Page 97 of No Greater Oblivion

“Does he fuck you hard enough to rearrange not only your insides but the few braincells you have left too? What the Hell is the matter with you!” She scoffs under her breath. “Nice…che cazzo dici? Hai perso completamente il senno.”

When Lyss gets mad, she starts cursing in Italian and I never know what she’s saying. She gets it from her mom.

I rub my temples. “Lyss, please…”

“What do you expect me to do with this information? If not for the fact that I’m in a foreign country where your crazy criminal boyfriend might track me down, I’d call the police and have them drag your ass onto the next flight back home.” Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “You know what, I should’ve known. You always had a weird obsession with The Godfather movies, every time Nonno would put them on during Thanksgiving⁠—”

“All right, enough! Okay? Enough. Jesus,” I take a sip from my drink and try to steady my nerves. “If I told you it’s because I need the opinion of an objective third party.”

“Leave him. That’s my opinion as an objective third party.”

My entire body deflates. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I love him.”

Lyss les out a deep breath as she shakes her head. “Oh Dee…”

“This is a mess of my own making. He told me what life was going to be like and I was naïve enough to not believe him. I was blinded by the fantasy of being together and didn’t fully understand the reality of it. He didn’t bring me to Barcelona against my will. In fact, he sent me home to get away from all of this. I chose to come back.” Tears spring to my eyes and I fight to keep them at bay. “Look, I know it’s going to sound like I’m defending him and maybe I am. But try to understand. He didn’t wake up one day and choose this, he was born into it. Alejandro tried to find a way out but it got too dangerous and he had to stop.

“He’s a good man. It may not seem like it but he is. Despite his circumstances in life, he tries. He’s…he’s kind and he’s generous and he’s gentle. So gentle. With me and his siblings and the rest of his family. I know he isn’t perfect but I know he loves me. He’d do anything for me.”

She tilts her head at me, eyes turning yellow in the sunlight. “Then why do you want to leave him?”

“Because it isn’t enough. And I feel…so guilty. For wanting to leave knowing what he’s given me.” I press the heels of my palms into my eyes, hoping the pressure will alleviate the burn. “There’s something going on and he won’t tell me what it is. I can’t tell if this is a rough patch we’ll get through eventually or if what we had before was a honeymoon phase and this is my new reality. I’m terrified. The last thing I want to do is find myself trapped like⁠—”

“Your mother.” I drop my hands and Lyss’s features soften with sympathy. “Why don’t you try talking to him about it?”

“I’ve tried! But it’s so hard sometimes. He’s cold and aloof and he shuts everyone out. And it hurts. I hate feeling like I’m being rejected; it reminds me…”

Lyss finishes my train of thought. “It reminds you of your dad. And how it felt to be rejected by him when he left. I understand.”

I reach for a napkin and drag it against my damp cheeks. “There’s no need to bring up my parents.”

“Why not? When they’re at the root of all your problems?” She parries back. “You never properly processed your mother’s death and you never confronted your feelings about your father’s abandonment. Instead, you buried them so deep inside you that their seeds sprouted and blossomed into shadows who darken every aspect of your life.”

Feeling defensive I say, “I don’t even know why I told you.”

“Because you can’t hide how you feel from me. Not really. You needed someone from your old life to put things into perspective. And no one, not even Karina, knows you as well as I do.”

“Oh really? Then what am I thinking now?”

“You’re thinking we should finish this bottle, order another one, and get so drunk we remember what happened at my Sweet Sixteen.” She manages a small smile before saying, “But I think you should go home and talk to Alejandro. Because this is one problem I don’t think I can help you with.”

The sun has just begun to set by the time I get home.

Lettie and Doña Ana are in the kitchen preparing dinner which means Alejandro must be upstairs, either working in his office or in our room. I don’t have to go searching for him because I hear his voice drifting from an open door down the hall. He’s in our bedroom.

“Tienes que decirle…” He paces, pauses, resumes his pacing. “Sí, sí, yo te entiendo. Bueno, si ese es el caso entonces…”

The door creeks as I push it open, announcing my arrival. Damn snitch. I’ll have to oil those hinges later.

Alejandro spins around and upon seeing me, immediately cuts his conversation short. “Tengo que irme, luego hablamos.”

He drops his phone on the bed and I enter the room, setting my purse down on the nightstand. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You weren’t interrupting,” he says quickly. “You’re never interrupting.”