by Serena Light
Even now, she had been sitting with her legs pulled to her chest and the lunch trey untouched beside her when a knock sounded on the door. Sighing, she knew it was the maids to take it away.
"Come in," She called from her place, hearing the door open and close with footsteps resonating in the hallway before her father peeked out from the corner. "Daddy," She sat up in surprise not having expected him.
"Hey, pumpkin," He chuckled at her surprise and made his way to her, leaning down to hug her tight as she returned the gesture. "How are you doing?"
"Hanging in there," Nicole shrugged, lying through her teeth at the reality of the situation.
"That's good to know," Renzo settled down at the edge of the bed and his daughter noticed that he had lost a couple of pounds, but looked well. His hair dyed, his beard trimmed, but a soft smile on his lips. He was taking his wife's passing a lot better than his daughter that was for sure. "So, tell me-" He began to speak when a knock sounded on the door.
"Uh...come in," Nicole called, expecting the maids, but was again taken off guard when her husband entered with a bright smile, looking dashing in a two-piece dark grey suit with a navy blue sweater over the white button-up and paired with a black silk tie, his black hair pushed to the side.
"I was just coming to you," Salvatore chuckled, looking at Renzo with bright eyes.
"Well, my boy, I beat you to it," Renzo teased and stood up to hug him with a laugh. "Oh, it's good to see you,"
"You're telling me?" The Mafia Boss scoffed. "Tell me, how did it go? Was it any help? Were accommodations to your liking-?"
"-It was perfect," Mr. Lombardi halted his rambling. "Truly, thank you so much for everything you have done for me, believe me, I feel like a new man."
"You look like a new man too, dad,"
Renzo laughed at the words as Nicole watched with furrowed eyebrows to see her husband and father getting along so well. Her confusion growing to hear the two talking in Italian about the suits fitting and this supposed trip her father was gone on without her knowledge, their excited chatter coming to a halt when Salvatore's phone beeped.
"Ah," Salvatore clicked his tongue as he looked at the screen.
"Business?" Renzo inquired with a smile and raised an eyebrow.
"Business."
"Go on," He chuckled. "I'm good,"
"Just give me a call if you need anything," The younger man squeezed his shoulder, his eyes conveying a deeper meaning to his words.
"I've learned my lesson, son,"
"I'm sure you have," He smiled at the older man, about to walk away when he halted. "Oh, before I forget,"
Salvatore turned back to Renzo, taking a small black box out of his coat pocket and handing it to the older man who looked down at the container in shock before looking up at him.
"How?" He asked in awe, opening the lid to look down at the contents, tears moistening his eyes at the sight of it. "How?"
"Anything for family," Salvatore assured and clapped him on the shoulder before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.
Nicole watched her father staring at the inside of the box in silence before he fell back on the bed, causing the mattress to bounce as he wiped at his cheek, smiling down at his hands.
"Dad?" Nicole called out, watching her father's gaze shot up to her with the same broad smile.
"Yes, dear?"
"Care to enlighten me about everything?"
"Only if you do the same," Her father sniffled and closed the box before she could see what was inside and slipped it into his jacket pocket. "That boy is miserable like hell and I know it has something to do with your marriage. So you tell me what's going on with you two, and I'll tell you what's going on with me,"
Nicole narrowed her eyes at her father, the curiosity of his better state having her relent.
"I'm thinking about getting a divorce," She told him.
"Why?"
"Because a part of me blames him for mom,"
"You're not serious, are you?" Renzo demanded from her. "Don't tell me I raised my daughter to be so obtuse,"
She was taken aback by his sudden anger, looking at him in confusion, not understanding what he meant.
"Dio mio," He shook his head. "He is the best thing that could have happened to anyone and he happened to you, and you want to leave him because you just want to play the blame game?" He demanded.
"Excuse me, but-" She began to defend herself before her father's next words had the words dying down in her throat.
