When I walk away and get into the car, Zandor is standing in front of Sabato, protecting me, which is not necessary but appreciated.
The man named Thor comes to the vehicle, and I roll down the window. Leaning in, he asks that, if I ever change my mind and will come clean with anyone, that I call him, and he gives me a card. He tells me that there’s a lot at stake. He also tells me that he once loved my mother, and that she would be very proud of her Eroe, which is Italian for hero. He then hands me a picture of her. I can’t look at it, though, not yet, anyway.
He then tells me that Sabato is a good man, even though he comes off as a complete ass. And lastly, he tells me that, regardless of what I decide to do, he is family to me and for me in every sense of the word, whenever and if ever I am ready.
When Zandor gets in the car, he tells me he is proud of me.
When we get out of the car at the house, I tell him I am going to sleep and to let Tris know I will speak to her soon.
I lay in bed, staring at a photo of a women whose eyes were kind, who I could tell was good and who I know one day I could meet again.
He Loves Me Not…
Tris
“It’s wedding eve, much to do today, sleepyhead,” Brisa’s all too chipper voice brings me from my haze and the blinding sun as she pulls open the drapes, making me angry. The flowers surrounding me make me sad. But the reality that they will wither up and die, just like the love I thought I found, makes me sick.
He’s not here. Matteo left.
What the hell did I expect?
I pull the covers over my head. “He left. He’s not coming back because—”
She laughs. “Dad said he went to spend the day with his family and—”
Throwing the covers off, I bolt upright. “In Spain!”
She giggles. “They’re here, just down the road.”
I knew they would take him from me. I knew that, once he found out, he would pick them, and they would make him see he doesn’t need me. The double edge to that sword is that I also knew it’s what’s best for him. They would see that he’s okay.
But still I ask, “What family?”
“Two brothers, three nieces? Heard one of them is single and in the wedding party.” She flops on the bed. “I need to get laid, so hook a sister up?”
Unsure of what that means exactly, I scramble off the bed and look around the room. “I need my phone.” I dump my purse on the floor. “Where in the fuck is my phone?”
“You never charge your—”
“I need my damn phone, Brisa,” I cut her off, panicking.
She frowns. Hell, she looks like she may even cry. Do I feel bad? Yes, but that’s a normal as fuck feeling for me, because I am bad.
“Okay.” She nods as she gets off the bed. “We’ll find it, and then—”
“Where’s Dad or Mom? I need them.”
She opens a suitcase as I riffle through another. “Mom is here somewhere. Dad left earlier. Maybe he went to get a haircut? Speaking of … the seamstress will be here soon and—”
I feel it coming—the static. “I need you to leave.”
She forces a Disney princess smile as she carefully unpacks the bag. “But we have a spa day, and—”
“Brisa! Now!” I spot the charger and grab it, and then I see my phone. I hold it up as I stand. “Go.”
“Okay. I’m sorry, I just—”
“I’m an asshole, you know this. Just go.”
“You’re not—”
“Oh my God, Brisa, please get out!”
Walking out the door, she calls back, “While it’s charging, you should shower, so—”
“I’m not getting married, okay? I’m not and—”
“I knew it. I knew you’d realize this was too soon. I have a plan. Grab your shit and let’s run.”
“Get the hell out!” I yell as I plug the phone into the charger, and then the charger into the wall.
As soon as I do it, the place falls silent, and I hear people outside the room groan, and then Amias chuckles from somewhere and says, “Which one of you assholes forgot to use the adapter?”
I hurl my phone across the room. “I hate my fucking life!”
“I have a portable charger in my room, and someone will fix the short; they always do.”
“Brisa …” I sigh. “Just go.”
Defeated, I climb back into bed.
When the door opens again, I barely register it. But, when Brisa sets the phone down, now hooked up to her charger, I look up at her.
“Do you love him, Tris? Truly love him?”
I close my eyes, and she links her pinky with mine, like she did when we were younger and I would get anxious walking into school. Pinkies linked, she would tell me, “I’m here no matter where you are,” and I’d ask her, “No matter what?” Little did I know back then that I got so far away that no one could reach me. Except Matteo did, and now … now he’s gone.
“Fairy tales aren’t real.”
“But love is.”
I open my eyes and look at her. “What if you learn you need love and you like it, and then everything falls apart?”
She cocks her head to the side and smiles. “Then you put it back together by any means possible.”
“What if it’s too broken?” I whisper.
“Nothing is ever so broken that love can’t heal it.” Her pinky grips mine a little firmer. “No matter where.”
I can’t bring myself to reply, because I have found depths that I would never ask anyone to travel for me.
“Look at my girls,” Mom says as she enters the room.
I pull my pinky from Brisa’s, because it’s nothing but a lie, and sit up.
Mom smiles, and it’s one of her sad ones.
“Don’t.” I shake my head. “Just don’t, okay?”
“Could you give us a minute, Brisa?” Mom asks.
“Could you just give me the damn pill?”
“Oh God, Mom.” Brisa laughs as she slides off the bed and pops a kiss to Mom’s cheek. “Give her a party pill; do not Sixteen Candles her.”
Mom smiles at her. “I’ll give her whatever she needs. You go; the girls are waiting on you. The seamstress is starting with you first.”
“Don’t bother. I’m not getting married.” I hold out my hand, and Mom drops two pills into it.
“It’s all going to work out the way it’s meant to.” Mom hands me the bottle of water from the nightstand.
On her way out the door, Brisa calls back, “Remember, I can drive the getaway car if needs be.”
“Brisa,” Mom scolds her.
“I know.” Brisa rolls her eyes. “Brisa, go.”
“That’s not what—”
Mom stops when Brisa shuts the door, and I slide off the bed.
“Everything’s gonna be fine,” Mom calls to my back as I walk to the bathroom door.
“Yeah. I’m going to shower.”
~~~
I have come up with lyrics to entire songs while in the shower, so it shouldn’t surprise me that it brings on the solution to my problem.