Love, International Style

by Alexia Adams

  “You do not have to tell me more, tesoro mio.”

  “No, I want you to know it all. I just need a minute.”

  She pulled out of his arms and paced the room, obviously too emotional to sit still. She paused by the fireplace mantel and rearranged the photos symmetrically. Finally, she turned toward him, but her eyes didn’t meet his. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He knew their relationship would never progress unless she unburdened herself—trusted him with her secret. But it was hard to watch her build her walls again.

  Sophia took a deep breath as though bracing herself for rejection. “When Ben was seventeen, he fell in love with a girl at school. She was pretty but vain. Ben had spent the last five years looking after his younger siblings rather than playing football or hanging out with his peers, so he was a bit scrawny and quiet. This girl didn’t appreciate his sensitive nature or the incredible responsibility he’d shouldered without complaint. She rejected him outright, even mocking his attempts to win her heart. Worse, she made him the laughingstock of the school. Poor Ben, he was so dejected.” Sophia’s voice was soft and distant, lost in the past.

  “Was it the woman from Lake Como?” He was trying to work out where she fit into the story and why she had caused so much panic in Sophia, not once but twice.

  “No, I can’t even remember this girl’s name, and I don’t think I ever met her. But Ben couldn’t get over her. He followed her around the school and watched her from a distance everywhere she went. I guess finally he got the message that it was never going to happen. One day I came home from school to find Ben lying on the floor of the flat, unconscious. I couldn’t rouse him and was about to call for an ambulance when Paul came home. He’d seen it before and knew what to do. Ben had passed out from a drug overdose. When he came around, he begged us not to tell anyone. He said it had been a one-off thing and he’d learned his lesson and would never do drugs again … but he did.”

  Luca wanted to go to her, to take her in his arms, yet he sensed that she needed to stand alone to tell him. To exorcise whatever demons still haunted her by wandering about the room. She moved over to the window. Her face was reflected in the glass, her eyes lifeless, caught up in the memories. She cleared her throat and continued.

  “Ben started stealing, first from home, selling anything worth anything to get money for drugs—then from our neighbors and friends, the local shops. Paul and I tried to talk to him, but I was thirteen and Paul was sixteen. Ben had been acting like our parent for so long, he didn’t think he needed to listen to us. I think Mum knew something was wrong, although she never said anything. About six months after I found Ben on the floor from the overdose, the doorbell rang at six in the morning.

  “I knew it was the police—I thought they’d come to arrest Ben for stealing, and in a way I was relieved. I thought then maybe he would be able to get the help he desperately needed.

  “I answered the door and sure enough there were two police officers there. But instead of asking for Ben, they asked for Mum and Dad. I woke them up and then listened at the sitting room door as they told my parents that Ben had been found dead in a known drug house. Mum started crying … Dad couldn’t believe it, he had no idea that Ben had been into drugs. They left shortly after to identify the body. My aunt came and stayed with us while they were gone. I don’t think any one of us said a single word until they returned and confirmed the news. It was like being in a nightmare, where you can’t speak, can’t scream … but there was no waking up from this bad dream.”

  Sophia’s voice was quieter now and she returned to the fireplace, as though seeking out its warmth even though it wasn’t on. She wrapped her arms around herself and paused for a moment. He had to stop himself from getting off the sofa and pulling her down beside him—she seemed so distant, so lost. He ached for her.

  “I don’t remember the funeral, except feeling numb. Ben was the one I told when I was happy, sad, scared. People kept telling me I should cry, but I couldn’t. There was nobody there anymore to hold me and tell me it was going to get better.”

  Sophia shrugged, but her eyes were bleak.

  “For a few months after Ben’s death, Mum and Dad actually spent some time with us children. I think Dad even went on a school trip with James. Although I missed Ben dreadfully, it looked like things had at least changed for the better in our family. However, within six months it was back to normal. Dad was out at the pub, or with his mates, and Mum was either at work or over at Auntie’s house. Paul tried to take Ben’s place, but he didn’t have the same temperament. Ben had always been gentle and kind, Paul was more of a hothead. He had no patience, especially for Sarah, who cried even more now that Ben was gone.

  “Before long Paul was away from home as much as Dad and Mum. He was missing from school, too. Soon it was apparent he’d joined a gang. I tried to talk to him … he said he was attempting to find out who had sold Ben the bad drugs and once he did, he would leave the gang. I was scared, first Ben now Paul. I was still the cleaner, trying my best to look after Sarah and James.

  “About a year after Ben died, Paul came home late one night, covered in blood. I watched him through the crack in my bedroom door as he tried to clean himself up in the bathroom, across the hall. I guess he didn’t want to turn on any more lights in case he woke someone up, so he kept the door open and used the hall light that was always on, as Sarah was afraid of the dark. He made such a mess. Isn’t it strange how even a little blood can make such a big mess? I remember wondering how I was going to clean it up before Mum and Dad woke up.”

  Sophia was so remote now, he almost didn’t recognize her. It was as though she was telling someone else’s story. Luca didn’t know whether he should encourage her to go on, to get it all out, or stop her now and continue another time. She let out a long sigh, and continued.

  “Before I could even get up in the morning, the police were banging on the door. I didn’t answer it this time. I hid in my room. But the walls were paper thin, and I could hear everything. Paul was arrested for murdering one of the gang members and also another boy, who the police think witnessed the first killing, and was stabbed to keep him quiet. They had Paul’s image on CCTV camera, and with the blood all over his clothes and most of the bathroom it was a pretty open and shut case.

