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“Nothing worthwhile ever is. How do we make it happen?”
FOURTEEN
KELLY
* * *
It felt strange going to sleep last night without Ricardo by my side. I resisted trying to call mom. I don’t want to give things away while he’s trying to deal with it all. So I went to bed without speaking to anyone.
Settling down to sleep on my own used to feel normal. Every night and every morning for years I’ve been alone in bed. I never had a problem with it. Now, all of a sudden, half the bed feels empty. It’s not just the warmth of him, or the slow breathing when he settles into a really deep sleep. It’s his sheer presence.
Every single time I stirred, I knew he was there. I felt safe. I never realized how good that could feel, knowing he would protect me in a heartbeat if anything happened.
I was starting to think maybe that’s what love is, a feeling of security, of comfort. That and being yourself. I was more me around him than I’d ever been before. He brought things out of me that I didn’t even know were in there.
Only now he’s gone and I’m alone. He wouldn’t let me go with him. I’ve no idea if my father is dying or not. The last time we talked, we argued. Will I ever get to talk to him again?
I wake up this morning in a bed made for two. The other pillow isn’t dented. He’s not here. I’m alone.
I feel groggy. I didn’t sleep well. I ended up walking around the house in the middle of the night, making sure all the windows and doors were locked. With the shutters across, the place is dark apart from a few slivers of light getting in from the morning sun outside.
I open the bedroom window and the shutters so I can look out into the street below. I can hear Giancarlo humming to himself in his cafe. There’s a light rumble of traffic, the morning beginning like every other.
It’s different for me though. I’m here alone, trying to get by without him. I check my cellphone but he hasn’t called. I want to ring him, see what’s going on. I dare not do it when he told me not to. I haven’t tried deliberately disobeying him yet. I don’t dare.
He scares and excites me in equal measure. Sometimes I think the two feelings are the same thing, like either side of a single coin. Could it work, being with him?
I still don’t know the answer. I’m not happy about the fact he’s gone back to the States without me. I’m furious that my father has been hurt because of all this. I’ve no doubt it’s my fault, at the bottom of it all. If I’d turned Ricardo down when we first met, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t be a killer. My father wouldn’t have been shot. I’d be back home. Broke but home.
Wouldn’t be pregnant either.
I go to the bathroom and while I’m in there, my cellphone rings. I pick it up. It’s mom.
“Hey,” I say, trying not to sound like I know what’s happened in case Colombo’s people are listening. “How are you?”
“Honey, I don’t know how to tell you this but your father’s been shot. I’m here in the hospital with him. Where are you?”
“Oh my God.” I hope that sounds convincing. “Is he going to be all right?”
“The doctors are hopeful. He’s asleep at the minute. Has been most of the night.”
“I’m so sorry, Mom. What happened?”
“He told me he was going for a hike but he went to see Don Colombo. I don’t know why but the Don shot him. Why would he do that? Your father never hurt anyone.”
He did it because of me, I think to myself. I’m the reason he’s in hospital. Because of my selfish desires and an inability to think clearly, he’s got a gunshot wound. All my fault.
“Your husband called in last night,” she continues and I sit bolt upright. If there is someone listening to this call, Ricardo might be in trouble.
“Did he?” I ask, trying to sound surprised. “You sure it wasn’t someone else?”
“It was definitely him. Your father was so angry with him. I’ve not seen him like that for years.”
“Angry how?”
“Told him he should break up with you. Said he wasn’t fit to marry you. That you deserve someone better.”
“Maybe he’s right.”