"He prevented me from killing myself," Renzo looked at her disapprovingly. "He could have very easily let me go and off myself so that he gets what he had aimed for from the beginning of this merger and he didn't. For you."
"He spent the entire fucking night sitting with me and talking to me about it all. He helped me put all the pieces together and he bore with my tantrums and breakdowns and he gave me a place in his home for whenever I needed one." Renzo shook his head with a humorless chuckle. "Every morning, evening, and night he comes to me. He drives to my manor every day just to ensure that I have eaten. He ensured I took care of myself. For you."
"He helped me get better, Nicole. He took me to a psychiatrist and sat through the sessions with me no matter how busy he might have been, and he sat through countless sleepless nights with me to ensure that I didn't do anything rash. He allowed me the opportunity to go to Greece and visit your mom's hometown just so that I could ground myself again. He got me her wedding ring! A feat even I couldn't pull off!" Renzo took out the box from his pocket and opened it to show the white gold and diamond band newly polished and safely nestled in the cushions. "He has gone to hell and back to ensure my health. For you. And he has been fighting day and night to keep you two together, but you're just succumbing to the mind's need to blame and letting the best thing slip through your fingers. Don't do this to yourself, Nicole. You both love each other to death, don't do this, pumpkin. I beg of you,"
"You two need each other, Nicole," Mr. Lombardi sighed softly, moving closer to hold her hands in his own as she jumped at the contact before looking up at his eyes. "He will die if you leave him, pumpkin, don't do this to yourself, please,"
Chapter XXXIX: Grief
Grief is not spontaneous or random.
It's the smallest things which set it off: the reminiscing of the past, minor similarities between the deceased and a stranger, or just an old face which reminds you of them.
It's always the smallest things which have the biggest impact.
You feel your heartache like someone is squeezing it from inside your chest, your entire face gets warm, and your stomach drops to your feet; you are unable to stand right because you feel light-headed and your knees are shaking. Your hand trembles and your head pounds. A lump forms in your throat, your vision blurs as the tears spring forth and the next thing you know, you're crying because of how much their presence meant to you, because you see that look on the faces of the people around you, and you can see how lifeless their eyes look, how much pain they are in by the monotony of their features, and it hurts, knowing that neither you, nor ones you love, will ever recover from a loss as big as this one.
That.
That is what grief is.
And Nicole couldn't bring herself to cope with it. She couldn't manage to pull herself together, and in hopes to reduce the pain, she slept. Sometimes she slept through entire days, sometimes she slept a few hours before waking up and walking around for a bit and then hitting the sack again. Every time Salvatore tried to talk to her, she would just shake her head and tell him she didn't want to talk about it.
Her husband was growing increasingly concerned for her health, and not only her, but since Mr. Lombardi's stay, he has men update him on the man's mental health and his status. Along with the grief of his wife and father-in-law, his sister hadn't shown any improvement, and his family was practically imprisoned at his estate. The Mafia Boss far too paranoid to let them out now – especially after the attack on the Lombardi
manor. And then there was his best friend, constantly urging him to talk to his wife, but what he didn't understand was that she didn't want to and instead opted to spend her time sleeping.
Having been sleeping in the nursery, he shifted the baby monitor units, keeping the parent unit with him while the baby unit was placed on Nicole's bedside so that Salvatore knew whenever she would awake from a nightmare.
Even now, Nicole awoke with a startled scream, her eyes jumping open as the scene seared behind her lids. Exhaling shakily, she shifted onto her back, rubbing her forehead with trembling fingers before swallowing the lump in her throat. Shuffling out of the covers, she stood on the cold wooden floor, hearing the bedroom door open as limited light pooled in.
"What's the matter?" Her husband's voice asked softly from the hallway in the dark, Nicole shaking her head before realizing he wouldn't be able to see her.
"Nothing, go back to sleep," She muttered dismissively before making her way to the washroom in the dark.
