not in the way we both want him to be. It’s just the two of us now, and we must figure out a way to go on without him. I love you, Giovanni. My feelings for you are as wild and boundless as the sea, and I’m committed to being your Dominant, but I need you to teach me how to rule you. Not in the way of your Master, but in a manner that is all my own. What do you say to that? Will you help me, princess?”
He nods solemnly and says with the utmost sincerity, “I will help you, Sir.”
8
