by Pamela Ann
I had never been so sure in my life.
“Do it,” I replied, sealing my fate.
Sette
It took perseverance and complete discipline¸ but gradually I had come out of my hiding, unhurriedly breathing in life and letting the outside world back into my apathetic existence. For an entire month, I had to crawl out of my damned hole and live life the way I had used to.
In a way, it was liberating, but there was still that side of me that would always hanker for Kim and the baby. Nonetheless, I had made a decision to make life for her and the baby better, and it was one choice I knew I must keep. If loving them from afar was the only way I could do it, then I had to stand by it.
Against everything I had decided and my own will, I went ahead with the surgery. It could probably be due to the fact that another branch of my DNA was thriving with life in Kimberly’s womb, giving me a reason to fight for life.
The procedure took hours to finish with the help of four excellent neurosurgeons working to fix me up again. Normally, I would be against such madness and would argue that I needed only one, which was Vittorio, to do the job alone. However, the moment my father insisted on getting the best doctors to help and supervise for whatever unknown emergencies inside the operating room, I knew I had to appease him. I was his only child, his sole heir, so I didn’t want to add more stress on his already uncontainable blood pressure.
There was a sliver of hope in the back recesses of my mind, hoping that she would show up the moment she found out about me getting the procedure. And no matter how much I kept telling myself that I didn’t care if she showed herself or not, it hurt to realize how little I mattered to her on the days that passed without a word from her.
She had campaigned for this operation from the start, but I supposed I wasn’t all too relevant in her life any longer. Her absence was felt, and each day, it gave me another reason to keep on living, to keep on moving and live the life I’d had before I had met her, but with a mellowed out recklessness.
As a result, I lavished in the spotlight, the adored lifestyle, and seeking the company of my old friends, who had no idea of what I had gone through with Kimberly. She was my best kept secret, I supposed.
When Andrés addressed the issue at one point, I had to shut him down by telling him the woman was married, and since the baby would basically be taking Kimberly’s married name, I had no legal right to him or her. Besides, getting involved in such triviality would be too messy. Not only that, I wasn’t ready to have a kid at this point in my life.
He had given me a shrewd look, as if he doubted whatever lies I had fed him, but said no more. There was something about the way he nodded. It was like he knew the battle I was going through, so I need not explain myself. I was grateful for it since it was a hardship talking about it.
Thinking about her and the baby was difficult enough to do; could one imagine breaking it down to someone? It would kill me inside. It didn’t help that I was counting down the months until she gave birth. Not to mention, I didn’t even know the gender of the baby. I supposed it was safe to be in the dark about these things, because if I had found out the gender, I wouldn’t trust myself. I would get too attached—too everything—and I would most likely end up going to the baby store and buying every single thing that I saw in sight.
Every single time I thought about the baby, there was this deep-seated longing inside of me, an ache that kept gnawing at my heart.
The nights were lethally nostalgic. They triggered my weakest points. Therefore, to remedy this situation, I mostly went out at night, finding myself surrounded by people I trusted. I hadn’t thus far gotten involved with any women, though, because I wasn’t sure if I could perform. It wasn’t as if my cock had a malfunction, but my mind and the way it was wired for some insufferable reason made it to where I couldn’t get the engine roaring with other women. But have her enter my mind at any given hour and my cock would stir without a problem.. Therefore, I left it be, not craving sex but merely other people’s company as I slowly built my confidence in myself and my resistance to all the bullshit this world shoved at me.
I was a wounded man who was pretending that everything was perfect. It was a wearisome façade that I had to keep on for the world to see. However, I believed someday it wouldn’t be a mask anymore, that someday I would be that carefree again.
In the next three weeks, I would be back on the racetracks amongst friends for a charity event. I had thought it a brilliant idea to slowly introduce myself back into the media.
That was one aspect of my life I could control. I had to relish it.
It was time to get back what I had lost.
Otto
Kimberly
It was before nine in the morning while I was making myself a ham and cheese sandwich when I felt the baby kick for the first time. Immediately, I tensed in sudden awe and surprise as my hand gently pressed against the spot where it had moved against my tummy. After a few seconds, there it was again, kicking in excitement, as if greeting me, as if letting me know he was alive and well.
Yes, it was a he … a baby boy. I was so overjoyed with the news that I cried for the entire day after learning the baby’s gender. It wasn’t an “it” any longer; he had a gender, forming into a beautiful creature who would greet me in the next few months. It was exhilarating as well as daunting, but I had never treasured anything more in my life than this precious life that was budding inside my belly.
Then, out of the blue, a random thought occurred to me. I had this sudden urge to seek Luca and share this precious moment with him. For weeks, I had known he would be at a charity event in Monza, so I had no doubt he would be there all day since the festivities for such things normally lasted until the wee hours of the morning. And, from what I had seen on the tabloids, he had gone back to his old ways.
