I calmed, reaching for them. “Mari—”
She drew back in haste. “I hate you!” she yelled shakily, pulling Enzo away with her.
I watched them disappear down the hallway, biting my tongue and silently cursing myself for losing control like that.
Sighing, I pulled off my shoes and socks, knowing Mamá didn’t like it when you entered her room wearing them.
I pushed open the door, my heart melting the moment I spotted my mother pacing back and forth, biting her fingers as she mumbled. Tears were streaming down her face, her feet were bare, and she left bloodstains on the ground as she stepped on the shattered glass, almost like she didn’t feel the pain.
“Mamá,” I whispered as I entered the room. I didn’t care about the pain that bit at my feet as I rushed toward her; I didn’t care that I was cutting myself; I just knew I had to get to her, to bring her back here. To me. To reality. “Mamá,” I called louder this time, stopping before her as she tried to step past me.
I blocked her path, and she moved to my other side, which I blocked again. Her eyes were unseeing.
“Mamá, look at me.” I tried to catch her gaze.
She shook her head, trying to get around me, but I wouldn’t let her, and then she screamed. She threw slaps and blows at me.
“Get out! Get out, you bastard!”
I tried to grab ahold of her hands as she screamed. “Mamá, it’s me. It’s Elio, look at me!”
“No! Elio’s dead! You killed my baby! You drowned my only child, you bastard! Get out! Get out of my life! Leave me alone!”
“No. Mamá, I’m okay! I’m alive, Elio’s here, I’m here!” I caught her hands, and she tried kicking me. “Mamá, please, stop—” She drove her head right into my jaw, and I tasted blood on my lip, but I still tried to subdue her.
“Leave me alone!” she screamed.
“No, look at me! I’m here now! I’m here—”
She fought me. I didn’t want to hurt her; she was so fragile that I feared I’d bruise her wrist if I tightened my grip.
I loosened my hand, not letting her go because I knew she would turn to find the nearest object to hurl at me, and when she did turn to reach for a vase, I wrapped my arms around her from behind, holding her tight, locking her back to my chest.
“No!” A scream tore out of her. “Let me go, Ricardo!”
“Mamá, it’s Elio! Try to listen to me, please!” The desperation in my voice rumbled from my chest.
“Fuck off! I will murder you, you son of a bitch! I will fucking kill you for killing my baby!” As she screamed, she forcefully tried to squirm her way out of my hold, but I held firm, even though my head was a bit foggy from the alcohol.
We both staggered on our feet, and I must have stepped on something because I was falling to the ground, still holding her.
To shield her head from hitting the bedpost, I swirled us around and took her position. My elbow landed on a shard of glass, and the back of my head connected forcefully with the iron pole.
I saw fucking stars for about two minutes, but I still held her firm, even as she kicked her feet, jabbing her elbows into my stomach.
Sweating with the effort, I tried to keep her steady. I tightened my hold around her, her back pressed to my chest as I locked her legs with mine, ceasing her movements.
“Please let me go! Don’t hurt me!” she cried out in panic.
“I will never hurt you,” I told her calmly, feeling warm liquid slide down my scalp to my neck; I knew it was blood. The sharp pain at the back of my head was almost blinding. “Never, Mamá.”
“Then let me go, Ricardo.”
“It’s Elio. I’m Elio.Por favor, come back to me.” I rocked her back and forth gently. “Por favor,” I whispered.
My grip tightened.
“You killed him. You killed my only child.”
