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I slept at Alf and Sofia’s last night in their spare room and practically cried myself to sleep. This isn’t like me. I grew up in a tough family and was built to weather any storm. I have seen death, destruction, pain and torture. I have seen blood, guns, drugs, and stitched up more men than I can count. But the hurt I feel now is something new. Because although I have seen a lot, my heart was never involved.
I was never emotionally connected to any of the things my papa has done. I was always on autopilot, going through the motions. Being a good mob daughter, never asking questions, never getting too involved. But I am all in with Marco, and I am not even sure how it happened. One moment, I was taking some quiet time at the park and then when my eyes connected with his after Prince jumped on me, it was like a switch had been flicked, and for the first time in my life, my heart pumped and my body came alive.
When Marco and I were together at my place, we couldn’t get enough of each other, and aside from seeing Sebastian last night, Marco has been the only thing on my mind for these past few weeks. I am not sure how I can go back to not being with him. I don’t even know how that is going to be possible.
As I lie in bed waking from my slumber, I contemplate how I am going to do it. How I am going to tell him that whatever it is we have, this connection, this unwavering desire for each other, while it is wonderful and something I want, it just can’t be. I roll over and check my phone. I haven’t received any text or call from Marco, and my heart drops.
I should have stayed away from him, the pain of leaving him now that I know him, is excruciating. I should have just kept right away from him. I should never have given him my address or my cell number. I was stupid.
I quickly and silently get changed and gather my things before walking out into the kitchen. I am surprised to see Alf is sitting at the kitchen table with a coffee. I look at my watch, it is 6am and Sunday’s are usually his day off, so I thought for sure he would be sleeping.
He is fully showered and dressed, but the house is quiet. Sofia must still be sleeping, and for Alf to be awake and dressed by this hour on a Sunday, I begin to think he perhaps didn’t sleep at all.
“Ciao, Diletto,” he says, and I know by his tone that he wants to talk. I walk over to him, carrying my handbag in front of me like a shield of armor. I am trying to muster up the strength I need to be reprimanded again, but after Sebastian last night, I just don’t have the energy. I am drained. My body is weak, my mind is mush, my heart is broken.
“Ciao,” I say and sit next to him, a coffee already waiting for me on the table next to his. I guess working for the mob for decades does train you to have a sixth sense about things, and nothing can get past Alf.
“You know what you need to do,” he says as he takes a sip of his coffee, not looking at me. He is ensuring that I end things with Marco. Alf is upset with me, I know, and I feel bad for letting him down after everything he has done for me. Him and Sofia are really putting themselves on the line for me. Papa’s men came to the bar looking for me a few times when I first disappeared. But we haven’t seen them for months, so Alf felt that we were safe here. That they wouldn't be back. Until now. Things have changed now.
“Yes, Padrino,” I say solemnly. I don’t look at him because I feel like I have betrayed him, and I guess in a way I have. I have potentially put him right in the line of sight of papa, and if that happens, I very well could have blood on my hands. If anything happened to Alf or Sophia because of me, I don’t know how I could go on. It would break me.
“You are strong, Fifi. You won’t have to hide forever, but you will need to hide for a while longer. Let Marco go, and lock down again for the week until it all blows over. I will have Sofia bring over some pasta and other things for you later today so you don’t need to go out.”
I nod at his expectation. I don't want to be locked down again, but perhaps sitting at home for the week in my own self-pity and heartbreak will be a good thing. I can get it all out of my system and then pull my head up, straighten my spine, and get back to normal in a week's time.
I try to remain optimistic, but I know that it will take a lot longer than a week to get over the heartbreak of Marco Marshall. I am not sure I will ever be able to get over him.
I stand, kiss Alf on the cheek and sneak out the back door wanting to miss anyone that is out walking this early on a Sunday morning. I snake to my apartment through the backstreets, this time ensuring I am aware of my surroundings and that no one is rushing up behind me, because that is all I need, another mugger. I step up to my doorway, and I am about to open the lock when, like a magician appearing from thin air, Marco is beside me.
“We need to talk,” he says low and slow from over my shoulder. His voice hums through my body, and I ache for him.
“You can’t be here,” I hiss back, not wanting to make eye contact.
“But I am, baby. I want to see you,” he says as his hand comes up and connects with my lower back, his thumb rubbing gently.
“We can’t, you need to leave. Please, Marco?” I finally look at him, pleading with my eyes, which have now glassed over in unshed tears. I am not sure how much he knows, but it is clear that he knows something.
“It isn’t safe, for either of us, you need to go.” My voice breaks at the end of my sentence, and he looks just as pained as I feel. We are still looking at each other, stuck in the doorway of my apartment building and although the street is empty, deep down I know that someone is watching.
Most certainly, Sebastian’s people and God knows who else. With both of us standing out on the street, it is the most dangerous place for us to be. But I can’t let him up because if I do, I know that I won't be able to end it. And it needs to end. I can’t drag him into my mess of a life anymore.
Marco looks like he hasn’t slept at all; he is still wearing the same clothes he had on last night and we are a good pair because I am dressed in the same clothes from last night too. Although, as usual, Marco looks extremely fresh and well put together, his shirt is not even crinkled.
A tear deceives me and falls slowly down my cheek, and I hear Marco’s breath hitch.
“Baby?” he says, his voice pained as his hand comes to my face and he catches the tear with his thumb. “It’s okay, beautiful, it will be okay,” he says quietly, his head leaning closer to mine and our foreheads touch, both of us needing support.
I close my eyes and just feel the warmth he radiates. I want to cave in to my desires. I want to just lean on him, get his support, and be together, but I can’t. I just can’t do that to him. Taking a deep breath, my eyes flick open and meet his again.
“No. It’s not,” I say back to him quietly. “Marco, it's not going to be okay. No matter what we want, we can’t have each other.” I move my hand and place it against his cheek, wanting to feel him for the last time. “I’m sorry, but we can’t...” my voice breaks because I don’t want to say the words.
“Don’t,” he warns. “Don’t say that, baby.” He leans in further and takes my lips in his, and I let him. I let him kiss me because it will be the last time. The last time I feel true love in my heart, the last time I feel what it is like to be kissed by the man who is in my dreams at night and my thoughts during the day. The last time that I will ever feel this, because no matter if I stay away from papa or if he finds me, I will never be allowed to have Marco. We just can’t be together, not in this lifetime.
“Let’s go inside and talk?” he whispers, his mouth less than an inch from mine. I am trying hard not to let another tear fall as I look at him. I try to memorize his face, his eyes, his lips, wanting to commit them all to memory because I know that I can’t see them again. His amazing smile, his strong jaw, his piercing blue eyes that are currently searching my face as though it will give him the answers he needs right now.
I shake my head. “I can’t, Marco, you need to leave.”
“Jesus, Frankie, I can’t leave you. I want you. I want to be with you.”
