Page 16 of A Treasure To Keep
I pack up my laptop, hoping to avoid El and Andrea as they leave, while I hide in my office all day. The feed of our cameras stays up on my collection of computer monitors as I work. I need to make sure they’re gone before I make another appearance today. If I avoid the topic of last night as much as possible, I can try to pretend it never existed.
Chapter 16
El
When Andrea and I woke up this morning, I rolled over, making love to him until we were too spent to speak. We completely avoid the topic of last night. Hell will freeze over before I admit that last night was amazing. If Andrea’s thoughts match mine, he’s disguising it perfectly.
While my internal monologue spins out of control, I go on autopilot and don’t realize I’m home until I pull into the driveway. Mamma and Papa know I was at a bachelorette party last night. Who’s? They’ll never know. If I told them it was with someone engaged to someone in the Leone family, let alone the guy who runs things in America, they’d flip. I can only imagine the yelling and drama that would commence. What they don’t know is that I had no intention of staying over there until I realized how much Luci and I had drunk. It was right on the edge of I better not drive, and I can still think straight-ish. Which is how I ended up giving in to Marco as easily as I did. Normally, I’d fight him first, fuck him later.
I slide my heels off when I creak open the door, tiptoeing into the house. The stairs metaphorically glow off in the distance when I close the door, practically shushing the door as it clicks shut.
I’m halfway up the stairs when I hear his strict voice. Papa stops me with Mamma in the background while I try to sneak up to my room. I was insanely close!
“Where have you been? You said nothing about being out all night. I swear, if you got into legal trouble again, you’re paying to get yourself out of it. I’m not calling my lawyer to get you out of any mess you caused.” Of course, he brings upthatbachelorette party. Seriously? We had zero intention of floating out into international waters. I swear, Miami does crazy things to you.
“That was one time! Believe it or not, I was being responsible. My friend and I had one too many drinks, and I stayed over there so I wouldn’t be driving. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going upstairs to shower.” I bolt up the stairs and into my room before Papa or Mamma can chase me down.
After an extremely long shower, I slide my robe on and head into my room, only to see Mamma on my bed. Of course, she snuck her way in here. She knows I won’t shove her out of my room if she’s already sitting down. Honestly, I’m a little pissed about it.
“Mamma! I just got out of the shower! What could you possibly need right now that couldn’t wait?” I’m in the middle of tossing my wet hair into a towel when she crosses her legs, her signature stern face on full display.
I can see the flashing lights saying ‘gaslighting’ before she even speaks. This can’t be good. “Are you saying I can’t come speak with my daughter? I want to know what is going on in your life. Is that so wrong?”
If there’s one thing Italian mammas know how to do, it’s guilt trip and gaslight their children. “Alright, Mamma, we both knowyou’re going to Segway into what you’re trying to ask. Let’s skip the niceties. What can I do for you?”
“How are you? How’s your job? How was the bachelorette party? How are things going with you and Marco?” Of. Fucking. Course.
“Mamma! I’m not dating Marco. He’s a misogynistic asshat. Also, I love Andrea. He’s my amore.” Half of that is me trying to convince myself that I wholeheartedly still believe that about Marco. I mean, he is. Yes. Yes, Marco is an asshat who blows up my day whenever he’s around.
Mamma gets up and busies herself, folding a few items I laid over the chair at my vanity. “Marco is a better man for you. He will be able to give you the life you’ve become accustomed to living. The life your papa has given us your whole life. Not every marriage needs love, you know. You had that opportunity before when your papa and I handed it to you. You let it go because of a trivial mistake. Don’t assume it will cross your path for a third time if you let Marco waltz past you. He won’t wait around forever.” Is she seriously insinuating what I think she means?
“Whoever I marry, which I know will be Andrea, will be a man I love. I’m not dating or marrying someone just because. I’d rather have love than a big house.” Mamma slams the piece of clothing she was folding back on the chair and whips around fast enough you could convince me she was slapped.
“Eleanora Marie, you are being ridiculous. You need to stop being stubborn for once and listen to your papa and me. Marco is the man you should be with. I don’t want to hear anything more about Andrea. He’s not worthy of you.”
I scoff, shocked by the words she said to me. “If anyone’s not worthy of someone, it’s me who’s not worthy of Andrea. He would fly to the moon and bring it back if I asked him. He treats me with the love and respect people dream of. Something I wouldn’t have if I were with anyone else. I’m his treasure.”
“You’re his treasure? What a joke. Eleanora, your jewelry and your trinkets are treasures. You are a woman who needs a husband to give you children. If it's not going to be who we chose for you initially, it needs to be Marco. You’re wasting your time with Andrea. Get serious about your life for once. You’re an only child, meaning you need to hurry before you dry up and become some spinster that lets the Gallo genetics expire with you. I expect your next date to be with Marco.” She turns on her heels, rushing out of the room while I’m here processing what she said. I slam the door behind her, ensuring that everyone in the house hears the drama that ensued in this room.
I pace around my room in my robe, fuming as I figure out what to do. “Fuck it.” My parents should be leaving for brunch any second, meaning I have several hours alone. I take the chance to grab my overnight bag, pack what I can, and leave the house. I’m a grown woman and need to take my life into my own hands. Andrea has begged me time and time again to move in with him. I was always worried about my parent’s reaction and the consequences it could have on our relationship. At this point, relationship be damned. I have nothing to lose.
One overnight bag turns into four, slowly getting larger with each one. Eventually, I have to stop myself and cut my losses on items I have to leave behind. I snatch up my important treasures, leaving the trinkets I found at the park and other places growing up, prioritizing important treasures. Jewelry gifted to me by Andrea or my nonna, beautiful bags purchased on vacations in Europe, and most importantly, the love notes Andrea has given me. He heard of the idea in a movie and now leaves a love note in my locker at work at least once a month.
The drive to Andrea's apartment is long, and I’m worried about his reaction. Logically, I know I shouldn’t worry. He will welcome me with open arms any day of the week. The last twenty-four hours have been a whirlwind, causing my internalmonologue to pull any anxious thought to the forefront of my brain.
“It will be fine. Andrea will welcome me into his apartment. Everything will be perfect.” Sometimes, hearing my internal monologue makes my brain believe what I’m thinking.
When I pull into a spot, I rush out of my car to his door without my bags while I still have the courage. My heels echo through the empty apartment hall when I appear at Andrea’s door, pausing for a second before knocking. I’m not sure what makes me this nervous. I can’t think of a world where he would deny me, deny us, of living together.
“Come on, Andrea. Please be home. I need you to be home.” Tears well up in my eyes, and I inhale deeply when the door opens.
Andrea pulls me to him when he sees me, bringing me inside with him. His gentle heartbeat settles my nerves as I let my body sag against him. “Mon trésor, come in. Tell me who brought tears to your eyes.”
Instantly, I know I’m safe and loved as long as I’m in his arms.
Chapter 17
Andrea