Misunderstood
E L E O N O R A ' S P O V :
What is wrong with me?
I can't stop crying. I feel pathetic, annoying. I just.. can't stop. And I don't know why I can't.
When he grabbed me in his arms, I felt so safe that I couldn't stop myself from breaking down right then and there.
"I know baby." Papà hushes me. That only makes it worse. "You're okay." Well fuck. I'm never going to stop crying now.
I was already on edge then he touched me and I couldn't hold back. When he started speaking so softly to me, I became five-years-old again. Naïve and innocent.
It takes me a solid five or more minutes for my breathing to finally catch. I hiccup a response, "I'm so sorry." I am. I really am.
"Why?"
I let out a cackle. "Why?" I croak out.
"Yes. Why? You did nothing wrong."
His face is so utterly serious.
"Papà." I rasp out with my jaw slacked. "I tried to kill.. well my cousin."
"We both know what wasn't your choice." His warm, comforting hands cup my cheeks. I can't but lean into his touch. "Do not blame yourself."
I can't help but throw my arms around papà. My heart explodes. I haven't felt this much love in so fucking long.
I dig my head into his neck and papà rubs up and down my back. Papà mumbles sweet words to me, slowly rocking me back and forth, hushing me like I'm still a little girl.
"I love you papà." I confess.
My heart beats a thousand times in only a second.
A gentle kiss is placed o top of my head.
"I love you more than you could ever imagine, Ellie."
Soon, I feel myself drift off from the exhaustion, the stress my body has been under. Soon I fall asleep in my papà's arms.
• • •
The sun creaks through the window. I'm blinded by it for a moment. I groan, getting up.
I hate mornings.
"Buongiorno, piccolina."
I turn my head to him with a tired smile, I stretch my oddly sore limbs. Papà sits in the chair beside my bed, closing his computer, setting it to the side.
"Good morning."
"I think America stole my baby's voice." He jokes because my accent isn't as strong anymore.
"Fine." I playfully roll my eyes. "Buongiorno, papà." I say it in a playful tone, exaggerating my words.
He chuckles. "Perfetta." Papà says with a smile.
I rub the sleep out of my eyes. "What time is it?"
"Four in the afternoon."
Well then I guess I don't hate mornings. I just hate waking up.
I flop my arms on the bed and my stomach grumbles loudly. I press my lips together.
"Hungry, sì?" I ignore papà's smirk.
"A little." I mumble.
"Let's go home, Ellie."
I slightly cringe at his name for me. It's still weird to be called Ellie again. I've been someone else for so long. I'm not sure if I can be the Ellie he wants me to be. Everything is so different now.
I feel like I haven't had a home in forever. I've always been worried someone was going to find me or try to kill me.
Papà ends up carrying me to the car. He refused my wishes to walk.
He said my friends are staying at nonno's house and are there now. Papà sent everyone home so I don't get overwhelmed.
"Thanks." I breathe out.
He opens the door for me.
"Of course." Papà replies with a smile.
We sit in a deafening silence. It's not awkward but it's like neither of us know what to say.
After a minute or two, I can't help the words that come falling off of my tongue. "You're not mad at me?" I have to make sure.
I meet papà's eyes. "No. I could never be."
"So if I dyed all your white shirts pink you wouldn't be mad?" I joke to fill the silence.
A humorous smile just barely lifts his lips.
"Never."
We reach home in twenty minutes. I spent most of the time watching the trees through the window, catching up on the sights I've missed. Papà and I talk some more, joking around with each other.
When we reach home I can't help but feel like this is the first time I've walked in here in nine years.
I know I've been in here before but that didn't feel real. I was being told what to do, controlled. Now, I'm here by my own free will. Ish.
"Hey! Stop that." Papà grumbles at me, walking quickly to my side of the car.
"What?" I say quickly. What's wrong? Did I do something?
"I open your car doors. I am your papà. Stop that."
"Oh." I can't help but let out a short laugh.
"Ai! It's not funny." He tells me with a short smile, shutting my door for me. I can't help but squeal when her picks me up and carries me like I'm a newborn baby.
"Papà! I don't need carried!"
"Hush you little devil."
He sets me down once we reach the top of the stairs and he holds the door open for me to walk inside.
It feels good to have someone looking out for me. I like it, I do.. I just don't know how to accept it. I've always done everything for myself. It's a weird adjustment but I'll get used to it. I think.
"So what we're you thinking for food?" He takes me to the kitchen.
"Anything is fine." I shrug.
"I asked a question, I expect an answer. As an Armani, you have to know what you want, no apologies. What do you want to eat?"
