She exhales a stream of smoke, her gaze fixed ahead—lost in a place deep within her distant memories, a place I can’t reach.
“Time is a strange thing,” she murmurs. “After fifty years, I can still remember the scent of his skin, the warmth of his arms, the sound of his voice. The nights we made love under the moonlight, even the smell of the bread I used to bake for him. It’s all so vivid, like it happened just yesterday. The pain is also just as raw. Just as unbearable.”
I notice tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.
“What happened, Nonna?” I ask softly.
“My wretched excuse for a father happened. That bastard lost me in a card game…to that pig Roberto.”
If I were a girl from a normal family, my eyes would’ve gone wide with shock. But in this world, stories like this are far too common. Roberto was my grandfather, who died years ago, even before my mother passed.
“Roberto found out we planned to run away. He burned Pedro alive, along with the vineyard.”
I gasp, clamping a hand over my mouth. I can’t stop the tears spilling down my cheeks. “Oh, Nonna!”
She stubs out her cigarette in the ashtray, takes my hand, and offers me a sad smile.
“I have no regrets. If I could turn back time, knowing everything that would happen, I still wouldn’t say no to love. I wouldn’t trade the warmth of Pedro’s hands for anything in this world.”
She gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m lucky, Lucia. So lucky that I found my soulmate in this lifetime, that I got to hold his hand, kiss his lips. I’m lucky I experienced what it meant to become a woman in his arms. The warmth of those kisses has kept my heart alive for fifty years.
I know he’s in heaven now. The only thing keeping me from ending my life is the hope of seeing him again, this time in a place where nothing and no one can come between us.”
I watch her, and for a moment, beneath the frail body and weathered face, I see a young woman—vibrant, full of life—trapped in this form. A woman longing for the reunion with her lost love.
I glance back at the photo, and, unbidden, the cold, dark eyes of Tony pop into my head.
“What if you love a man who doesn’t love you back?” I ask softly. “Is that kind of love still worth it?”
I tear my gaze away from the photo and meet her blue eyes. There’s a sweet smile on her face.
“If you love a man with all your heart and with pride, one day he will love you back.”
She looks at me for a moment longer, then leaves without another word, retreating to her room. She leaves me alone, but her words echo in my head until morning.
After going to my bedroom I lean back against the headboard, legs stretched out, staring at the broken pieces of the necklace Tony once gave me. The first rays of sunlight filter into the room, bathing it in a soft glow.
I think about Nonna’s words and the tragic story she shared. Her story is nothing like mine, yet it reveals a truth I can’t ignore. In the end, whether we’re rich or poor, old or new, love always outweighs honor.
***
I check my makeup one last time in the full-length mirror. The dark eyeshadow makes my eyes look bigger, more striking. I adjust the long lace dress and take one last look at myself. The top is just two sheer scraps of fabric that barely cover my breasts. Thin crisscross straps run from my lower back all the way up to my neck, barely holding the dress together. I drape my hair over one shoulder, spray a little more perfume on my neck, and wait.
It’s the third week. I know Tony will come tonight. When I came into the room, the dress I’m wearing was already laid out on the bed. There was no note, but the message was clear—he’s on his way.
A soft click sounds behind me. My heart flutters. It’s him, I know it. I don’t turn around. I watch him step out of the hidden door in the wardrobe through the mirror. As always, he looks impeccable—black hair combed back, suit perfectly tailored. The scent of his cologne wafts through the air, as soothing and intoxicating as a forbidden drug.
His eyes light up the second he sees me in the dress. He stops mid-step. Our gazes lock in the mirror, caught in a silent stare. It’s hard for even me to believe, but despite being nearly naked in front of him, I don’t shy away. His gaze is focused, intense, yet I don’t look away. Knowing I please him sends a rush of pride through me.
Finally, he moves forward, stopping behind me. He buries his face into my neck and takes a deep breath.
“Did you miss me?” he murmurs, voice low.
Without thinking, I tilt my head to give him more access. One arm snakes around my waist, pulling me close, while the other cups my breast through the sheer fabric of my dress.
He trails wet kisses along my shoulder blade, pausing to nip gently at the curve of my shoulder. A soft moan falls from my mouth, and I murmur his name.“Tony...”
He spins me around in his arms, trapping me in the firm cage of his body. His mischievous gaze bores into mine as his voice drops to a husky, sensual tone. “First time you’ve said my name like that. I like it.”
