Page 247 of Valentino

“Worse.” He gives me a sad smile and puts his hand on top of mine as it sits on the bar. “Let’s make it a triple?”

I nod, unable to push a word past my lips because just the feeling of his kind hand on mine feels like it might just bring me undone.

“You’ll be okay,” he tells me.

I nod. “I know.”

But it’s a lie, because this time…. I’m not so sure.

It’s just on dark when I pull up in my father’s driveway in Lake Como. I need to be here with him tonight…and I don’t even know why.

It’s not like he has a magical way with words that are going to be able to make me feel better. But my mother is here, this is where I feel closest to her. And she would make me feel better…she always did.

I collect my bags from the car and punch in the security code on the gate and make my way up the long garden path. I can hear the television going and smile as I walk in the front door. “Papa,” I call.

“Oh.” His face falls as he comes around the corner. “Valentino. Ragazzo mio, che ci fai qui? ” (Translation: My boy, what are you doing here?)

“Non posso fare visita a mio padre? ” (Translation: Can’t I visit my father?)

“Sì, sì. ” (Translation: Yes yes.)

He pulls me into a hug, and I kiss his forehead and instead of pulling out of the hug, we both hold harder, and for a long time we stay in each other’s arms, it’s like I can feel his pain and he can feel mine. We’re both having a bad day.

But we never talk about things like that, we pretend to be stoic and brave.

Even to each other.

Eventually he pulls out of my arms and wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “Vieni, ti preparo la cena. ” (Translation: Come, let me make you dinner.)

We walk into the kitchen, and I sit down at the table, he pours us both a glass of his favorite vino and I sit and quietly watch him cook for us.

I’m not hungry, and the dishes in the sink tell me he’d already eaten. But he’ll pretend that he needs to cook, and I’ll pretend that I need to eat.

And we’ll both pretend that our entire worlds aren’t collapsing without my mother’s love.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

In slow motion I push open the door and through the glass shower screen lock eyes with Carlo.

Anna’s legs are around his waist, and he’s buried deep inside of her.

No….

The room is steamy and now lit with a red glow. Anna’s moaning, sliding up and down on his cock, too lost in the moment to notice me.

No….

Thump….

Thump….

Thump…goes my heart.

This can’t be….

The red fog swirls, and in slow motion, Carlo winks with a sarcastic smile.

Something snaps, a cord of sanity finally breaks, and I walk into the shower, and I take my gun and hold the barrel at Carlo’s temple…and I fire.