Page 2

TWO

zina

I came here knowing that it would not be easy. Knowing that Giovanni would not be happy to see me. But what choice did I have? I’ve waited sixteen years to see him. I respected his wishes to stay out of his life, but his wife is dead now and he can no longer push me away.

We were in love once. At least I was.

I was young and, at just twenty-twenty one, I knew nothing about relationships or heartbreak. He was my first love and, unfortunately, my only love. He was older than me, at twenty-seven, and I looked up to him as though he knew everything. I didn’t question a word he said to me. Even when he told me, we could run away together. He told me we could make a life for ourselves.

He was already married to her. Bella. The most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, but he said he would leave her for me. And I believed him.

Of course, it wasn’t true. I still don’t know if he always knew he would never leave her or if, just for a moment, he let himself believe he might.

But at the end of the day - he chose her and his young boys. At the time, his oldest son, Santino, was only eight years old and his youngest, Dante, was five.

They’ve all met me, but I doubt they would remember it.

I hardly remember it - it feels like a thousand years ago.

A different life in a different world.

It broke me to pieces when he chose her, but now, years later, as a mother with my own son, I understand that he had no choice. His children came first - he chose them over love, over wild dreams. Even if he had loved me more than her - he would have chosen his family.

But now she’s gone, and his boys are old enough to know the truth.

Santino gently pries his brother from his father’s embrace and leads him away. My heart breaks for the pain the boys must be going through. I would hate for my son to experience the grief of losing me.

Giovanni takes a moment to compose himself, then turns towards me with anger in his eyes.

“What are you trying to do?” he snaps coldly.

“I just need to talk to you, Giovanni.” I answer, keeping my voice low because the crowd of people around are already staring with hostile intensity.

They can look all they want. It isn’t going to make me leave.

“And you honestly thought this was the right time?”

“It’s the only time. I’ve waited patiently for sixteen years.” I say with a deep sigh.

Giovanni pulls his mouth tight and shakes his head.

I think he finally understands that I’m not leaving until he gives me a chance to say what I came here to say.

With a tilt of his head, he gestures for me to follow him and I quickly grab Guido ’s hand and pull him to follow me. I will not leave him alone out here. Not with these people who look at him as though they hate him, even though they’ve got no idea who he is.

Romeo looks from me to his father and bolts towards the door that leads outside into the cold evening air, probably to find his brothers.

Guido stays close to my side as I step into the catering kitchen off the main hall near the back of the church.

I squeeze his hand, trying to reassure him that everything is going to be ok. I hope so. I hope it will be ok. My heart is racing. My shoulders are tight with anxiety and my stomach is knotted. I’ve practiced this conversation a thousand times in my head. But none of the scenarios I played out late at night while lying awake in the small hours of the morning could prepare me for coming face to face with the man from my past.

He is still as gorgeous as he’s always been.

Dark, thick hair frames his face and there are deep lines etched between his eyes. He used to scowl often, even when I knew him all those years ago. Whenever he was lost in thought, his brows would knot together. Now the lines in his face tell stories of a lifetime carrying that same expression.

Age suites him. He looks stronger, taller, more serious. But in his green eyes, I can still see the younger version of himself. That wild, beautiful man who I loved so deeply.

I take a deep breath.

Giovanni looks furious. But I imagine he is filled with grief and most of the emotions clouding his expression have nothing to do with me being here. Although he looks more than surprised to see me again.

“Zina. Of all the days for you to choose to show up on my doorstep - today is the worst.” He growls as he steps towards me.

I hold my ground, not taking a step back, not letting him see how nervous I am, even though he is towering over me ominously.

“Giovanni, you loved me once. You treated me with respect and with care. If any of that was ever true, then please, give me a chance now.”

“A chance for what?” he huffs, his eyes turning away from me at the mention of our past.

I’ve made him uncomfortable. His fists clench and unclench at his side and he presses his lips together, closing his eyes for a moment.

“A chance to make something right.” I sigh, trying to sort through the jumble of words spinning in my mind.

“Stop talking in riddles and spit it out, Zina. Today is not about you. It’s about saying goodbye to my wife, and your presence here is nothing but a hinderance.” He growls.

I’m about to tell him what I came to say when the door to the kitchen bursts open and all three of his son’s spill into the space.

“Dad, what the hell is going on?” Santino demands.

“Who is she? And who is that?” Romeo snaps, pointing at my son.

Guido steps behind me as tensions rise.

Dante says nothing, but his eyes are locked onto me with hatred.

“Boys, you need to give us a moment. We have things to discuss.” Giovanni tells them, but not one of them makes an effort to leave.

“If he’s allowed to be in here, then so are we.” Dante says, gesturing towards Guido with his chin.

