Page 3 of Forsaken Promises
A lump wells in my throat as the poignancy of his words sinks in. My vision blurs with tears as I imagine Papa, frail but beaming with pride, escorting us to our grooms, giving us away at the altar in his final act of love and devotion.
“We’ll make it happen, Papa,” I promise hoarsely. “No matter what it takes. We know you’ll find husbands for us. We want to make you proud.”
“You already make me proud, Sofia. Each and every day.” Papa reaches out to clasp my hand, his palm dry and papery against my skin. “I am sorry if my protectiveness has denied you a chance at love before now.”
I swallow hard, forcing a tremulous smile. “I know, Papa. I trust you. I trust that you’ll find a man who is worthy of our family.”
He squeezes my fingers, his gaze warm and loving. “You are so strong, my darling. So brave. I know you will face whatever comes with grace and courage.”
One by one, he embraces us all, murmuring words of comfort and affection. We cling to him, this man who has always been our rock, our defender, our hero. The man who now needs us to be strong for him.
As we leave the study, arms around each other, I catch my father’s eye. In that moment, a silent promise passes between us. A vow to uphold our family's honor, come what may. To face the future together, even when he can no longer lead the way.
* * *
After the emotionalmeeting with Papa, my sisters and I retreat to my bedroom to cry together and process his devastating news. We sit in a circle on the plush rug, passing around a box of tissues.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Mia sniffles, her eyes puffy and red. “Papa has always been so strong, so invincible in my eyes.”
“I know,” Chiara agrees, wiping her nose. “The thought of losing him…” She swallows hard, unable to finish.
“And now he wants to marry us off before he… before he dies,” Bianca says, twisting the damp tissue in her hands. “I know he means well, but the idea of him choosing our husbands…” She trails off, looking troubled.
“I never want to marry,” I declare vehemently, hugging a pillow to my chest. “I hate men. I would rather be alone for the rest of my life than tie myself to one of them.”
Bianca rolls her eyes. “You’re only saying that because you fell for a playboy jerk like Dominico Sicura. You can’t hold a grudge against the entire male sex just because he charmed his way into your pants, took your virginity, and then broke your heart.”
I flinch at the painful memory, my eyes stinging with fresh tears. Chiara puts a comforting arm around my shoulders.
“That’s not fair, Bianca,” she chides gently. “Dom was… very charming and attentive. Anyone could have fallen for him. Sofia loved him deeply. Of course she’s wounded by what he did.”
“What did he do, exactly?” Mia asks, looking between us curiously. As the youngest, she was only thirteen when my world was torn apart.
I take a shuddering breath. “He made me believe I was the only one for him. He said he would love me forever. I thought we would get married someday. But it was all a lie. He broke my heart and said I was foolish to believe he would ever marry someone like me.”
“Someone like you?” Bianca scoffs, blue eyes flashing. “You mean someone young, beautiful, and from the most powerful Family in the city? The nerve of that fucker! I always knew he was a jackass.”
“Well, I for one am glad Papa has protected us,” Chiara declares. “Imagine if we had all been seduced and abandoned like poor Sofia!” She looks at me apologetically, realizing how hurtful her words sound.
Mia nods as I squeeze Chiara’s hand in forgiveness. “Papa was wise to be so protective. But choosing our husbands for us…”
Bianca tosses her black hair over her shoulder, her eyes flashing. “I think it’s silly, Papa choosing our husbands. This isn’t the Middle Ages. We should be able to marry whoever we want! And what if we don’t want to get married? What if I want a career?”
“And who would you choose, B?” Chiara asks, arching a brow. “That Ambrosio boy you’ve been sneaking around with?”
Bianca’s cheeks flush, but she lifts her chin defiantly. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just marry whoever Papa picks and be done with it. As long as he doesn’t expect me to play the perfect little princess wife, I don’t really care who I end up with.”
I shake my head at her blasé attitude. Bianca has always been the rebellious one, the wild child. I worry that her devil-may-care approach to life will land her in trouble one day.
“I hope Papa chooses a kind man for me,” Chiara says softly, twisting a lock of hair around her finger. “Someone like Dante.”
We all nod in agreement. Dante Tenebre is a close family friend, someone we’ve known since childhood as his father is our father’s righthand man. He’s nearly thirty, but he’s always been sweet and protective of us all, like a big brother.
“Dante would be a good husband,” Mia agrees. She sighs wistfully. “I trust Papa to find a good match for me too. I just wish…” Her voice catches and her eyes fill with tears again. “I just hope he lives long enough to walk me down the aisle like he wants, to see us all settled and happy.”
My heart clenches at the sorrow in her words, the pain we’re all trying so hard to be strong through. I reach out to pull Mia into a tight hug, blinking back my own tears.
“He will, Mia,” I promise fiercely. “Papa is strong. He’ll fight with everything he has. You know how stubborn he is. We’ll all get our dream weddings, with him right there by our sides.”
