My conversation with Marco, an extremely similar conversation, echoes in my head. “That’s not true.”
“You don’t know Alessandro like I do. We’ve assumed for years Stella and Aldo ran to America. When I informed Alessandro that he needed to track down your family, he had no intention of being loyal to any union with a woman. And that was after I tried to smack him into it.”
My heart sinks into my stomach at Geno’s words. I should have known that Alessandro’s words were just that. I’ll stay home, let his children ruin my body, and be the perfect wife while he finds women to please him. Younger women. Prettier women. Skinny women. Geno reads the expression on my face and continues, “I knew the first time he mentioned that he found you that he would be loyal, even if he didn’t know it yet. Sei una donna bellissima, Luciana. I know you will be good for Alessandro.”
The response I want to say sits on my tongue, but it’s not the one I should give. Instead, I’ll give the polite one while changing the subject in the same breath. “Grazie, Geno. I guess I’m nervous about the wedding. I don’t want anything bad to happen.”
“Si, si, si. I understand. Just for you, I promise I will be polite. What is the saying I hear my colleagues mention their nipotisay? ‘If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.’ That’s it. Personally, in my field of work, that doesn’t exist. For you Luciana, I will do it.”
“Thank you.”
Geno embraces me, giving me the most awkward hug I could imagine. “Let’s not make ourselves liars. Tell me about this setup.”
An hour later, I turn to Geno and he’s practically short-circuiting. A laugh escapes me as I ask, “Geno, are you okay?”
“Huh? Oh yes. Si, si, si. Why do you ask?”
“You look like my laptop did when I spilled water on it in high school.”
“I’m fine. Weddings these days are unnecessarily extravagant. When I got married, we went to the church the day we got engaged, got married, my mamma made food, and we ate and drank with whoever would show up.”
Now I’m short-circuiting. “You got married the same day you got engaged? Why?”
“I’m going to let you guess why.”
My heart sinks and I know the answer immediately. “Because of my grandparents.”
“Si. We couldn’t let another business deal escape. We tried it the traditional way where the bride planned a wedding. Unfortunately, that didn’t work.” I hate the way he talks about his engagements, and in turn, me. “In a similar situation to Stella, her family owed money they couldn’t pay back. We cared for each other, even though we were not the loves of each other’s lives.”
“Did you ever have that love?”
Geno lets out a slow laugh. “I’m too old for that. Great loves don’t come to old men like me, regardless if I’d want it or not.” He straightens his jacket, turns around, and talks over his shoulder as he leaves the garden. “I need to go find Alessandro.”
I’m not sure what I did wrong, but Geno’s annoyance with me is a calmer version of Alessandro’s, with the same facial expression. Is annoyed and vocal or annoyed and calm more terrifying? I realize as I’m contemplating my question that Geno didn’t wait and I’m alone in the garden.
Running inside, I try to think of where he would have gone and conclude his office would be the obvious space. As I go to knock, I hear Marco, Geno, and Alessandro’s voices coming from the cracked door. Geno is yelling at the other two about some girl. All I manage to hear is she’s some young girl they met during the bachelor party. My heart drops into my stomach thinking about the double standard that’s set for me as a woman. I’ll never have the love story I preached to Geno. The one that everyone deserves.
The door opens the second I go to knock and I’m startled by Marco’s huge frame.
“Why are you eavesdropping?” In that moment, I wish I could shrink into a ball and roll away.
“I wasn’t. I-I didn’t know where everyone went. I didn’t hear anything, I promise.”
Alessandro yells at Marco, his voice booming from behind Marco’s large body. “Move, Marco.” I almost gasp when Marco moves, showing how vicious Alessandro appears from behind his desk. I’m convinced Alessandro would tear me to pieces if given the chance by the glare he gives me. He’s hot and cold and I never know what to expect from him. What’s changed from how he touched me in the garden to now?
“What do you want, Luci?” His question is sharp, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“I didn’t know where everyone went. I wasn’t eavesdropping, I promise.” My eyes fill with tears as I try to shake my head and blink them back, but Alessandro reads me like a book.
Alessandro rubs his temples, sighing to calm himself down before responding. “You said that already. I’m working and need to focus on that. I’ll come see you when I’m done.”
I can’t respond with words as I back away, running off to the room upstairs, and bumping into Enzo—literally—on my way up there. “Oof. I’m sorry Enzo, excuse me.”
Enzo grabs my wrist, turning me around to see my face streaked with tears. “What’s wrong?”
I open my mouth to respond, but my voice cracks instead. I take a second to swallow my sobs before answering his question. “Nothing, I just want to go upstairs. I need to be alone.” I know Enzo is following me, waiting until I reach the bedroom upstairs before stepping in front of me to scan his finger. Once I’m in, I slide my back down the door, finally letting out the ugly tears I held back.
I don’t know how long I cried, only that I woke up on the floor to voices outside of the door. Curling myself into a ball, I listen to the voices and know it’s Alessandro and Enzo arguing.
