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I scrub myself as thoroughly as I can with the towel and soap before covering myself with the blanket. Sitting on the bed, I shiver, caught in a curious kind of inertia, until there’s a knock on the door. I stiffen, scrambling off the bed and heading towards the bathroom. I know that bathroom door has a lock. I run into it, and lock the door, before crouching down low, trembling like a leaf.
The door to the room opens, and footsteps approach.
There’s a gentle knock on the door. “Gigi? Are you in there?”
I leap to my feet, scrambling for the lock. “Mamma!”
I open the door and leap into her arms, blanket, and all, not even caring about getting her wet. She holds me uncertainly as I tremble in her arms, sighing with relief.
“Mamma, I want to go home.” I whimper.
She moves away, looking me up and down. “What’s wrong dear? Patrizio said you had some sort of accident?”
I sob, “Accident? He sexually assaulted memamma…”
She frowns, looking concerned. “Why are you saying that?”
“Because it’s truemamma! That’s what happened.”
She sighs, reaching for me. “Come on, let’s get you home. Can you get dressed?”
I nod. “But I don’t want to wear that dress again. Can you bring me my coat?”
She gives me another look before nodding and heading for the door. I quickly wear my bra and panties, before wrapping myself back in a blanket. My mother doesn’t take long. Soon she’s back with my coat and I wear it over my undies, buttoning it securely until the throat.
We leave quietly, thankfully without anyone witnessing it. “What aboutPapà?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “Pablo will go back for him later. I told him we were leaving.”
“Oh.” I bite my bottom lip, frowning, “Did you tell him what Patrizio did to me?”
My mother gives me a sidelong glance before patting my hand. “We’ll talk about it at home.”
I subside after that, so relieved to be getting away from Patrizio and his machinations that I don’t think too hard about any of it. The need to see Father Lorenzo is pressing. He needs to get a message to Romano so that my husband can get me out of here.
If I never see Patrizio again, it’ll be too soon.
As soon as we arrive home, I run to my room to have another shower and change out of my underwear. I can still feel Patrizio’s hands on me. My nipple still throbs from where he pinched it. The flesh of my bosom has bite marks on it. My throat feels abused.
I brush my teeth for what feels like an hour.
Climbing naked into my bed, I lie with the blankets completely covering me and try to chart a way forward. I’m obviously traumatized, which means I need to take some time to deal with what has happened to me.
I still shiver now and then, just remembering it. I can’t seem to get warm so I put on some thermal underwear, socks, and a long-sleeved shirt before reentering my blanket fort.
It’s only marginally better.
Maybe I’m suffering from shock.
I shut my eyes, really wanting to drift off but I just can’t sleep.
Flashbacks of what happened keep assaulting me, my breath hitching with tears that won’t fall. The reality of being sexually assaulted has my hands shaking and my heart beating way too fast. What I wouldn’t give to have Romano with me right now. None of this would have happened if he had been here with me.
I’m mad at him. He put us in this impossible situation and then left me alone to deal with it.
Picking up the wooden ornament that usually sits on my bedside table, I fling it across the room in anger. It falls soundlessly and harmlessly on the carpeted floor as I sit in my bed, bosom heaving, face red with anger.
“Fuck you and the horse you rode in on,” I growl.
