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She sighs while she scoots back on the bed, pulling me into her arms as we lay against the headboard, my head tucked underneath her chin.
“I will never push you, Lori, and I just hope you know that I will never force you into talking or doing something that you don’t want to do.” More tears fill my eyes because as much as I love the words coming from her mouth, I really would like to hear them coming from her son’s.
Rather than admitting this, I try to deflect and talk about something else.
“I’ve never had this, you know? Never had a woman hold me while I cried. My mother died when I was a toddler and I barely remember what her face looked like or the sound of her voice.” I sniff back my tears, turning my head to look at her blurry outline.
“I’ve always wondered what it felt like to have a mother hold me and comfort me, so thank you, Mariella. Thank you for providing me with solace at a time when you should hate me.” Her head tilts in confusion.
“Why should I hate you, Lori?” she asks, sounding genuinely confused.
“Your son does. Because even though I find it hard to believe, my father took your husband away from you, away from your child,” I say and she stiffens, her arms still wrapped around me as she stares down at me.
Eventually, her muscles ease and she sighs, resting her cheek against my head.
“What happened with my husband was a shock at the time, but it is not like I have never feared that it would happen,” she says quietly, her hand rubbing circles on my back again.
“I was born into this world just as you were Lori, and although I loved my husband, I was bound to marry him as well, meaning that my fate was sealed as soon as I was conceived. I knew he was a dangerous man and I knew that the families surrounding ours were equally as dangerous. It is like living in the wilderness. We are nothing but lions fighting for our territory, doing our best to survive in the world that we are born to navigate. And as a lioness, my job is to protect and to nurture. That is all I was brought here to do.” Her hand moves from my back to my hair.
“I have never hated your family, mostly because I was never allowed to know any details of what happened. Women in this world... we are kept in the dark. They say it’s for our safety, but I know it’s because there’s secrets. Secrets that would ultimately destroy us if we knew them. I forgave your father a long time ago, just as I had to forgive God for placing me into this world that does not want forgiveness.” My lips tremble as more tears threaten to fall.
How has this woman become so graceful? I know she’s experienced way more than I have, yet here I am, sobbing like a baby while she holds her head high and wears her grief like a medal of honor.
“My whole existence, I’ve tried to avoid being in this world that we’re in. I’ve always wanted a normal, happy life. The white picket fence and all of it. That’s why I’ve never been angry about my disability. In a way, it saved me. It allowed me to live away from the harshness of my family, because I’ve always been vulnerable, but now I... I feel silly for thinking that I’d be safe forever. That I was absolved of this darkness because I was different,” I whisper, closing my eyes as I sniff back the new tears and sit up in the bed, staring at her.
“Haven’t you ever wanted that? A normal life away from all of this pain and fear?” I ask, her hand moving to hold mine as she stares back at me.
“When I was young, yes. I wanted to go to college abroad and travel the world. I wanted all the things that you want now,” she admits, a tinge of sadness in her voice.
“So what happened then? Did you just stop wanting it? Or did reality get in the way?” I question.
She pauses for a moment, time passing as she holds my hand and breathes evenly before she looks up, her blurry face lifting in a soft smile.
“I got pregnant. As soon as my son came to me, those dreams didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was my child. I didn’t want the world for myself then, I wanted it all for him.” As soon as she mentions Marco, my heart sinks into my stomach.
For a moment, I let myself forget him. I let myself sink into the comfort of Mariella and completely disregarded the fact that it is her son that is causing me all this pain that I am feeling.
“But with that being said, I also knew as soon as I was pregnant with him, that his fate was sealed as well,” she says distantly, almost sounding… haunted.
“’I’ve told you that Marco was close to his father, that, prior to his death, he was a sweet boy. And while all of that is true, it is not the entirety of his story.” My need for more knowledge biting at my insides like a rat.
“What’s the entirety?” I ask, crossing my legs on the bed as our hands separate.
“I pretty much raised Marco by myself from birth until he was ten. While his father was present, he didn’t really care for the childhood stuff. Sure, he would go on vacations, teach him small things here and there, but in this family, it is not the man's job to raise the child. It is their job to raise a man. Almost like readying a soldier for battle when he is of age. As soon as Marco was able to hold a gun, he did. As soon as he hit puberty, he started working on the frontlines, learning this business from the inside out. It was at this point, that my job was done. I raised the boy and then his father took over to raise the man. Marco still loved me, but it was all about his father then. Fate took precedence over my happiness and wishes for him, and I couldn’t stand in the way of that.”
“I lost my boy then. Marco wasn’t as sweet or as soft, because he wasn’t allowed to be. He was to carry on his father’s legacy, to continue this family, and in that—there is no room for softness. As soon as he realized that, he gravitated towards his father more and more. Soon enough, I was nothing but the caregiver. I was the lioness that did her duty and was left to wander the wild until somebody needed me again,” her voice cracking.
I go to her then. I wrap my arms around the woman that has been nothing but kind to me, that has provided me comfort that I've needed long before I was brought here. And as I hold her, I think of her son. I think of a little dark-haired boy with glasses and a wide smile, picking flowers for his mom and helping her cook in the kitchen. I think of the boy that was forced to become a man, that was bred into a soldier before he could even know himself. Right then, my heart softens for the haunted man that walks these halls. Right then, I allow myself to feel for him and for the woman that made him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into her braided hair, her rose smell tickling my nostrils as she shakes her head and pulls back, her hands going to my face.
“It is not for you to feel sorry, Lori. I am not sad and I hold no resentment. I have accepted this life fully and take it for what it is. I hold my faith and my forgiveness close and that is all that I can do.” She wipes a stray tear from my eye.
“Is this something I should do as well? Accept my fate?” I mutter, fear creeping back inside of me.
She shakes her head at me, her hands leaving my face to rest in her lap.
“Your fate has not revealed itself yet, Lori. You still have time, regardless of what my son says or does. He is still hurting and hurt can make you say and do some awful things.” She pats my leg before she grabs the rope and nods at me sadly.