He seemed happy enough, but rather much more serious than before. The easy, gorgeous smiles were few and far between these days. I supposed I had contributed to a lot of his sadness. What he had demanded and wished was something I couldn’t give him, and after I had learned a contract had been drawn up specifically for the baby’s benefit, I knew I was in trouble. I could only be thankful he had grown a conscience and withdrawn everything.
There were papers that still needed to be read, reviewed, and signed, but I hadn’t opened them yet. From what the lawyer had told me, it was a contract of how much the baby and myself were entitled to each month, and in the case of Luca’s death, the baby was legally the rightful heir of his family’s empire. It was all too much to take in, so I had decided to keep it somewhere safe, and I would get to it once I was ready, maybe when the baby was older.
According to the lawyer, there was no hurry, and I had no timeframe as to when I should submit it, so I could take all the time I needed to let it all sink in. I appreciated that kind gesture. I didn’t want to think about taking money from him, let alone when he was dead. Our baby might, though; it was his father, after all.
Sighing, I pushed away the thought of Luca and the newly made sandwich all in one gesture, seeming more convinced that I had to see him in Monza. It was risky, but there was something urgent that propelled me to go see him. Although it was odd and irrational, I knew I must, or I wouldn’t stop obsessing.
With my mind set on one task, I gathered what I needed before taking my old yet reliable Citroën that had seen better days. With butter cookies, Aranciata Pellegrino, and a few bottles of water, I was set to go for my drive to see Luca. Anton would probably wonder where I was, so I better not forget to text him when I arrived at my destination, hopefully in less than six hours’ time, depending on traffic.
It was drastic—I realized that—but it couldn’t be helped. The last time I had seen him … Well, that hadn’t gone the way I had planned it, and somehow everything seemed to have evaporated between us.
This event was his first after he had bravely gone through the operation, and I wanted to see him in action. Upon learning he had gone throug
h with the surgery, I had often found myself in the hospital corridors, wanting to visit him. I never had the courage to see him, though, until now.
I hadn’t had a clue about racing, nor was interested in the sport until I had learned what Luca did for a living. Our relationship, if that was how one could consider the fourteen-day affair, was merely spent in and out of the bedroom, tiny cafes, and secluded restaurants. It wasn’t until after I had decided to leave him that I had learned who he was. From then on, I scraped whatever I could about him from the media and all the blogging outlets online.
Clearing my throat, I pressed the white glass coated button before giving it a command. “Directions to Monza, Italy, please.” With the use of Siri, the famed AI of Apple phones, I hoped to get to my intended destination, which was apparently in between Milan and Brianza. Since I hadn’t really been around these areas, I thought it great that I got to see another side of Italy, a country that had begun to root into my heart.
There was just something so different about the people here. I had never been in a place where the people were born proud of their history and culture. From their everlasting faith to their brilliant cars, they could talk about it all day long. It was endearing to be surrounded by people who believed the true meaning of home derived from the heart of a kitchen instead of a microwave. It was shocking to know that most people there didn’t even believe in such a thing, because they liked their food to be made from scratch. I couldn’t blame them. The food culture there was literally heaven on earth. It was the best I had ever had. Sure, my palette might not be all that sophisticated, but I knew good, amazing food, and they had it there.
In the very beginning, I was overwhelmed by it all. However, after months of living there, I felt as though I had become more familiar with it. I was more like a visiting cousin—close enough but not permanent. There was never a day I regretted temporarily moving there, even though things had panned out in such a crazy state. I still loved every single moment in the country. The society’s enthusiasm, its momentum, and their utter passion for little joys in life, such as coffee and the intricate process of how to make and take it as such, all made me smile. It was all an experience to take in, and I was still taking it all in months later.
The spur of the moment road trip took much of my enthusiasm and energy, but by some miracle, I thankfully managed to get to the infamous location. It was a taxing ordeal; however, I knew it would be worth it. Besides, I had always dreamed of seeing Luca doing his thing. He had kept this part of his life from me, and I was curious as to how good he really was. I mean, everyone who was a fan of Grand Prix there in Italy knew their dashingly handsome driver. It wasn’t as though I was questioning it. I just would be more convinced to see it with my own eyes.
Approaching the ticketing section with “BIGLIETTE” written across it, I patiently waited in line, hoping I would get to sit soon since my back was beginning to have a pinching pain that had appeared below my spine for the past month or so. I knew my body was accommodating the baby, but goodness was pregnancy always going to be about a constant state of back pain, odd tasting food, iffy about certain smells, and the appalling acid reflux? What happened to blissful, glowing pregnancy? I supposed I was one of the unchosen ones.
Horrendous pregnancy symptoms aside, I couldn’t wait to hold my baby boy in my arms. I knew I shouldn’t think about it, but it couldn’t be helped. Ever since I had found out about the sex, I had often found myself wondering what the baby would look like and how much Luca’s genes would play a part in it.
It was hopeless to think such fanciful thoughts about how much I wished things were different for me. On nights I couldn’t sleep, though, I would let my mind run, thinking about Luca and how happy he had made me in those two short weeks together.
