Epilogue 2

Gia- Christmas Night

With the kids finally asleep in bed, the house is quiet. But with the quiet come all the thoughts about Max and our conversation in the kitchen. Or shall I say, lack of conversation?

For two months, he’s been back in New York protecting me and the kids, and all that time, I’d been trying to talk to him beyond the regular pleasantries. It’s clear he didn’t want that by how he’s gone out of his way to avoid it.

Max returned to New York two months ago after my father tried to kill my brother. His job was to protect me, as he promised my mother he’d do all those years ago when he became my godfather. Of course, I don’t remember that. I was young when he made his vow in front of God and my mother, only seventeen or eighteen, which when I ran the numbers, had seemed too young.

Nic explained to me once that my mother had a premonition that my father would do something to her. Nic and Max were the only two she trusted. And so, she made them promise to watch out for me. And they have, except Nic is the one who is around the most.

I’ve seen Max off and on through the years. Nic told me his job was to work closer with my father and make sure he didn’t do anything against me. I remember wondering why he would. I was his daughter.

When I was eighteen, my father arranged for me to marry Aldo Cantore, a man more than twice my age and nearly as mean as my father. When I balked is when I learned just how lethal my father could be. He said the only thing I was good for was giving men pleasure and if I didn’t marry Aldo and make him happy, he’d sell me another way or just get rid of me. I’d never been so terrified in my life, although I’ve been as terrified many times since, all due to my father’s threats.

Max had returned from wherever my father had sent him during that time. I remember having such a crush on him. I think it started when I was sixteen and he was in New York living it up with Nic. But when I was eighteen and faced with a marriage I couldn’t stomach, it was Max I turned to for help.

He was understanding and sweet to me. I was a young woman, na?ve about the world, and so it’s not surprising that I fell in love with him. And for a moment, even though he was in his mid-thirties, I thought he’d felt the same about me. Because I did, I asked him to be my first. To be the man I gave my virginity to.

Of course, he turned me down. Part of the deal of my marriage was that I was a virgin. He knew how I’d be treated if it came out that I wasn't pure. But I didn’t care. I begged him. I told him I wanted to know what passion and pleasure were really like because I was sure I wouldn’t have it with Aldo.

I remember the triumph I felt when Max gave in. I can still feel the way his hands touched me. The way he tasted when he kissed me. The feel of him moving inside me, bringing a pleasure I’d never felt.

When it was over, I was certain Max and I would be together forever. Surely, he’d whisk me away. He’d protect me from my father, and we would live happily ever after.

Some people still think I’m young at twenty-three, but I know for certain that I’ve grown up a lot since that time. At eighteen, I was truly ignorant of the world. I believed in love. Max taught me my first lesson, that love is a lie. Max didn’t save me. He left without a word. He went to Las Vegas to head up my father’s business there.

Two months later, my father married me off to Aldo. Seven months after that, I gave birth to Dario and Daniella. Not long after that, Aldo was murdered. I suspect Nic killed him, and I’d thank him if I could, but since he doesn’t want me to know, I don’t say anything.

And then Max was here again. I hadn’t seen him for nearly five years, except a few fleeting times when he was meeting with my father or Nic. He was ordered here to protect me, a job he didn’t want. His attitude toward me made that clear.

But it didn’t stop me from wanting to tell him the truth. Each time I tried to talk to him, though, he found a way to avoid me. He had to check the perimeter of my house. He had to organize help for Nic.

Tonight, Nic forced him here for Christmas, but the man stood by the window, not hiding his longing to break free. I’d like to say I’m beyond the hurt that he can’t stand to be around me, but I’m not. I don’t understand it. What did I do to earn his dismissiveness?

When he went to the kitchen to do the dishes tonight, I followed him in, knowing it was my last chance to say what I needed to say. But as usual, he was a jerk.

I pour a glass of wine and sit by the Christmas tree knowing it’s time to let it all go. I look at the handmade ornaments the kids made hanging on the tree and below it, all the piles of toys. Dario and Daniella are what’s important. They are the heart and soul of my life. I’m so blessed to have them. They’re good, happy, well-rounded kids, thanks in large part to Nic who is always here for me, helping me protect and raise them. He’s Uncle Nic to them. A father figure. The only one they have. The only one they’ll ever have.

I close my eyes and make peace with the situation.

My kids will never know their father… or I should say their real father?

And Max will never know he’s a father.