Your half-brother... your half-brother...
Julian's words resound in my ears preventing any other noise from coming through, like I'm sliding down a glass tunnel where I'm alone and still, I can see everything around me, for example, now I can see my brother moving his arms around and staring at me, shouting something I can't hear and shaking my body with hands strongly holding my arms, but I can't hear him. I don't know what he says, what he wants from me.
His eyes become wide open at some point and filled with horror when I don't seem to react either to his shouts or jogs and I have good reasons for that.
I'm blacking out. I gradually sink into an abyss where there is so much peace and quiet, I feel floating and my arms become limp and almost non-existent.
Raffa's beautiful face flashes in front of my eyes and I'm smiling. At least I think I am.
And then nothingness.
When I finally came around, Julian was hovering above me, softly calling my name and sprinkling water on my face.
The horror of his final words before I fainted swiftly made its space in my brain and every inch of my skin where Michelle has ever touched me is burning with disgust.
"Mia... can you hear me?" Julian asks gently.
"I wished I never did," I reply and push him away to sit up on the chair properly and I grab the water glass from his hand, drinking the cold content to the last drop.
"You'll check for a doctor when we get to Aunty," he decides as soon as I'm done with the water glass and I ask for one more.
"I'm fine, it's just... a lot has happened in the past days... too much news... too many..."
"Shocks! I know. I'm so sorry Mia..."
"What are you sorry for? Tell me?! Knowing that Raffa was alive and not telling me when you all saw the pain I was going through?! Not knowing who Michelle was before he got the chance to touch me... and kiss me..."
"Did more happen, Mia?" he asks.
"More than what?!"
"More than kissing and touching..."
"Fuck NO! Thank God, no! It's enough I'll have to live with the fact that my own God damn brother touched me..." I shout and I keep feeling like throwing up just by remembering all the evenings we had.
"Good. That's good," Julian mumbles.
"What the fuck it's good?! What, Julian? My life is ruined, I'm ruined! YOU! Because of you and Papa! Because you've all used me! All of you!"
"Emillia!" Julian shouts back at me standing up and trying to confidently deny everything I say.
"Don't you talk to me! Not you, not Papa, not Raffa! NO ONE!"
I demand and stand up running to the small bedroom-like space at the back of the airplane and lock the door behind me.
I won't see or speak to anyone before I reach Aunty, and long after I'll settle in.
And Raffa... I'm not sure yet what his role in this story is but he'll have to stay away too, although I doubt he will.
Papa promised to keep him away but now... how much can I trust Papa? Not because he is not trustful or he wouldn't move mountains for me but... he literally admires Raffa. He can't deny it, I've seen that in his eyes whenever he speaks about him.
This abomination of having been kissed and touched by someone who shares the same blood with me still crawls under my skin and doesn't seem to go away.
I throw my clothes away hoping that a shower will make me feel better but no. I get out of the shower just as tinted with shame as I've entered.
I need to cry but I can't. I need to shout but what's the use?! And Julian would break the door anyway.
I wish I could find a way to drop dead asleep, a coma or something but nothing comes into my mind other than a fine bottle of whiskey which I have to sneak in without Julian noticing.
Most probably he is on the other side of the door, giving me time to get over whatever tantrum I have and then be the hero when I get someone to hug me and pamper me.
Well, breaking news! Emillia is not a puppy anymore and nobody will order me around no more.
So I stand up with an unbreakable confidence and unlock the room's door, finding Julian sitting next to the door, just as I predicted, standing up muted by my stubbornness to ignore him and following me with his stare that I can feel at the back of my neck, while I enter the flight attendant's area and grab an unopened bottle of whiskey which I take with me, walking back into the room and past by Julian, ignoring him just the same.
"Oh, God, Mia..." he mumbles defeated when he sees the bottle in my hand but acts in no way that I have expected.
He took a seat back next to my door and said only:
"Mia, sweetie, I'm right here if you feel sick," he anticipated and I smiled.
I have good people in my life, is just right now, the world we live in has brought pain and sorrow lately.
I only need a time of distance and wounds mending to be able to move on. And then I'll pick up my life from wherever I've left it.
It took me three glasses of whiskey and two full hours of deep, loud cry to finally faint in a deep sleep which I was so grateful for.
