Page 161 of Matteo

She exhales slowly.

“I still think of her sometimes, even though she’s gone.” Her voice quiets to a whisper, and I see it, really see it, in a way I've never seen before, the weight Mama carries for Aurora, still.

“You can’t feel guilty about her, Mama,” I say quietly. “You didn’t know about her. None of this was your fault. It was his.”

“But I still do, and I always will,” she whispers. “I may not have had anything directly to do with it, but I am involved, like a thread in a piece of fabric. Everything joins together.”

The gentle patter of falling rain is a welcome relief in the silence that follows.

“Your friend, the one from work, she must be special, for you to travel all this way, even if, as you say, she was attending a wedding. It's not like you, Matteo.”

I don't know what to say to her, that my heart is bruised. It's more than bruised. It feels cracked, like it’s about to splinter into tiny pieces.

But I can't tell her that. After I return, and I get the full lowdown from Alex, Elizabeth will be history.

There's no point in talking about her.

“There’s nothing to it, Mama.”

“How are they all?” she asks after a lengthy pause.

“Who?”

“Aurora's boys.”

“They’re good.” I stop to think about them. “We’re getting closer.”

“That's good. I like that you are.”

I smile as I tell her about the dinners again, and about the arguments, about the way we’re all trying, in our own way, to be something resembling a family.

And then I remember the real reason I’m here.

“Mama,” I say quietly, “you know he has kidney disease.”

“Rio told me. He said it's getting worse.” She studies me carefully.

“Then you must know why I’m here.”

“No,” she says. “Rio said you would tell me. Do I need to worry?”

I hesitate. “I’m the only one who matched. I’m the only one who can give him a kidney.”

Her mouth falls open. “You?”

I nod, as the words sit heavy between us. “What should I do?”

Mama doesn’t answer straight away. She leans back slightly, her gaze on me as steady as the rain that continues to fall.

“Matteo,” she says softly, “this isn’t just a question of what you should do. It’s a question of what you can live with.” She reaches across the table for my hand. “You must decide if giving this piece of yourself will bring you peace … or if not doing so will haunt you forever.” Her grip tightens slightly. “Either way, you must choose with your whole heart, not out of guilt, not out of obligation, but out of love.”

A growing unease crawls around in my stomach. “But I don't love him.”

“Your parents are the source of your life, and no matter what they've done, you have to accept that. You don't have to love him, but you have to make peace with what he did and who he is. You have to accept that he is your father, even if he is not a good man. You have to accept these things so that you can move on, figlio mio.”

I let out a heavy breath as the weight of her wisdom presses down on my chest. We’re still holding hands, my heart filling with such deep, profound love for this woman who I am so lucky to call my Mama. I will sleep on her words and hope that when I wake up, I will have reached some sort of decision.

Long after Mama goes to bed, I'm still sitting out in the garden. I've decided to return home tomorrow, because so much is at stake. I need to get back to the lab and see what the hell is going on.