Alright. Answer with no apologies. I can figure out what I want. It's not that hard.
I sigh deeply and think. I hop onto a seat and lay my head in my hands. "Umm..," I hear papà chuckle lowly. "Uh..."
Papà pulls out a water from the fridge and slides it to me. I catch it.
Hm. A glass water bottle.
Sometimes I forget how rich papà really is.
"Chicken tacos." I finally decide.
"Ah, have you stopped in Mexico before?"
"No, just the half-rundown Mexican restaurant on the street corner."
Papà doesn't say anything else. I watch him get everything together. I think he forgot for a moment where I've been for the past few years.
I wonder how I'm going to tell papà. Here, in front of him, I understand that I can't keep everything from him forever. One day it will all come out. I'm scared papà will just never see me the same if it does.
The doorbell rings.
"I'll get it—"
"No." Papà is quick to say. He sets his utensils down.
"I know how to open a door, papà." I joke.
Someone sets off the doorbell again.
Something shifts through papà's eyes. "Why don't you start cutting this, sì? I'll be right back." He gives me a tight smile and walks off to the door.
I lick my dry lips as I watch him leave the kitchen. I guess I underestimated how protective papà will be now that I'm home. He's scared we're going to lose each other again, I am too. Though, I can't be contained, it's going to get annoying really fast if he won't let me do the simplest of things. For now, I'll wait to see if he backs off eventually.
My head whips around when I hear something smash to the floor.
I turn around, the knife in my hand and stop when my eyes meet hers.
Well shit.
"Don't worry, papà's just a little angry."
I don't say anything back. My hand squeezes on the knife. This is a bit awkward.
"I can see that." I reply.
"So, you're not going to say sorry?"
I think of what papà told me earlier. "It wasn't my fault. I didn't want to do it." I exhaled deeply.
She scoffed. "Of course it wasn't."
An Armani is a complete bitch. I think zio Fabio has spoiled her a little too much.
She has every right to be upset but both her and zio Fabio know it was not my intention. I was fighting for my own life. For my friends lives.
An takes a step closer to me. We're about the same height, she's just a tiny bit shorter. I think she's a year younger than me. She looks pissed. An's eyes narrow at me as she takes another step closer. She looks at the knife still in my hands.
"What? Trying to kill me again?"
My eyes roll, I set down my knife. "No. I was cutting a tomato."
I hear faint arguing from the other room. Guilt starts to consume me. I walk pass An to get to papà. I don't want him fighting with his own brother because of me. I don't want to hurt anyone here.
"I wouldn't get in the middle of that if I were you." I ignore An's comment. "Maybe you'd know that if you were actually here the past ten years but you weren't." I stop in my tracks. "You have to realize that I've been here much longer than you have. They love me, they love my brother and our cousins but they don't even know who the fuck you are." I swallow the thickness in my throat.
I turn around, locking eyes with her. "But I was here first. Don't forget that." Her eyes ignite, looking utterly pissed off. I walk away.
Under my confident words, I know she's right. They have no idea who I am. My family has no reason to trust me.
I walk into the front entrance where zio Fabio is red faced, arguing with papà. There's a broken vase on the floor. Papà looks ridiculously lethal.
I stand there for a few seconds listening until I hear zio Fabio shout at papà. "You have no idea who that girl is! I'm sorry, Val, but I'm not letting my family around her if she's trying to kill my daughter!"
Papà tries to fire something back but I interrupt their fight. "He's right papà." I say. Papà's head snaps towards me. Zio Fabio's face becomes much more regretful.
"Ellie—"
"No. I'll. . . I'll explain. I'll explain everything."
"You don't have to do that." Papà sighs, his eyes full of the truth.
"None of you know who I am. Let me tell you. You can ask me anything. I swear."
With nerves digging into my chest, papà's eyes soften. His head nods slowly.
• • •
"Don't feel pressured Ellie. Start whenever you're ready—"
"That night," papà shuts up, settling back. "After Bianca took you away." I sigh, pushing everything down so I don't throw it all up.
Papà is here, so is nonno. My zii too. All four of them. I told papà to get them, I don't want to repeat my story a billion times.
My foot bounces up and down.
Focus. No one actually gives a shit.
"William Guidi was the only one left with me." My brain takes me back to the night, clear as day. "He was a spy for Ivan Moscow but then was stuck with Bianca after she killed Ivan." My heart is racing.
"How do you know about Ivan?" Zio Mar is first to ask me in shock.
"You think I'd never once ask myself why? Who? I spent a long time trying to figure out why it was me. Out of everyone in the fucking world. It was my life that got ruined."
