His Discarded Bride: Lied to from birth. Manipulated into marriage. Does love stand a chance?

by Joy, Melita

  “No. Thankyou I think I will be fine,” Leilani wasn’t sure if she was supposed to tip or what to do. “I’m sorry I don’t have any cash, and I’m not sure if I'm rude by not tipping,” she admitted.

  “Do not worry. You will not be expected to tip during your stay here. Mr Favalli has ensured a generous tip already which will be divvied among the staff that assist you during your stay,” she smiled and left Leilani with her new swimwear.

  Leilani couldn’t understand why Renato was bothering, she’d left him, and he was no longer obligated to stay married to her. She didn’t need his pity, and she would tell him so. She dialled his number, but his phone was switched off, calling the apartment the staff advised that he was not home. Not wanting to leave a desperate trail of calls she undressed and headed for the pool. He was uncontactable and clearly not all that worried about her. Reminding herself that she meant nothing to him, she plunged into the warm water.

  Leilani stayed submerged for as long as she could hold her breath. The garbled silence, complementing her apathetic state. She swam to the surface and breathed in the heady scent of the surrounding fragrant jasmine bushes. She bobbed around in the water until she grew restless and lifted herself up onto the ledge. Towel dried she sat in a pool chair and tried to relax. There was a call that she’d been putting off but if she wanted to start healing she knew she had to make it. “Hello mum.”

  “What do you want?” her mum was angry that much was apparent.

  There was obviously not going to be any pleasantries. Her mum didn’t with to attend her wedding and had made her feelings known regarding her dislike for the Favalli men. “I want the truth, who is my father,” she demanded.

  “You know who your father is so what is this all about?” her mother asked, her voice peaking higher.

  “Mum, Vittorio had my DNA tested, and I’m not his. Please just be honest with me this once,” she begged.

  There was a small pause and the sound of her mother’s breath expelling, “Your father was a nobody a farmer boy,” she huffed.

  “I want to know all of it. It’s my life story; surely I have a right to know who he is and how to contact him,” Leilani was furious with the lies that never ceased. She expected nothing less from her stepfather but her mother, it hurt that their relationship was unravelling like this.

  “We’ll talk when you come home,” Rosa insisted.

  “I want to talk now,” she volleyed.

  “That’s too bad because this isn’t just about you. I did everything I could do, to raise you well, and you can’t say you were hard done-by. Now if you want to talk to me then come home and preferably without your puppet of a husband,” she scorned.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Leilani all but shouted back.

  “It means that he was taken in and raised to do Vittorio’s bidding when it should have been you, and I am living there,” her mother was worked up in a fury.

  “But I was never Vittorio’s so what you are saying makes no sense at all,” she flung back. Her mother was either losing her mind or there was still more to unravel.

  She thought she heard the sound of her mother crying, but stoically she said goodbye and told Leilani not to call back.

  Leilani was flabbergasted, what a mess this was all turning out to be. If only she’d been told the truth from the beginning, there’d be no need for all this pain and hurt. As much as she wanted to know about her father she knew that now was not the best time to see her mother. Once her mother knew of her pending divorce and saw the state she was in, she’d insist on putting her nose back into her life. Leilani had become independent long ago and refused to take that backward step.

  With the relaxing benefits of the pool completely disintegrated, she decided to walk and clear her mind. Leilani had heard only good things about the streets of Venice. It would mean a short boat trip to the mainland, but it would be worth it to lose herself for an hour or two. The picturesque streets nearly all lead to small pedestrian bridges. Standing on a bridge, she watched happy couples floating beneath in their gondolas.

  The activity had become quite commercialised with one gondola preceding another, but it was still romantic. City streets were filled with small boats and gondolas. She would have loved to ride in one with Renato. She couldn’t imagine him lying there though, no he would need to be in control, and he’d be the one steering the gondola. He’d also take them to less mainstream water allies and ensure a semblance of privacy. She felt the warm salty tear roll down her cheek, swiped at is and continued walking, thankful for the oversized sunglasses she had remembered to wear.

  Renato and Vittorio made their presence known, ringing the bell and tapping on the door with impatience. Even though they had travelled in comfort neither man had slept and yet they were both propelled into action by their individual internal motivators.

  Rosa opened the door and let the two men in, “You have a lot to answer for Vittorio,” she stated vehemently.

  Sitting in the modest suburban house, on outdated and well-worn furniture Renato had to wonder what the woman had been squandering her money on throughout all the years. It was not his place to ask, but surely Vittorio would. Nothing got past the man, and this was no little thing.

  “How have you been?” Vittorio asked Rosa to which she responded with an arching of the eyebrow.

  Renato was surprised that Vittorio was engaging in small talk at this stage of the game.

  “Very well as you can clearly see,” she swept her hand around in a sarcastic gesture. The house was immaculate, spotless but undoubtedly small and worthless.

  “I want to ask,” Renato was interrupted before he got to finish his sentence.

  “You’ll have your chance. I haven’t seen Rosa in over twenty-five years,” Vittorio went on not taking his eyes off her. “You are still a beautiful woman,” he said with a slight softening of his usual gruff voice.

