<-I-L-A-<<<
There was a routine that Aiden and I followed as recovering patients in Quinten's house. I would wake up at around 10 in the morning. It was later than the usual time I'd get up at because of the pain and sleeping medication that I took prior to bed the night before. From my bed, I'd order food for two through postmates. Surfing the internet, I'd wait for the doorbell. After receiving the brunch, I'd make my way over to Aiden's neighboring room. Together, we'd eat our late breakfast. This would happen again for lunch and dinner. When we weren't eating in each other's company, I was back in my room. I couldn't tell you what Aiden was doing when I wasn't around but my day consisted of naps and a visit from Dr. Kint. He was a friend of Quinten who specialized in muscle rehabilitation.
Once a day, Dr. Kint would come over to Quinten's and we'd start with a session of physical therapy. Each visit, the difficulty and time of the session increases. The extreme stretching of my arms caused me to become a sweaty mess at the end of the exercise that Dr. Kint planned. After he worked me out, he moved to Aiden. His struggles could be heard through the walls for he usually groaned from uncomfort and pain.
However, today was different. After weeks of physical therapy of Dr. Kent, my arm was out of my sling. Aiden went from being pushed around in his bed to being pushed in a wheelchair to hobbling on his own on crutches. The both of us sat in the living room with Quinten, waiting for Matteo to pick us up.
It wasn't long before Matteo arrived. Quinten held open the door for me and Adien. Aiden walked out and Matteo helped him walk down the driving to the car.
"Thanks a lot," I said to Quinten as I walked out of the front door of his house.
"No problem," he assured with a wide smile. "Really, if you need anything, please come to me."
"I will," I promised. I walked away from Quinten and waved goodbye to him as he stayed at the door.
Aiden was halfway down the driveway with Matteo by his side. I cut through the grass, seeing that it was the fastest way to the car. I hopped into the backseat. Instead of joining me, Aiden rode the passenger seat. I could feel Matteo's piercing gaze through the rearview mirror as he drove. I pretended that I didn't know and continued looking down in my lap where I held my phone.
Matteo and I haven't talked since the time I told him that I want to leave the mafia. I was planning to go the morning after the conversation but Matteo, with the agreement of Quinten, made me stay under the care of Quinten until I got better.
Now that we are at this point, I have no idea what I was going to do. I'll have to figure that out until I get to my room.
>>>-M-A-T-T-E-O->
Before I could turn off the engine, Ila got out of the car and zoomed in the house. I sighed, cutting off the engine with the turn of the key and exiting out. I walked over to Aiden, who managed to get out of the car by himself. I stayed by his side as we walked up to the driveway to the front door, in case he needed help with anything. The front door was left opened by Ila. By the time we got there, I could see her already reaching the second floor.
"Matteo, your father is in your room," Leo said, noticing me walk in with crippled Aiden.
"When did he come?' I asked.
"Just now," he answered.
"Okay, thank you."
"You go on ahead, I'm going to the kitchen," said Aiden, before he hobbled away in the direction of the food.
Walking to the elevator, I pulled out my phone. In the elevator, I texted my father to tell him I was coming up. The elevator doors slid open after the small chime of a bell and I arrived at the fourth floor. I walked to my room and opened my door to see my father in my bed with his shoes on. I sighed and closed the door.
"You could have at least taken off your shoes off," I pointed out. My father grumbled, kicking off his shoes.
"Did you get a new mattress?" He asked. "I'm just sinking in here."
"I did, thanks for noticing," I said, dripping with sarcasm. "What are you doing here anyway?'
"Son, you said you needed to talk to me."
"Oh right." I had let it slipped out of my mind. After Ila told me she wanted out, I requested to speak with my father but he said he already had too much on his hands for a conversation. "Finally have time for me?"
My dad sat up, giving me a stern look, "I had my plate full and you know it. I bet you that whatever we are going to talk about is going to stupid."
I crossed my arms as I defended myself, "It's not."
"Okay, then, what is it?"
"Ila wants to leave the Il Bisbiglio."
My father sighed, raising his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, "Let her go then."
"What?" I asked, not believing what I heard.
"I said to let her go. If that's what she wants, then let her."
"Why?" He wasn't making any sense. "You weren't like this when Perseo wanted to quit."
My father sat up on the bed and explained, "That is a different situation. He owes us money and already knew what he got himself into when joining this mafia. Ila? She's helped us in many ways and what she went through at Stollo's must have been tough on her. She reminds me of your mo-"
"Don't bring up my mom," I frowned.
My father cleared his throat from my little interruption and continued speaking, "Marcella told me before you called me, asking to talk. Other than being busy, I wanted to see how things play out. I knew you were going to try and stop her, because you are selfish. Although, I know you are smart and that you know you aren't doing the right thing. Do you even know what happened to her?"
I shook my head, answering him with a no, "She hasn't told me the specifics."
"She told Marcella. Marcella told me. It wasn't good. Of course, she'd want to leave."
"She'll be tracked down by Stollo," I argued.
"You act like we can't watch her when she isn't around. We can set up a few men around her house, or have someone follow her," my father suggested.
I frowned, sighing to relieve the heavyweight off of my chest. I wasn't acting on my selfishness as my father thought I was, but I couldn't help feel like it was my feelings that didn't want to let her go. My heart felt uneasy.
<-I-L-A-<<<
I made it to my room, successfully avoiding any confrontation or contact from everyone. I closed the door behind me and scanned the room, looking at where to start.
I walked to my bed and lifted the blankets that hung off the sides of the perfectly made bed. Right where I left it, my two suitcases I had was under my bed. I pulled them out and set the open on my bed.
There was a knock on the door before it opened slightly. Marcella poked her head through the crack to see if anyone was in the room. Seeing me, she walked herself in.
"Hey," I said, a soft smile at my lips.
"Packing, already?" She asked, getting near to see my the situation on my bed.
"Yeah. I honestly don't think I need to. All the stuff I have now are the ones you guys bought for me."
"To replace your things that the whore ruined, remember? It's basically yours."
"The stuff I lost didn't cost the fraction of what you spent on Matteo's card," I laughed, remembering the hefty price tag that came with the haul.
"I'll help you with your packing," Marcella said. She went to my bathroom and came back with her arms filled with the clothes from my closet. She set them on the bed and began to take off the hangers. "I'll take them off the hangers and you fold."
With a system going, the first suitcase was filled. We were moving on to the second suitcase when there was another knock on the door. This time it was Matteo.
"Ila, can you come with me?" He asked, finally speaking words to me. It was a long time since I heard his voice call out my name.
"Is it urgent? I'm packing with Marcella," I said, trying my best to not be with Matteo in fear of him trying to make me stay.
"I'm sure Marcella wouldn't mind," Matteo assured, almost threatening as he looked at her.
I turned around to see her myself. Marcella looked at me and looked Matteo and back to me. To save herself, she ran to my bathroom and into my closet.
With no backup, I gave in, "Okay."
<~>
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