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I made a face. “I doubt it very much.” I couldn’t tell her what I’d overheard him say to Dean because Dante would not appreciate it. But I was tempted to, so she’d not try this nonsense and maybe validate how I was feeling because Dante hadn’t. Instead, he behaved like it was my fault I overheard him, and I should get over it.
“You know why Don Giordano had to raise Dante?”
I nodded. Don Giordano had told me when he asked me to take care of his grandson by marrying him.
“He hasn’t known love…with me, there is love, but he spent too many of his formative years being ignored by his parents. So, you have to teach him, Elysa, to love and be loved.”
Giulia’s expression was earnest. “You’re good for him. Better than you realize. I know things seem difficult right now, but you shouldn’t give up on him. On your marriage.”
I let out a bitter laugh before I could stop myself.
Several eyes turned to look at me, even Dante’s. He raised his chin in inquiry, and I shook my head and mouthed, “Nothing.”
He looked at me for a moment longer before Lucia took his attention away from me.Story of my marriage!
“Giulia, you don’t understand. I already told Dante he could move on. And trust me, he has.” My eyes flicked pointedly to Lucia. I knew I shouldn’t be so blatant about Dante having an affair, but God, how I hated the role of the little wife who was tolerating the inevitable sexy mistress.
Giulia hesitated, her gaze softening. “He’dnevercheat on you. I know that man in and out, and his integrity won’t let him.”
“But what if he wants to?” I asked, my eyes filling with emotion. “What if he wants another woman, and he’s admitted to it? Then what?”
“Then, he’s anidiotawho is afraid of how he feelsabout his wife. Wouldn’t be the firstidiotato do that,” she claimed.
I looked back out the window, the countryside a blur of greens and golds. “You know who raised me?”
Giulia didn’t say anything, but I could see her reflection in the window as she waited. I didn’t look at her because if I did, I’d erupt into tears and make a scene.
"No one raised me. I had to raise myself." The word tumbled out of me, maybe because I wanted someone from my husband’s world to understandme. Dante hadn’t bothered; maybe Giulia would.
“Nonno was in Italy, too far away to do much, and then…he was gone. My father? You know he never even visited me in New York. After my parents divorced, I only spent two summers in Italy when I was six and seven, and after that, I didn’t see him again until…the wedding.”
Giulia made a sound of disgust, directed at Papa. “This is shameful behavior from a father. What about your mother?”
I shrugged. “She doesn’t like me because of my values—meaning, I’m not a nun.”
Giulia shook her head and looked at me with kind eyes.
“The only person who ever kept in touch was Don Giordano.” I smiled thinking about the man who’d been my grandfather’s friend and had become mine. “He visited me in New York, took me out to dinner,came over so I could cook for him. I saw him at least a few times every year—the one constant in a life where everyone else disappeared.”
“He was very fond of you,” Giulia said tenderly.
"Yes, and I’m so grateful. The only time someone truly wanted me, Giulia, was when Don Giordano asked me to marry his grandson. I couldn’t say no to him. He made me feel like I belonged, like I was family, and..." I felt the sting of tears welling up before I could stop them. I missed him so much. The grief of losing him was still raw, still fresh, an ache that hadn’t dulled with time.
Giulia held my hand and squeezed.
“Dante doesn’t want me,” I whispered in despair. “I deserve to be wanted, to be loved, to be…first for my own husband, don’t I?”
Giulia sniffled, and I felt horrible that I’d made her sad. “You’re both damaged people who can heal each other. I think you did heal him, and he’s only now realizing it, and I think he’s also…learning that he didn’t give back to you.”
I shrugged. “I can’t wait for him to learn or grow up. I can’t take that chance. Being with him when he wants someone else is just too painful.”
“Because you love him,” she stated. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” I breathed. “I love him very much.”
Giulia slid an arm around me. “It’s going to be alright. I just know it.”
If she’d been with me an hour later in the train’s viewing car when Lucia came to speak with me, Giulia would have found out how wrong she was.