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I send him a text.
Pray for me, Father, for I have sinned. I wanted to come for confession, but I had to leave town.
I put the phone aside and put on the TV, letting it play mindlessly in the background as I wait for a reply, staring at nothing, my feet on the coffee table.
It doesn’t take long for the phone to ping. I picked it up, my heartbeat rising as I read the message.
Confession is the least of your problems. You left behind a broken heart.
“Don’t I know it. Make that two broken hearts.”
I put down the phone, close my eyes and sigh. Killing Tiziano might have been the knee jerk thing to do but I wish I had been cleverer with meting out my punishment. Something that would have made him suffer terribly without causing these repercussions for me.
Slow poisoning maybe. Or squeezing his balls until they burst.
I do not regret avenging Mark. But I wish Giada hadn’t been the casualty of my actions.
What can I do to fix it?
I wish I knew.
His reply comes way too fast. He could have at least tried to think about it for a few minutes.
Give me some time. I’m going to speak with her soon.
Okay, okay, that’s encouraging.
Can I call her? Tell her I am extremely sorry, and I will fix this somehow.
No, I will tell her. We’ll discuss how the two of you can be reunited.
Thank you, Father.
I put my phone aside, curling up on the seat just staring at nothing. I feel like my life as I know it is over. I need a new paradigm, a new way of being. The old way doesn’t work anymore.
I’m a married man now. I need to start behaving like one. I shoot to my feet and go to my suitcase. It is a new one, and so are the clothes I packed in it. Everything I have is new. I check out of the Airbnb. I’m going back to New York. I might have to stay out of sight for a while, but running away isn’t going to solve anything.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
My parents decide to host a party in order to celebrate my safe return but really, to get my engagement back on track. They have to let everybody know that the wedding is still going ahead lest… I don’t know… someone else tries to snatch him up?
My mother has brought me a dress to wear. It’s way too short and way too pink. It’s also satin. Not my style at all. Honestly if you wanted a trifecta of looks I don’t like, you can’t get more accurate than that. Since I don’t really care anyway, I just put the dress on, pulling it down uncomfortably as I stare at myself in the mirror.
I look exactly the way I expected. The bright pink contrasts awfully with my skin, making it look pasty and unhealthy. My hair is greasier than normal or at least so it looks to me. But I can’t even be bothered to try and do something about it.
’Fanculo.
I whirl around and march out of my room. “Whatever,” I murmur to myself as my hips sway from side to side. I have on black stilettos, very uncomfortable, and perfect with the rest of my outfit.
I run into my mother at the staircase, and her eyes light up with delight. “Ohh, look at my baby. You look lovely.” She puts her hands on my hips, shaking me a little.
I want to frown really hard and push her away but instead I smile and let her manhandle me. She takes my arm, and we walk down the stairs together. She’s wearing a green gown that would look appropriate on a Miss World contestant - all shiny material and sequins in moss green.
Her hair, just as dark as mine, is tied up in a beehive atop her head and she is wearing an actual diamond tiara.
“Hello Princess Diana.” I murmur, with a slight smile.
“What?” she leans towards me inquisitively.