  “You’re a fool Vittorio if you think you can attempt to flirt with me after everything that you’ve done,” she rejected his pleasantries.

  “Ah Rosa, you still have that spark that can ignite a man into flames. They don’t make them like that anymore boy,” he was a devil, and Renato wasn’t sure what angle was being played, but there was always an angle.

  “You are a fool Vittorio, and I know why you are here and you can cut the crap,” she stated without any eloquence.

  “Why lie to me for all these years Rosa? You played me for a fool,” he admitted.

  “How does it feel Vittorio?” Rosa was clearly worked up.

  “I loved you all those years ago; I did everything possible to support you,” he was anguished. Renato could hear it in his tone and struggled between sitting quietly and sneaking out to give them space. He stayed as he wanted to hear the truth.

  “You never loved me,” Rosa became shrill. “You dangled me with your sweet promises, but you never had any intention of leaving your wife. Then when you found out we were to have a child you housed me in servants quarters like a lowly employee,” she raged.

  “The child wasn’t even mine,” he retaliated. “You criticize my lack of commitment but where was your honour in pretending that you were pregnant with my baby,” he demanded.

  “Does it hurt Vittorio to find out that I lied to you? Is that what this is all about your stinking pride?” she blazed. “Why else would you travel halfway across the world to see me? You already know the truth to your question, so you don’t need me to confirm it.”

  “What of the money Rosa? While you were busy teaching me a lesson did you think it was okay to swindle me for as much money as you could? I could take you to court and sue you until even a tent would seem like a mansion to you,” he threatened.

  Rosa looked angry, but there was no comprehension of what he was talking about, “What money?” she wanted to know.

  “You won’t get away with it. You have no credibility at all Rosa. You’ve lied to your daughter, to me to the world, and now you lie to cover up your extor
tion,” Vittorio was standing and for his age he still cut an imposing figure.

  Not in the least bit afraid Rosa stood up to Vittorio, “I have never taken what isn’t mine,” she declared passionately.

  “I have all your letters Rosa, every one of them. Your pleas for money, first for the house then private school fees and the list goes on, shall I remind you? Vittorio, I need money for clothes for our daughter, to provide her a lifestyle that she deserves, a car and lessons when she became of age. I even paid her university fees in full on day one of her attending,” he was worked up.

  “That’s a lie. I’ve never sent you a request for money and nor have I seen a cent of your money over the years,” she continued to deny.

  “Your lies are useless at this point. I have the transaction receipts that prove your deceit,” he ended abruptly.

  “Well I want to see this proof,” she insisted.

  Vittorio raised his brows apparently not expecting Rosa to continue down this path. Phone in hand, he tapped and swiped at the screen until he had a receipt visible. “Take a look then,” he commanded.

  “What bank account did you put this money into?” she asked not familiar with this type of receipt. Rosa and her husband still used a passport style bank account.

  Vittorio pointed out the relevant information and Rosa paled taking a seat. “You haven’t been paying any money to me,” she had quietened down considerably.

  “The proof is non-refutable Rosa,” he returned.

  “You haven’t paid a cent to me,” she reiterated. “You have I believe been paying my husband,” she looked up at Vittorio.

  “You are one. Whether it went straight to you or to him it all ended up in this household,” he wasn’t letting her get away with it that easy. “Rosa, it’s time to start telling the truth. Renato, and I have come a long way to hear it, and we are not leaving until you do so,” he sat back down and waited for her story to unfold.

  Leilani had been in Venice for two days, and she still managed to get herself totally lost in the narrow streets of the city. It mattered little to her as she felt safe cocooned in the throng of happy tourists. While the uplifting vibe didn’t pull her out of her despair, she felt no worse. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone not even to ask for directions so she continued to walk searching for the dock where the boat would be waiting for her to take her back to Guidecca.

  Renato had not bothered to contact her at all during this time, reinforcing that their marriage was over. He had no use for her that much was evident yet he was thoughtful from a distance. Since arriving she had taken all meals in her room and last night when she got back to her suite she was prepared to do the same. She walked into the sound of soft, soothing music, fresh, fragrant flowers on the table, delicate handmade chocolates, strawberries and champagne were all awaiting her with a note. She unfolded the piece of paper and read, ‘An attempt to bring your lovely smile back to life, Renato,’ he signed his name boldly. His kindness only upset her further.

  She would rather hate him and didn’t understand what he was hoping to achieve. He wasn’t the sort to do nice things without reason. The doorbell rang and her dinner that she hadn’t ordered arrived. “I’m sorry, but I hadn’t ordered my dinner yet,” she explained.

  “This is from your husband,” he smiled setting up quickly he asked if there was anything else she needed and then took his leave.

  The food looked sensational, a fresh Caprese salad with the largest ball of milky buffalo mozzarella she’d ever seen. There were fresh pasta and seafood and an assortment of vegetables and last but not least an enormous bowl of fresh cherries.

  Leilani picked at the food pushing most of it around her plate. Even the buffalo cheese could not tempt her appetite that had been severely lacking over the past few days. Finally, she took the cherries, the glossy red baubles bursting with a juicy flavour she could tolerate. She turned on the television, curled up on a sofa lounge and picked at the fruit.

