Page 3 of Vicious Behaviors

“I love you, little brother. I’m going to miss the fuck out of you.”

“Me too,” I choke out, unable to hold back my tears like he is.

Jude pulls away and wipes my eyes before looking at our father.

“Stay safe,” Vincent croaks, his voice thick with emotion.

“I will. And even though I’m leaving… even though I need to leave… I love you,Papà.”

“Ti amo tanto,” our father replies, crestfallen.

Jude’s jaw quivers as his gaze bounces from our father to me, and then to the house behind us where he grew up. Finally, he turns and rapidly walks toward the black town car waiting to take him to O’Hare International Airport. Our father pulls me close by the shoulders, steadying me as we watch Jude slide into the car and ride away.

Silent tears stream down my face as my father’s body shakes behind me. Then he turns me around and kneels in front of me, wiping my tears even as his own threaten to break his impenetrable dam.

“No tears, my little prince,” he says softly. “Your brother will be home before you know it.”

I look into his eyes and see the lie embedded in them. I’m just not sure if he’s lying to me… or to himself.

“But what if he doesn’t,Papà? What if he never comes back?” I whisper, my tears streaming harder down my cheeks.

“He will,” my father says softly. “He’s a Romano. Just like you. And we don’t do well without family.”

He smiles, but it’s the kind of smile people wear when trying to hide how they’re bleeding inside from a cut that just won’t heal.

“Papà?” I start nervously, “What if I’m a bad big brother? What if I can’t be like Jude?” My voice cracks under the weight of it all. The fear, the pressure, the sinking feeling that my brothers and sisters are worse off now… because they only have me to protect them.

My father brushes away my tears with surprising gentleness, love shining in his eyes.

“You don’t need to fill Jude’s shoes, Marcello. Just be yourself. You are one of a kind,il mio piccolo principe.Your heart,” he places his hand over my chest, his palm large and steady, grounding me, “is just as pure as your mother’s. As long as you follow it, you’ll be the kind of big brother they need.”

I wipe my nose on my sleeve, the weight of his words almost too much to carry.

“But he’s so brave. And I’m—”

“You’re what?” he asks gently, brow lifted.

“Not.”

I drop my gaze, ashamed of how small the truth sounds when I say it out loud. But he tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“You give yourself too little credit, my son. One day, you’ll see what I see. You’re stronger and braver than you realize,Marcello. You just haven’t been tested yet. But when the time comes, you’ll rise to the occasion. Of that, I’m certain. Don’t rush the inevitable.”

A flicker of hope stirs in my chest.

“Do you think I’ll ever be like him, though?” I ask. “Like Jude?”

My father smiles again, though my question seems to trouble him.

“You don’t need to be like your brother. Nor do I expect you to. Just be you. Just be Marcello Romano. Because that’s enough. That’s more than enough. That’s everything.”

He pulls me into a hug and presses a kiss on the top of my head. I want to stay in his embrace forever, locked in that moment, held in the warmth of someone who believes in me so wholeheartedly that he almost made me believe in myself, too. Made me believe that I could be good as well as brave.

But all moments end.

If I knew that would be one of the last hugs I would ever get from my father, maybe I would have held on tighter. Though what would be the point since everything ends?

He was wrong about me. I didn’t grow into the boy he believed in. I didn’t become the man Jude hoped I would. I became something else entirely.