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I’d never considered that Rita might have killed herself. When I thought about the kids maybe finding this out one day, my heart broke for them.
But would it be better for them to think that their father killed their mom? I really didn’t think so. Lorenzo would have to tell them the truth when they were older, but I didn’t know what his thoughts were on this, and his revelations tonight were still too raw to discuss this.
What I did know, however, was that I felt closer to Lorenzo now that he’d finally confided in me what had happened to Rita. It also helped me to understand his fierce overprotectiveness, particularly when it came to Clara and Clemente—in his own way, he was trying to protect them.
I felt unsettled after everything that I’d learned today.
But I was sure of one thing: now that Lorenzo had shown his trust in me, I was willing to put everything into making this marriage succeed.
When Lorenzo came to bed later that night, he took me into his arms and kissed me hard. I could tell that he was still angry at me after what had happened today, but also behind his kiss was raw passion.
And I knew that this marriage was worth fighting for.
CHAPTER 41
ANNUNCIATA
During the weeks that followed, I felt closer to Lorenzo after he’d confided in me about what had happened with Rita.
Lorenzo had finally agreed that we should take Clara to see a speech therapist. The therapist saw Clara once a week, and in between that, I worked with Clara, using the new techniques the therapist had shown me.
One weekend, I was about to go into the den when I heard Lorenzo talking to Clara.
“Dadda,” he said. “Just try to say it.”
I peeked around the door and saw Clara looking at her father with her big brown eyes.
“Dad-da,” he said more slowly. “Just repeat after me.” He paused, then carried on in a quiet voice, “You used to say it all the time.”
I knew it hurt him that she still didn’t say it.
Clara had recently started calling her brother ‘Clem’, but so far she hadn’t even attempted to say Dad or Dadda. Whenever she wanted to get his attention, she would tug gently on his sleeve, and each time she did that and reminded Lorenzo of her speech issues, I would see the pain in his eyes.
Even though Dadda was such a small word, after what Lorenzo had told me about his wife’s suicide, I could see how much he needed to feel love from the kids. Clara saying Dadda would mean so much to him after all they’d been through.
Every though she was having professional input now, I could still see how much Clara struggled at times, and how upset she would get when she couldn’t express herself. If she could deal with and process her grief better, I reckoned that would help her anxiety and thus help her speech.
That night, in bed, I turned to Lorenzo.
My voice was tentative. “Lorenzo, I know the children didn’t go to Rita’s funeral, but do they ever visit her grave at the cemetery?”
“No.” His answer was short and abrupt. But I didn’t let that put me off.
“I think it would help the kids, especially Clara, if they could see where their mom is and perhaps even talk to her—”
“The answer’s no,” he snapped. “And this conversation is over.”
I knew him well enough by now to know that he wasn’t going to budge in his view, so I let it go for now.
***
A couple of days later, after showering, I dressed in denim overalls and a striped tee, and then made my way down to breakfast.
The children had spent the previous night at Cosima’s house, and I was going to bring them home after lunch. Their grandmother loved spending time with the children, and they were great company for her as she lived alone.
I’d just come out of the kitchen after checking on breakfast with Adelina, and as I walked toward the dining room, I sensed Lorenzo coming down the staircase.
Looking up at him, I stilled.