Giovanni sneers in annoyance. He never liked to be disobeyed, even back then, he hated it when people said no to him. It’s one of the things that made him so attractive. His dominance, his ability to make me do whatever he wanted.

My cheeks flush at the memory and I quickly blink them away.

There have been so many nights when I’ve dreamed of him and the passion we used to share.

But that was long ago.

And it’s not why I’m here.

Giovanni glares at his oldest son. “Santino, get your brothers out of here. This conversation is private.”

“No, dad, we have a right to know what?—”

“Santino!” He snaps.

“Giovanni, Santino is right, they should hear this - “ I say boldly, knowing I’m playing with fire and it’s going to quickly turn into a rain uncontrollable blaze.

“Who the hell are you to tell me what my sons can and can’t be part of.” He steps close to me, tilting his chin down as his bright green eyes shoot anger into mine.

I don’t budge.

I can’t show weakness.

“Your family deserves to know.” I say calmly.

“Know what?” Santino insists, getting impatient.

“You need to leave.” Giovanni snaps at me.

“No.” I say, keeping my tone neutral.

In a rage, Giovanni grabs my arm and drags me towards the door. He pulls me out of the kitchen, through the main hall as everything single one of his guests turns to watch.

Their eyes are glued to us as he marches me ceremoniously out of the church hall and through the wide wooden doors that lead onto the front steps.

He pushes me into the rain.

Guido quickly comes to my side, glaring at him, angry and defensive.

I pull Guido behind me. “It’s ok.” I whisper to my son.

Through the doors the guests are murmuring, trying to guess what is going on.

Giovanni is standing in the doorway, neither in nor out.

“Giovanni, if you won’t speak to me in private, I will have to say what I came to say here - now. Where everyone can hear.”

In a second, he has closed the space between us. His hand locks around my throat as his eyes are filled with warning. Rain splashes down onto us, quickly drenching him and causing his dark hair to stick to his forehead.

“Don’t you dare.” He growls. “Whatever spills from your lips is a lie.”

His fingers loosen, but the heat of his gaze remains intense.

The rain soaks through my black coat, through my dress, and bites cold against my skin.

His sons are standing nervously on the steps of the church, shifting, tense, waiting.

“He’s your son, Giovanni.” I whisper.

Santino hears me and his eyes shoot wide.

“Dad?” He stammers.

“It’s not true, Santino. She’s lying.” He says quickly, glancing back, but I can sense the panic in him. He can see it. The boy looks just like him. It’s been sixteen years since he chased me away and Guido is sixteen years old.

I was three months pregnant the last time I saw Giovanni.

I never told him.

What was the point?

But Guido deserves to know his father. He deserves to have the same security his brothers have.

And I won’t back down until Giovanni agrees.

I’ve been respectful enough to stay away for the sake of Bella, for the sake of his family. But not anymore.

“What are you trying to do, Zina?” Giovanni says, a harsh whisper against my lips. He’s leaning close, terrified that someone else will hear.

He glances nervously towards the door, the guest are slowly creeping closer with curious stares.

“Get back inside. This is none of your business.” He shouts at them and they jump in fright before hurrying away.

“Dad.” Romeo says, his words tight with questions.

Giovanni shakes his head. He drops his hand from my throat and takes one step back, trying to regain control of himself.

“Zina, please don’t do this.” He whispers to me.

“I can’t walk away again. It’s not fair of you to ask that of me.” I reply.

“Dad - it’s not true is it?” Dante says, walking out into the rain, his eyes narrowed towards Guido. “She’s a liar, like you say.” He snaps.

Giovanni doesn’t take his eyes off me.

Guido takes a step back as Dante closes the gap between them.

In a flash, Dante is on top of Guido, rolling in the muddy grass, soaked by hours of rain.

Guido kicks and tries to block the punches, but Dante is stronger, tall for his age and full of anger after losing his mother.

Guido screams my name and I run towards him, trying to pull Dante off him. “Please, stop.” I shout. But it’s as though Dante can’t hear. His grief has blinded him to everything other than what is right in front of his face.

He punches Guido again and I scream at Giovanni to do something.

Giovanni reluctantly grabs Dante and lifts him off Guido.

I kneel beside Guido in the mud and pull him into my arms, cradling his face in my hands, to see how bad he looks.

A trail of blood runs down the side of his mouth, quickly washed away by the rain, but otherwise he looks ok - it’s his heart that has suffered more pain than his body.

Giovanni holds out his hand and pulls me to my feet.

“Can’t you see you’re causing problems here. Just go.” He snaps.

I pull my hand away from his and anger surges inside me.

“I’m not leaving until you acknowledge your son.” I shout, my words almost drowned away by a rumble of thunder above us.

Giovanni glances in panic towards the guests.

“Keep you fucking voice down.” He warns me.