I heard Julian calling my name through the door a few times asking me if I was alright but never forced his way in so, I ignored him and continued my show.
I was not very sure what hurt me the most, the fact that I found out by pure coincidence that Raffa was alive and well, the fact that I woke up in the middle of the Dons' war where I was just about to marry my half-brother or the fact that my love for Raffa tripled the moment I saw him on the beach, with his fancy, silly expensive Italian shoes buried in the burning sand, something that he wouldn't do unless he has a gun at his temple and even then he would think twice.
And then I see Raffa thrusting himself inside of me, slow and gentle, hovering above me and sucking men in that intense glare of his beautiful big eyes with a hunger of me that I have never seen even in Papa's eyes before fetching Mamma and throwing her over his shoulder before disappearing in their room upstairs.
The memories of last night make me sob even louder which worries Julian I presume, hearing him knocking on the door and calling my name.
I let him be although I know his worry is genuine.
But I need this. I need to move on because I've promised myself that this night will be the last to spill my sorrow and feel pity for myself.
I was still sleeping when we landed. I woke up with Julian next to me, whispering to wake me up.
"Mia, sweetie... wake up, Mia. We arrived," he says.
When I open my eyes a sharp light burns my irises and makes me swiftly cover my face and groan with a headache that splits my brain in two.
"Come on," Julian says and lifts me in his strong arms, taking me out and off the airplane just to lay me gently in one of the cars waiting on the runway.
"We will reach Aunt Feli in no time, sweetie," he says and pulls me back in his arms where I hide, continuing my nap and being grateful for the blessing of having my brother with me.
He is the least I'm upset with.
"Did you talk to Papa?" I ask him.
"Yes, I did. He's home, with Mom. Don't worry, everything is fine now."
Fine now... those words spoke thousands of times more than you can imagine. From the tone of Julian, I understood that Michelle's matter had been taken care of and now there was peace.
My phone buzzes with a message and I fish it from the back pocket of my jeans, seeing Papa's name as a sender.
I know Julian has told you everything by now. I'm truly sorry for not knowing from the beginning who Michelle was and I'll feel guilty for it forever. But he paid dearly for what he did and I promise you, I'll never make the same mistake twice. I love you, sweetheart.
I decided not to reply yet. I'm not upset with him, I simply can't keep my eyes open. I only need a long sleep and a good Italian breakfast before being able to function properly.
So, I met Aunty in the morning of the next day, after a long and peaceful night, no dreams, no Raffa hunting me, no Papa or Julian guarding me at all times, no hurt and no pain, just sleep, rest.
When I opened my eyes in the morning of the next day the feeling was at least overwhelming. I'm in Italy... again, I'm hiding... again. The only difference is that this time it is my choice, my runaway, and believe it or not, it feels good.
It feels that I'm my own master and nobody gets to order me around, go there, don't go there, take guards, don't get away from their sight, you stay home, we get into hiding again... fuck it!
I won't leave here again. This and here will be my life.
I sprung from the bed and got a chilly shower to melt the heat of the night and with a tasty breakfast only Aunt Feli knows to prepare, I decided to start my day.
The only thing is that I feel a weird sense of disgust in my stomach still but that didn't prevent me from enjoying the breakfast to the fullest.
"Coffee? On the patio?" Aunt Feli asks while I'm drinking the last drop of Sicilian orange juice, sweet and sour at the same time, a much-needed patch for my still-shrunk stomach.
"Mhm," I hum in confirmation nodding my head and licking the last drops of juice on my lips.
"È stata la migliore colazione degli ultimi anni," I express my gratitude and Aunt Feli laughs loudly, standing up to collect the plates and I jump on my feet to help. (That was the best breakfast I had in years).
"Grazie, amore," she replies and plants a kiss on my cheek while we drop the dishes in the kitchen.
I answered with a tight hug that I yearned for so long. Despite the fact that I'm the center of attention of everyone, each carrying me from one safe place to another, all of them putting their lives on the line, I feel lonely with so many busy people around me.
I should be fine, I was born and raised in a "busy" family but the void in my heart doesn't get filled with their busyness and their care that I'm not physically hurt.
My heart and my soul need care and Aunt Feli has always had the gift to do it.
"Why don't you go and sit on the porch, Aunty? I'll bring the coffee," I tell her.