Maybe I shouldn't have cured but I didn't even realize I was going to say it until it came out of my mouth. Oops.
"You're right." Zio Mar mumbles and apologizes.
I ignore his comment.
"He tried to kill me. Shoot me. His mistake is that John was not dead yet." I look at the wall, the pictures, the decore. I want to distract myself. "John saved me. He killed William but there was no saving him. John had already been half dead." I clear my throat to cover up the crack in my voice. "He knew they were going to come for me. He told me to run. So, I ran.. and I didn't look back."
"Ellie— are you okay?"
I look to papà. I didn't even realize I stopped my story. I give him a short nod and a small fake smile to show I'm fine.
Focus. Focus, Ellie.
To be completely honest, I've avoided this talk my entire life. I now am brought to remember that I have never told another living soul about what happened that night.
"I ran into town. Ran into a tourist, an American. She tried to give me to the police stations because I wouldn't talk. Though, she didn't speak a lick of Italian. She took me back to America. Don't ask me how she got through customs— I have no idea. Most of those two weeks were blurred. I was put in the foster system but no one wanted be because I didn't talk. I was put into a home for girls."
I don't mention the fine lines between what happened at each place. The hell isn't theirs to bare. It's my trauma, not theirs.
"When I started talking, that's when they wanted me. If I could talk, I could take orders." My mind follows back to the last home I'd ever been in. Fuck, I hated that place. "I met Devin and Naomi when I was about ten. We lived on the streets together for awhile. I told them I was looking for my dad, they promised to help me because hell.. we had nothing else to live for. We met Rowan, he joined us. I spend five years finding you." I tell papà, tears finally burrowing in my eyes.
I sniffle my emotions in. I want this to be done and over with. Luckily, I'm at the end of my story.
"And then.. I did. I dug into a security camera at an high class hotel and practically stalked the son of Oisin Walsh, Cormac. He spilled where the next Ball would be and I started collecting my money for a plane ticket."
Red sirens could be seen flashing in all of their eyes. I basically just confirmed I know of the mafia and almost everyone important in it. Oops. I'm sure they already had their theory's anyways.
"I came back after work one day and all my friends were gone. It took four minutes before a chloroform rag was against my mouth. I woke up in an alleyway and directions preset on my phone. That stupid little robot in my head wouldn't shut up until it made sure I was going to find you. I didn't even know I was in Italy until I saw you, papà."
Much to my dislike, a tear fell from my eye. I couldn't look any of them in the eyes.
Just finish the story.
"I was told to find a flash drive in papà's office. I couldn't find it so the robot told me to go to nonno's house and do the same. I guess when it heard An talking to me, they thought my cover was blown. They told me to kill her. If I didn't, they would have killed my friends and killed me. I'm sorry I fucked with your feelings but I'd do the same thing again. I would. I had to do it." Papà hugs me close to him as I cry reluctantly. I just want this all to be over.
Zio Fabio's head snaps towards me.
I wish I could lie but I can't. I'd do anything to save my friends.
"Listen, I'm not a spy, I'm not out to get you." I avoid eye contact. "I just want to come home and literally everyone on the damn planet has tried to stop me from doing so. I can't promise that if it's my friends lives against someone I've know for two minutes, I'm not going to choose my friends because I'm going to. They've always had my back, I'd never not have theirs. But I don't want to hurt anyone." I have to bury my head with in my hands.
"Okay, I think we're done here." Papà gets up, wiping his pants with his hands.
I wipe the tears that were cascading down my cheeks. I'm disappointed I let my emotions loose. They shouldn't see me like this.
"Wait—," zio Mar tries but papà shuts it down.
"Get out. You've heard what you've all wanted to hear, now get the fuck out!"
Papà fights them a little more before we're just left with me and him. He walks to me and sits beside me on the couch. I hide my face from him. Papà sets his hand on my upper back and I squeeze my want to sob back in.
I just wanted to come home. Why is the world out to get me?
"I'm sorry." Papà whispers, bringing my head to lay on his chest. He whispers it again and again. "I never wanted our lives to be like this."
He squeezes me hard and I quietly cry into his chest. I let my body press against him.
"You're not mad at me?" I rasp put, brushing my hair out of my eyes.
Papà looks to me softly. "Never."
"Really?"
"How could I be mad?" He smiles at me, his fingers brush my cheek. "I am proud you protected your famiglia. Those friends are very lucky to have you."
Papà wipes the rest of my tears. I give him a teary smile.
"You won't leave me again.. right?"
Papà swallows hard. "Right."
• • •