  She ate the fruit mindlessly and tried not to read into Renato’s gestures. He’d picked all of her favourite food which would have been very considerate and romantic if he’d had feelings for her. All it demonstrated was that he was observant and possibly feeling a bit remorseful. She had been an incredibly pathetic sight when he last saw her.

  Cringing, she concentrated on the television once again. Another entertainment news episode was airing, and it appeared the world had moved on with the Favalli’s getting no word of a mention. Instead, the story focused on an upcoming awards night and last year’s faux pas fashion mistakes. Leilani fell asleep ten minutes into the show her mind exhausted.

  When she woke up, it was to her phone ringing and her mother crying on the other end. “Leilani, I’m sorry, for so many things,” the words tore out brokenly. “I need to tell you everything.”

  Leilani was having trouble understanding but still tried to console her mother. “It’s alright mum,” she calmed.

  “It’s not alright. I only tried to do what was best for you, but I hurt us all in the end,” she admitted. “I have a few things to do here but I’m coming to you,” she was trying to gain control of her sobs.

  “Mum, it’s too expensive. We can talk on the phone when you are ready,” she supplied an alternative.

  “No, it’s alright. Vittorio is going to organise my trip,” her mum admitted.

  Leilani was stumped, her mother accepting charity off Vittorio. “I don’t understand,” she prompted.

  “It’s very messy, a complicated story. I’ll tell you in person. Only I should let you know that I may have misjudged your husband’s intentions based on my prejudice of his father,” she stated.

  “It doesn’t matter, our marriage has already ended,” Leilani told her mother the flat truth.

  “You are upset,” he mother was quick to pick up on the tremble in her voice.

  “I’ll be okay,” she knew she would be, she just needed a bit of time.

  "Don’t do anything rash,” he mother urged. “Talk to Renato, the two of you made a commitment you should try to fix things and honour it,” she prompted.

  Confused by her mother’s change of heart they ended the call without further explanation as Leilani’s phone was running out of battery. Her mother’s voice had rung with pain and sincerity, and Leilani hoped that their reconciliation would strengthen their relationship once again it would all depend on her mother’s honesty. The secret of her parentage had hurt her deeply, but Leilani could forgive, she just needed her mother to demonstrate an understanding of how important finding her father was. The shroud of lies had cut her first when she found out that she was not Franco’s daughter and then worse finding out that Vittorio was also not her parent.

  She absorbed that thought. The truth was that she didn’t mind that neither man was her father. She was more cut that she now meant nothing to Renato. She’d fallen for her husband in the short time that they had been together, and all the mess of her parentage was taking a back seat to her lovesick heart. It was about time she picked herself up and took charge of her life. Leilani couldn’t expect anyone to love her in her current state when she couldn’t even face herself. It was time to go back to Rome.

  Renato and Vittorio landed back in Rome. Vittorio had insisted on Renato taking something to help him sleep. “You are going to need it,” he insisted, knowing Renato was going in search of Leilani the minute they landed.

  The past couple of days had been enlightening. Many misunderstandings of the past had culminated in unnecessary pain for so many. Renato was happy for Vittorio and Rosa; they had been able to clear up a lot of cobwebs and tentatively renew a friendship. Rosa though still had a lot of explaining to do with her daughter, but that was up to the two of them to sort out.

  He had his own issues to face. He was jetting all over the world to understand his wife, sending her gifts to cheer her up and putting all his resources at her disposal to ease her pain. Renato had to stop and think why he was bothering. If he wanted it, he had
an out. The problem was he didn’t want an exit route. It was unthinkable. He was in love with Leilani, and he wanted to stay married to her. Not because he had to but because he wanted to.

  After the way he’d treated her, forcing her hand into marriage, he knew that she would be relieved to see the back of him. He needed a plan to get her back, but he knew that she would accept nothing less than total honesty. The problem he faced was that he couldn’t imagine how she would ever trust him again. He had lost his integrity with her, and now it would take a miracle to convince her that he loved her and had no ulterior motive to stay together as man and wife

  .

  CHAPTER eighteen

  Leilani was out on the terrace contemplating what to do. She was sick and tired of the miserable woman she’d become. While she may have lacked confidence at times in her life, she’d never been a doormat for others to wipe their dirty feet on and discard when it became tatty.

  She was an independent woman who up until recently had lived on her own and supported a modest lifestyle by working with most other people she knew. Leilani might not have had a lot of spare cash, but then she had never actually required it. Her favourite activities didn’t cost much at all; she liked to read preferably by a lake under the shade of a lovely willow or jacaranda tree. Now and then she would invite one of her close friends to her place. Leilani was no socialite, but she enjoyed the company of a couple of friends whom she’d known since high school. They would see each other two or three times a year. When they did meet, they had so much to talk about, and the night would fly past in a blur. Their visits always ending with each of them stating that they must get together more often, knowing that they wouldn’t.

  With alarm, she wondered what her friends would be thinking. The past couple of months had flown by and no doubt they would have heard of her wedding. She picked up the phone and called.