"Well, I won't say no to that," she replies and turns around leaving the kitchen and me to prepare the coffee.
When I get out on the porch I see Aunt Feli on the phone, rather whispering than talking, and as soon as I show up she smiles shyly and gives me a quick look.
I smile at her back, just as shyly, and place the tray on the small coffee table between our chairs.
"Va bene, caro. Parleremo domani," she ends the calls and places the phone next to her coffee mug. (Alright, darling. We talk tomorrow).
"Was that Papa?" I leisurely ask taking my seat next to her and grabbing the coffee mug with both hands, artistically hiding behind an unbeatable laxity the fact I'm dying to know what they have been talking about, zipping from the bitter drink.
"Yes, that was Enzo," she replies with no other intention to continue.
"What does he say?"
"What he doesn't say? You know your father. He worries too much for too many."
"Hm..." I hum. "Did he tell you anything about..."
"Raffa or Michelle?" she quickly interrupts me and I, just as a child caught on naughty things dive deeper into the chair, embarrassment striking me when hear the name of my ... half brother.
"Which one you want to know about, Mia? Because you're a grown-up woman now. You can't hide from... life."
"I didn't choose this life? I'm not one to be romantically involved in a relation to my sister, knowing very fucking well she is my sister, with the intent of reven..." suddenly I get stubbled into a gag remembering having been kissed and touched by Michelle. "... I'm gonna throw up..." I mumble having another gag coming out and rushing between the bushes near us, emptying my stomach and feeling sorry for my Aunty's amazing breakfast.
"Oh my God, sweetie," she yells and springs from her seat dropping the coffee mug, and rushes after me, collecting my hair to the back of my head and laying a chilly palm on my forehead.
A spree of cries takes me over, loud and liberating me from the anguish of having been used too many times. I sit on the ground and let myself embraced to the chest of Aunt Feli who quietly and gently rocks me back and forth while I cry out my sorrow.
"You need to have faith, child," she slowly speaks to me while waiting for me to be done. "You are over beyond your beliefs," she continues but not her words catch my attention and manage to calm me down while sobbing the last tears. It's her tone, the unspoken words between the ones she has just spelled that seem filled with more meanings than the ones she has intended.
I raise my eyes at her smiling face, kind and comforting and she winks, shoving her hand in the pocket and fishing a piece of paper out of there.
"I've got something for you," she says and offers me the note which I quickly unfold and read the few words neatly written.
I am right behind you... waiting.
R
"Where did you get this from?" I ask her amazed by the joy Aunt Feli the old-fashioned romantic nature that Raffa has just managed to shock me with.
"Of well..." she starts, grounding while standing up and stressing her dress and I follow her, whipping the remainder of the tears.
"A very young handsome man brought it to me this morning."
"Young and handsome?" I repeat her words smiling and I don't lie when I say a second heart had grown in my chest boosted with pride hearing how she describes Raffa.
"Oh yeah... and let me not forget the physic..." she becomes naughty and grabs my hand pulling me after her and towards the coffee place where we have started our morning before I... well, before I took the disgust out of my system, hoping that embarrassment is gone together with it.
"Aunty!" I scold her but secretly agree and float with pride and equally longing for Raffa.
"Don't you aunty me! I have eyes!" she laughs and laughs together with her until she grabs both of my hands and forces me to look at her, becoming suddenly serious.
"Sweetheart, I've seen the women of your family running away, denying their hearts and feelings, intending to do the right things just to hurt themselves more, and finally running back to the arms of the men they loved. I lived the most beautiful love stories through their hearts and souls and equally, the deepest sorrows when fighting destiny, which finally they couldn't run away from, and you can't either."
I stare at her with such intensity that my eyelids forget to blink, and my heart freezes, magically turned into a mountain of love, skipping beat after beat, missing him enormously already.
I squeeze the little piece of paper to my chest, my lips escaping a sob and I stand up just to sit on my Aunty's lap, just like I used to do when I was a kid.
"Oh, sweetie," she says and wraps her arms around me. "Take your time, but don't run," she advises and I nod, feeling her words deeper than she thinks.
"Will you tell me the stories? I ask.
"Which stories, sweetheart?"
"The store of Mamma Eve and Grandma Becca."
She laughs.
"Oh, don't get me started," she replies.
~~~~~
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