Bleeding Sunset

Chapter 18

Looking at Alessandro right now- I knew that I didn’t know the man well enough. He was my father, but he wasn’t my dad. I can’t say that I never wished to meet the man who fathered me, but the men that my mother brought around me, simply lessened the desire to have meet the man. Because I figured that my father was probably a married man that ditched my mother after he found out about her pregnancy and I was not in the least bit interested in meeting a man like that. 

There was a look on Alessandro’s face, a look of…morbid dread, as though his world had come crumbling down all around him and there was absolutely nothing that he could to save it. I had felt that too, because once upon time- what feels like a whole lifetime ago, but was only months ago- it had been me when I had been clutching onto my mother’s deceased body, begging for her to come back because she was all that I had. I can’t describe the feeling in words because there are no words in the dictionary to describe what I had felt in that moment…however, as I looked at Alessandro right now, that expression on his face and the glassy look in his eyes...that was it. That was the emotion. 

Another part of me, the child part of me was happy to see that. Happy to see that my father could feel my pain. I had thought that with my mother’s passing there would be no one to be there for me, no one who will care for me and no one who will shed a tear for me. Looking back now, I wish I had made more effort for Alessandro and I. I wish that we had created the kind of father-daughter relationship that I saw on TV, or hell, the very one that he had with his two other daughters (my half-sisters). Maybe if I had made a little more effort and wasn’t so closed off or so depressed, I wouldn’t have found myself running straight into the arms of Agostino. 

I watched as Alessandro slowly buried his face in his hand, covering his face before he began to cry. He cried for me as though I were already dead and he was identifying my body or attending my funeral. His cries were the kind that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand, and the pipes of my throat to tighten around the ball that was forming. Tears stung the back of my eyes as I looked down at the heavy diamond ring around my finger, feeling as though I were carrying a curse. 

The home was deathly silent- a complete contrast to how it had been when I had walked in- before telling them that Agostino had asked me to marry him, and invited them to the wedding that was taking place first thing tomorrow morning. They all suddenly turned deathly pale, even 6 year old Matteo. Without a word, they all stood, in silence, and Gabriela wrapped her arms around her daughters and son who began to silently cry, and took them out of the living room and locked herself and the kids in her bedroom. Alessandro sat there for what felt like forever, before he stood and walked to the kitchen, kicking over the stools around the island and punching several kitchen cabinets before he leaned against the counter. 

“What have I done to deserve this?” he cried, shaking his head and removing his hand from his face as he looked up at the sky, as though directly speaking to God. “what have I done to deserve this?” his tone was full of heartbreak and despair, as though he were sincerely asking from the bottom of his heart. 

I shut my eyes, begging myself not to cry but it was futile because I realised what this meant. This was a death sentence, Agostino would never let me go. This was my journey towards my death, and my family would only prepare themselves for the funeral. My hands began to tremble and I wanted to take the ring off my finger, God knows I wanted to rip it off my finger and fling it as far as I could. Instead, I cried, “Alessandro, please…” I begged him, “please help me get out of this. I don’t know what to do. I need your help, please.” I pleaded in the kind of desperation a dying mother would in front of her child. 

I knew that there wasn’t much that he could do, or anything at all. But he was my father, he had to know something. He had to be able to get me out of this because everyone else is powerless. My father is the only man on this earth who should be able to fight tooth and nail for me, who should be able to stand for me. I begged him because he was the only person that I had left in the world that I could turn to. “I don’t know how,” he responded despondently. “I don’t know how to help you, Delaney, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.” He repeated hopelessly as he suddenly threw himself onto the large fridge and gripped onto the sides of it, pressing his forehead against it.