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My fist connected with the shower wall making the granite crack under pressure. I needed her now more than ever, for only Grazia’s gentle touch could get me to the end of tonight with my mind still intact.
Knowing there wasn’t anything I could do right now, I got dressed ready to go downstairs. If I’d call, she probably won’t answer and I couldn’t leave my father in his last moments to go hunt Grazi down.
At the end of the stairwell, I found Pietro and Chiara waiting for me. She came straight to me.
“Totto called us. He said we should be here.”
“Yes.”
“How bad is it?”
“The doctor doesn’t think he’ll make it through the night. All we can do now is keep him comfortable and wait.” Mindlessly, I hugged her tighter, grateful for the comfort. “Where’s Francesco?”
“With the nanny. You don’t look very well, Salvatore. Have you eaten anything?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You still have to eat something. I’ve brought some soup. I’ll go get you some.”
“Chiara…”
“I won’t take no for an answer. Now more than ever we need to look after one another.” It was the last thing she said before aiming for the kitchen leaving me with Pietro.
“She’s right, you know.” Pietro said. “We’re here to look after you as much as we are for Adrian.”
“I don’t need looking after!” I roared, knowing damn well he didn’t deserve to be yelled at.
“Then what do you need?”
I needed my father not to die so young. I needed more time. I needed Grazia here with me, but I couldn’t have any of it. I didn’t have to say the words, Pietro knew what I was thinking.
“Nothing you can give me, cousin.”
He grabbed my shoulder in an encouraging gesture. “Go sit with your father, Salvatore. I have everything under control.”
“Right. People will call and have questions, but don’t say a word until he’s gone. I don’t want anyone else coming here.”
“I won’t.”
I turned and walked to the room in the back, the one that used to be a study, but for the past year has become my father’s bedroom. I didn’t want him to go up and down the stairs every time he needed something, so the best solution was to move him here, close to Totto’s quarters.
Father was on his back with his eyes closed, but his chest was still moving. He was still here. He didn’t react when I opened the door, but he mumbled something when he heard me sitting in the chair next to him.
“Don’t try to talk, old man. Keep your strength.”
In typical Adrian Fiori fashion, he didn’t listen, but instead he scrambled to push the oxygen mask down.
“I’m not so old, son.” His voice was just above the sound of a whisper.
“Put the mask back on.”
“Why? I’m dying anyway.” Hearing it from him was like a punch in the gut. “I know it’s coming and so do you. You’re ready for this, son.”
“What if I’m not?” How could I be? He was my father, the best man I’ve ever known.
“You have to be.”
Chapter 12