She had been washing her face when the washroom door slid open to show her husband in the doorway in rumples shorts and his t-shirt haphazard and his hair standing in all odd angels. Without saying anything, he walked over behind her. Gauging her reaction as he wrapped his arms around her waist and holding her to his chest as she let him hold her this time, her gaze fixated on the porcelain sink.
"Baby," Salvatore nuzzled into her neck. "You're making me worried,"
"There is nothing to be worried about," Nicole found herself muttering, gently caressing his hands over her stomach.
"You've been sleeping all the time-"
"-I'm just tired-"
"-You have nightmares-"
"-Everyone has the occasional bad dreams, Salvatore,"
"You don't eat-"
"-I'm not hungry-"
"-Baby, maybe it's not normal," Her husband stated, letting her go when she pulled away from him, turning to be facing him with her lips pressed into a thin line and her eyes burning with unshed tears. "Maybe it's worse than what we think?
"It isn't,"
"Maybe we should get it checked up to confirm? Hmm?" He inquired softly, going to reach out for her hand but retreated it back when she pulled away before he could.
With her jaw clenched, she began walking away but gasped when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.
"Leave me,"
"Let's just talk about this,"
"I don't want to-!"
"-Baby, you don't want to do anything!" He retorted as she glared up at him, watching him exhale and shake his head. "You worry about me, right?"
"Of course," She scoffed in disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Just like that, I worry about you, and I have every right to be concerned about you right now, so don't try and pass it off as nothing,"
"Don't worry, Salvatore," She muttered bitterly. "I'm not you," With that said she walked away from him, relieved to know that he didn't pull her back.
Sighing, Nicole got under the covers, wrapping herself in the duvet and settling down to sleep. No soon had her head hit the pillow when the bedroom lights were turned on, forcing her to groan at the brightness before gasping when Salvatore forced her to sit up.
"I will take out an hour, hell, I'll take out three hours if I have to and I will go see a psychiatrist about all of the shit that has been going on," He told her, Nicole looking at him with surprise as her heart felt hope for a moment, instantly shriveling with his next words. "Only if you agree to go to a therapist as well,"
"No," She stated simply.
"Then I won't go to a psychiatrist either,"
Instantly Nicole clenched her jaw, knowing that the only reason she had been drugging him was so that he deals with all the emotional turmoil that has been going on. And now the condition he had for going was that she gets help as well.
"Why do you have to be so fucking manipulative?" She demanded in irritation, getting out of the bed and walking a couple of paces away from him.
"You can be as pissed about this as you want, but the only way I will agree to see a psychiatrist is if you do too,"
"And I don't want to! You're forcing me to do this!"
"And you weren't?" He demanded from her, Nicole glaring at him at the response.
"Fuck you,"
"Please, I've heard worse," Salvatore scoffed, shaking his head and moved away from her as she watched him walk past her and into his closet, returning a minute later with a coat over his clothes and a scarf around his neck, his gloves in his hand.
"Where are you going?" She asked, eyeing him uncertainly.
"You clearly don't want my help, much less do you want to talk to me, and so I might as well leave,"
"And where will you go at 3:40 in the morning?" Nicole raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Hell," He stated bluntly and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him with a bang as she winced at the sound, stomping her foot in frustration and letting out a shriek at how infuriating he was.
Parking in front of the little café, Salvatore made his way to the side of the building and pushed open the door, making his way up the stairs before finally arriving at the apartment at the top. Using his spare key, he entered the silent and dark interior, switching on the lights and putting on a kettle to boil before making his way into the dark bedroom. Grabbing the duvet he pulled it off the inhabitant in one swift motion as he cried out at the lack of warmth.
"What the fuck?" The American slurred sleepily, fumbling around him for the lamp.
"Get up," Salvatore stated coldly and began making his way back to the lounge with the duvet in hand.
"Asshole," Stephan called after him as the Italian rolled his eyes in exasperation, dropping the blanket onto the couch looking out the window. Going back to the kitchen, he poured a cup of tea before settling on the couch, watching Stephan drag his feet behind him as he flopped onto the upholstery, wrapping himself in the blanket and taking the mug Salvatore held out to him.