My mind was beginning to wander when it was my turn at the ticketing line. A nice, young man greeted me with a smile and the typical Italian charisma.
One more thing that took me aback about being there was how flirtation was taken to another level. It took a long while to get used to, but once I had, it no longer bothered me.
My eyes scanned the sections that were all written in Italian, leaving me confused as to what and where I needed to be seated. My knowledge of the language was still limited to casual conversations and not reading.
Fidgeting a little, I made a small smile. “Can you, um, put me where it’s the closest to the drivers?”
He instantly typed something into his computer. “That’s six hundred forty Euros, signorina.”
I tensed, perplexed at what I had just heard. “Excuse me? Did you say six hundred forty?” I clarified, aghast at the unreasonable price. It would damage what little savings I had.
The young man barely shrugged. “Si. That’s the price of being that close to the drivers. It’s normale.”
Dammit. The price was a freaking arm and a leg, but since I was already there, what the hell. Might as well do it or I might never get the chance again once the baby arrived.
Ever so reluctant, I pulled out my debit card, holding my breath as I handed him a huge chunk of my savings.
Moments later, I was sitting in my expensive seat as colorful banners of car logos waved across the stadium. The air was heavily charged with unprecedented energy and wild excitement. Then the wild became ballistic, morphing into a deafening sound the moment one of the star racers came into view, completely taking my breath away.
Dressed in his signature Formula One white gear, embellished with logos and the country he represented, he looked beyond compelling. The man I knew had transformed into the man he was known for—Luca di Medici, the playboy, the rogue billionaire, an icon. He was everything Italy adored and praised.
Seeing him in such grandeur and optimum prime, I felt a surge of pride watching him effortlessly win the crowd. He was beautiful, enigmatic, and utterly out of my league.
While I eagerly watched the man whom I had loved from afar in his own element, there was a different kind of energy about him in the arena. It was as if he had been transformed into someone else. Gone was the Luca who was always seeking kisses, singing in the shower, and feeding me whenever he could.
Memory after memory played in my mind, flashing as if it were a movie, just as the overwhelming feeling that everything would forever remain in the past, like a ghost, untouchable, but I could feel its powerful presence.
That Luca was gone. This man in the arena was a man who had nothing to do with me. I had known, of course, but now it hit me like a ton of bricks.
For about an hour, I sat bundled with nerves as I eagerly watched him get into his racing vehicle, praying like a maniac that he would be safe, that I wouldn’t have to helplessly witness him crashing into a wall of death as his car erupted in flames.
The black and white flag appeared, waving on the tower, and all the contenders roared their engines. The custom turbo charged engines zoomed past our very eyes. It moved unbelievably fast, making it feel surreal. It was exhilarating to watch, and everyone in the crowed felt the adrenaline-charged ambiance.
I held my breath until I knew he was safe and unscratched from any accidents. Luca came a close second, losing the title of first to his friend, whom I had never met, Jacques Bertrand.
After the race came the ceremonials, and witnessing him laughing with his friend Jacques, it was quite obvious how these races weren’t taken seriously. Their friendship came first.
I found myself grinning as I watched them exchange a manly, congratulatory hug. Then, all of sudden, they parted, and he was immediately swarmed with women, flirting and laughing with them. I felt out of place. What had I been thinking to come there? Had I really thought I could simply go down there, give him a “job well done” greeting, and then we would be back to speaking again? I couldn’t be friends with him. However, to be completely shut out of his life while carrying his baby was too much. Luca had stopped pursuing me, giving up the right to our child. I should do the same. If only my heart would listen...
After all this time, the bubbling jealousy that seized me still managed to shock me. I was married for crying out loud. It wasn’t my position to be jealous since I had given him up, and yet the wretched feeling remained as my eyes stayed glued on him, taking him in as my heart palpitated at the sight of him, gorgeous and utterly healthy. My consistent nightmares of him dying should be no more. My fears were squashed by witnessing him in such a fit condition.
I was happy for him; I truly was. At the same time, there was a small bit that still yearned for him, and I guessed I had to learn how to accept this unfortunate fate. There was going to be a part of me that would always cherish him, love him as though he was mine. That was what dreams were made of, and I should be glad to settle for that.
I left with the knowledge that the choices I had made were the right ones, that whatever little reservations I’d had and the guilt that had come with it should be invalid.
It would have been wiser if I had stayed overnight and found a hotel in Monza or somewhere in Milan and taken the wheel in the morning, but knowing how I was, I would more likely stay up late and rehash what had happened with Luca, slowly tormenting myself over and over again. Maybe it was my hormones that were making me make such drastic and hasty decisions. Whatever reasoning I had, it had to stop, and it had to stop that very instant.
There was no going back from this. So much had happened, and I had to stand against the painful choices I had made. As a result, I drove back to Rome, clarifying my mind as I shredded the tiny slivers of hope that were still lurking in the back crevices of my heart. The drive back wasn’t as bad as I had expected. With less traffic, I got home faster than anticipated, arriving in the wee hours of the morning.