Tony hasn’t come tonight either. But when I returned to my room, the flash drive was waiting on my desk. He gave me the money. Payment for his whore.
The tear I’ve been fighting for so long finally escapes, rolling down my cheek.
I feel so worthless—weak, easy, always giving in to him. I hate myself for how my heart races every time I see him, despite knowing the vile truth of who he is. It breaks me that he doesn’t love me. That he’ll never see me as anything but his whore.
And yet, fear paralyzes me. Fear of the day Carlo finds out my secret, fear of the consequences of the sin I’m committing.
I’m a woman betraying her husband. A disgrace of a wife who can’t say no to the man she loves, a man who sees her as nothing but a prostitute.
If my mother were still alive, I know she’d be ashamed of me.
The sound of the door opening pulls me out of my racing thoughts, my heart skipping a beat. I release the breath I hold when I see Nonna, and I quickly wipe my tears away.
She turns on the light and her eyes immediately find my swollen, red ones. She’s wearing her black robe, her face paler than usual.
I force a smile and walk toward her. “Couldn’t sleep, Nonna?”
She looks at me with eyes full of sorrow, sighs deeply, and sinks onto the couch.
“I had a bad dream.”
I sit beside her, taking her frail hand into mine.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
Her blue eyes meet mine—cold, distant, as if the light in them went out years ago.
“I dreamed about the people I loved and lost. My mother, my love, and your mother.”
Hearing her mention of my mother makes my throat tighten. Before the tears can fall, I lean over and rest my head on Nonna’s lap. Stretching my legs out along the couch, I enjoy her hand stroking my hair.
“I never knew you were in love with Grandfather,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
“You’re right. That bastard never knew what love was. He was a rabid dog, and I hope he’s rotting in hell.”
I tilt my head up to look at her. “So, who was the love of your life?”
Her eyes actually light up. A faint smile touches her lips, almost against her will. The hand stroking my hair pauses for a moment, radiating warmth. She’s staring straight ahead. Her body is here, but I’m certain her soul has traveled back in time.
“Pedro,” she sighs.
Even her voice is different—warmer, softer, almost young again. My heart races with excitement. The last thing I ever expected was that Nonna once carried love in her heart.
I wait eagerly for her to continue the story, but instead, she quietly rises from the couch and disappears into her room.
A few minutes later, she comes back with a photo and hands it to me. “Thank God it was in the safe and didn’t get damaged.”
I take it from her and look at it. It’s black and white, very old, with a diagonal crack across its surface.
It’s a picture of a young man wearing a white tank top, standing in the middle of a vineyard. One arm is wrapped around the waist of a delicate, slender girl in a sundress. Her arms are looped around his neck, her feet lifted off the ground. They’re looking at each other—the girl laughing wholeheartedly, the boy gazing at her with a mischievous grin.
I focus on the girl, then glance back at Nonna. I can’t believe it, but it’s her.
She notices my astonishment and chuckles. “What? Did you think I’d always been some junkie old hag?”
“No, Nonna, but this…who is this man?”
She leans back against the couch, lighting a cigarette. “We grew up together in a small village. We were always side by side—first as playmates, then friends, then lovers.”