"What?" The American asked him once he had half the mug of tea.
"She is so fucking infuriating!" Salvatore burst. "She has the fucking audacity to drug me after I told her I didn't want the pills. And then I send her to get away, and now when she's suffering through PTSD, I'm the one who's wrong to suggest a fucking therapist, but drugging me behind my back is just the epitome of perfect! And when I'm telling her I will go to that stupid psychiatrist if she gets help for her PTSD, I'm the bad guy!" He exclaimed, his voice rising with every successive word until he was speaking in Italian, Stephan not understanding a single word that escaped his mouth.
"You feel guilty," Stephan started with a leisurely sip from his cup, looking up at the unflinching glare Salvatore directed his way.
"Have you not been listening to what I'm saying?" He demanded through clenched teeth.
"I have been listening," The American nodded. "But not to this," He caught Salvatore's lips in his fingers before lowering his hand to the Italian's chest.
"I've been listening to this,"
"You're a fucking Ph.D. in Computer Science, not bullshit,"
"I'm a Ph.D. in Computer Science, not psychiatry," He retorted. "You come into my apartment at 4 in the fucking morning and expect me to listen to you ramble like a bitch and then put up with your bullshit without even having listened to me? Sorry, Salvi baby, if you want that, go talk to a fucking wall, since you clearly don't want an outsider's perspective." He continued to sip the tea, reveling in the warmth that spread through his chest.
Looking up at Salvatore, Stephan watched him sit on his couch with a clenched jaw and his arms crossed over his chest as he glared out the window before him. Exhaling heavily, the mafia boss rubbed a hand over his forehead before sinking into the couch.
"Want to know why I think you feel guilty?" He dipped the tea bag into the water. "It's because you feel responsible for what Nicole went through. Your mind is going on about with questions like "what if I hadn't sent her away?", or "what if I
went and got her the moment you decided to?", and "I could have prevented it" and all that poisonous nonsense."
"Let me answer these 'what if's for you. For a start, no matter when you would have gone to get her, you could not have prevented Rhea from dying. Jayson was aiming for her and no matter what you could do, she would have died. And even if you had gotten Nicole that very moment, she would still be like this, because just like you, she is feeling guilty about the fact that she hated her mother for not knowing any better and her PTSD is stemming from that guilt, she's beating herself up about the fact that she froze up and didn't do anything. Just like you, she thinks herself responsible for her mother's death,"
"No matter what you would have done, you could not have prevented this," Stephan shook his head, looking at his best friend sitting quietly at the other end of the couch. "And because of that guilt, you are pushing her to get help, just like she pushed you. And now you're mad because she doesn't want to go to a therapist and cry about her guilt just like you didn't want to go to a psychiatrist and cry about this vendetta to an absolute stranger, and honestly, I can't blame neither her sentiments nor yours."
The American put away the finished cup of tea, snuggling into the blanket and staring at his best friend.
"So what do you think I should do?"
"Communication is key," He grinned as Salvatore let out a breathless chuckle at the words. "Get some hot chocolate, go to her and talk about it, ask her why not, and after that, you explain your reasoning if you can convince her then all well and good, if not, then you go to a psychiatrist. A lot of times, it is overlooked that maybe she's scared and after seeing that you're fine, she would herself ask to see one."
Nodding, he stood from his place on the couch.
"Thanks, Stephan,"
"Anytime, Salvi," He yawned behind his hand. "Just not at 4 am in the morning,"
Since all the cafes were still closed, Salvatore made two mugs of hot chocolate in the kitchen before going upstairs to his room. Momentarily struggling with the door, he managed to get it open before closing it behind him. He found Nicole to be sitting on the floor with her back to the sofa and her knees pulled up, looking at him in silence and took the mug offered. Putting down his own drink, Salvatore took off his coat and scarf before coming to sit beside her, Hades instantly bounding over to his seated figure and resting his head on his lap.