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It brings me back to the question that has haunted me since the day Marcello brought me to his home. Do I really want this person to raise my children up from the age of five? I have no idea what kind of father he would be. The fact that I’m obsessed with him doesn’t speak to his ability to bring up two healthy, rational, respectful members of society. Marcello doesn’t even participate in proper society as is. What kind of life would my boys have?
On the one hand, Marcello’s money would be an absolute lifesaver for the boys and me. It wouldn’t be impossible for me to find a job after I get back from Italy.
IfI get back from Italy.
But it would also be incredibly beneficial for us to lean on Marcello’s wealth in order for me to spend more time with my boys. That’s all I’ve ever wanted since I had them, but I wasn’t allowed to entertain that choice.
But, when I think about how violent Marcello’s lifestyle is, I worry that we could be targeted by people that know of his past in the US. For someone with as much influence and notoriety as him, I’m certain that there are people in my city who would find out where he was and target us to blackmail him.
Every new hypothetical makes my head spin, and it hurts me deeply that these are even situations that I need to consider with Marcello. I knew that he couldn’t be there for his boys when they were born, and I was able to come to terms with it after I’d gotten over the initial shock and anger. Now, I might have to face the reality that it wouldn’t even be the best option to have him in their lives.
I want to believe that he meant what he said during our conversation last night. I would give anything to know that he wanted to make things right for the boys and me. But how can I possibly know for sure? There are men who spend their entire lives lying about their secret families. There are men who present the image of a perfect father and husband only to be revealed as irreverent cheaters years later. Having such a dark criminal past makes Marcello even harder to trust than the average man.
But when I look over at him, I see the face of a man who knows he’s made mistakes and wants to change. It’s not an expression I’ve seen on very many people, and I want to believe that it’s genuine. Ihaveto believe that it is. What would the world be without trust? What would it be without promises and unbroken bonds?
He promised me that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making it up to me. He’s willing to leave behind everything he has in order to be a part of his sons’ lives. What more could I possibly ask for? The fact that he’s their father is only half his fault. It’s alsomyfault, which means that I need to take the good with the bad.
It’s too easy for me to have reservations about him when I haven’t even given him the chance that he needs in order to prove himself. He has leadership skills that I’ve seen in action, and I know for a fact that he’s brave and has a good heart. There are so many qualities about him that I’ve never seen in other men I’ve dated. They were all lazy cowards, more likely to spend their entire paycheck on games and weed than bills.
Marcello has managed to build an amazing life for himself, a life I could never come anywhere close to providing for my boys. Having him around could be the difference between struggling and thriving. Am I going to be so selfish that I don’t even offer them that chance? How would they ever forgive me for that when they got older?
It would be one thing if I didn’t have such a strong, unbreakable connection with him. I’ve been with men before that were as forgettable as the next, never making more of an impression than someone I passed by at the gas station. I’ve spent enough time dating men that I didn’t like to know that I can’t let a bond like this be wasted.
The feelings I have for Marcello have persisted throughout the years that I spent with no contact with him at all. Despite all of the differences we’ve had while I’ve been staying with him, my infatuation has suffered minimal blows.
I’m taking that as a sign.
We’ll work on our issues when we get back to the States anyway. All couples have issues. They just might not be the result of a five-year separation or mafia involvement. Anything can be overcome by the power of love and hard work. At least, that’s what my mom has always told me.
Shit, I haven’t even thought about how I would present this information to my mom. She knows that Marcello exists, but all she knows about him is his name and his status as the father of my children. She has no idea how badly I’ve pined after him all these years, and I’m certain that if shedidknow, she would tell me right away that I was being foolish for letting him control my emotions so much.
It’s not like my parents have a perfect marriage either.
As I continue deliberating the worst-case scenario of every possible situation, I realize that the ceremony is finally complete. Since the whole thing was conducted in Italian, I was able to tune most of it out pretty easily.
“Hey, now where are we supposed to go? Did you find your guy?” I whisper to Marcello, who jumps a bit when I tap his arm.
“I haven’t spotted him yet, but I know he’s here. It’ll be easier to communicate with everyone else when we’re not supposed to be silent. That’s when I’m expecting to get his location. Just relax. Everything is going to be fine,” he assures me.
We’re prompted to rise from our seats to follow the procession out of the church. Watching all of these people walk past me and feeling their eyes on me makes my heart begin to race. Are they looking at me because they don’t recognize me? Does my wig look bad? Is my dress too revealing?
Or do they know that I’m an interloper?
Right before Marcello and I step out of our row together, I’m shocked to notice a familiar face towards the back of the line. At first, I can’t place where I know them from, but how the hell could I be so certain that I’ve seen them before?
Oh shit.
It’s one of my old coworkers.
All of the blood drains from my face. Of all the places that I should expect not to have to answer to someone, why here? My identity might be thinly veiled by my wig and contacts, but my facial features are unique enough for the right person to recognize me through them. If they happen to notice me, they might approach me and ask why I’m dressed the way I am.
As soon as we exit the auditorium, Marcello takes off after someone in the crowd.
He’s moving with purpose, but only I would know that from looking at him. To anyone else, he might just be a normal guy who takes himself a little too seriously. But he’s chasing someone, and that person is about to get brutally killed.
ChapterThirty-Three
MARCELLO