  “Our family was notorious and people even crossed the street to avoid us. School was a nightmare. Fortunately, Sarah and especially James were still a little too young to fully understand what was going on. There was talk that they would be taken into care, so Dad promised to be at home when they finished school and stay until at least Mum returned. A promise he actually kept. I think for the first time he realized what was happening to the family.”

  “What about you? How did you cope?” Luca found it almost impossible to get the words out. The distress Sophia had experienced certainly put the bullying he’d endured into perspective.

  “I no longer had any friends, so there was nothing to do but study and read. With the evidence against Paul, it took only six months to bring the case to trial. It was terrible, even harder than when Ben had died. I was a witness, having seen Paul come home covered in blood. I didn’t want to grass on my brother; however, I also believe in justice. If Paul took an innocent life, then he should undergo some form of punishment. I didn’t really care about the gang member; I figured he had made his own choices. I kept thinking about the poor boy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’d been fifteen when he was killed, same age I was. But it didn’t stop the guilt; I felt like I was betraying my brother.

  “I was in school the day the sentence was announced. Of course by lunchtime the whole school knew Paul was going to prison for twelve years. I went to the loo to try to compose myself, when a group of my former friends came in, including Kathy Summers, the woman we saw at Villa d’Este.”

  Sophia started to shake. He stood and pulled her into his arms, holding her head close to his chest.

  “They grabbed me and pushed me to the gro
und and a couple of girls sat on me so I couldn’t move. Someone stuffed a school tie in my mouth so I couldn’t scream. Then Kathy carved the initials of the boy who had been killed into my buttocks with a pen knife. They were discussing doing worse to me when one of them I guess felt squeamish from all the blood and ran to get a teacher. Funny, I don’t remember the pain, but I can still smell the floor cleaner. To this day I can’t stand pine-scented cleaning products. Anyway, someone called an ambulance and that was the last time I set foot in that school.”

  “Amore, it is enough. The memories are making you too upset.” He was shaking now as well, and moved them both to the sofa to sit down. His arm tightened around her as if he could protect her from the pain of her former life.

  “No, I have to finish. I want you to know it all, to know all my horrible past. Then if you want to end the marriage, I will go quietly back to England. It’s probably too late to get an annulment. I should have told you before we married that my brother was a murderer.”

  “I want to know only so I can understand you better. Your family, your history, makes no difference to me.” At least now he understood her desire to leave England and never look back.

  Sophia’s tears ran down her cheeks and fell onto her clenched fist. She stared at the wetness on her hand, as if unsure of where it came from. “It took eighty stitches to close up the wounds and I couldn’t sit for a long time. You’ve seen the scars. In the hospital I met Olivia. I won’t tell you her story; that’s her business. Needless to say, she’d been through worse. She was a little younger than me, she’d only just turned fifteen.

  “We decided to run away. We lived on the streets for a few months, sleeping in turns so one of us could keep an eye out for danger. There was no time to look back, no time for dreams and what ifs. Our only thoughts were for survival. We stole food—fruit from the market and stuff like that.”

  “What about your parents? Surely they must have looked for you?” He was shocked. Never had he thought his quiet, serene wife fought for survival on the street.

  “My parents made an effort to find me. But I sent them a letter saying I needed a new start. Dad was looking after Sarah and James now, so they didn’t need me. I couldn’t go back. I didn’t want to be the parent and end up like Ben or Paul. I was selfish. I just wanted to be responsible for me. Those girls in school had killed the old Sophia, as much as my brother had killed that boy.”

  “What about Olivia’s family? Couldn’t you have gone to them?”

  “Olivia’s mother never even reported her missing. I was all Olivia had, and sometimes that is what kept me going—knowing that without me she would be all alone. Olivia and I were inseparable, since the day we met in the hospital we’ve been each other’s family.”

  “Dio mio.”

  “Finally, after one too-close call, we sought refuge at a youth shelter. They took us in without questions, offered us counseling. They helped us finish our education and get jobs. I don’t even want to think what would have become of us if we hadn’t gone there. After I got work and a place to live, I tried to help out by volunteering when I had any free time.”

  “What about Sarah and James?” He was still finding it hard to believe his wife’s resilience, although he should have known from the way she’d adapted so quickly to life in a foreign country. She said she’d been afraid to lose control, and now he knew why. Because there had been no one to protect her in the past. His arms tightened around her.

  “I checked in on them, mostly from a distance for the first couple of years. I didn’t want to go home and give my dad an excuse to exit out of their lives again. Sarah has a lot of issues. She’d sleep with any boy who showed interest in her and was pregnant by the time she was sixteen. Her second baby was born when she was eighteen. Men are in and out of her life, most of them losers. She just had her third baby and that father has already left.

  “James finished school last year. He’s doing okay. I want him to have a trade, something that would ensure he could always get work. So I’m helping him pay for college. He’s going to be an electrician and still lives at home. Mum is pretty sick at the moment, so he does most of the cooking and cleaning.

  “I have great hopes for James. Although I still picture him as the curly haired, blue eyed cherub and have trouble seeing him as the six-foot man he is today. I keep in touch with him. I’m hoping maybe he can come out here for a couple of weeks, if Mum’s well enough. Once I break the news to him of our marriage, that is.”

  “When do you think that will be?” He’d been curious why she hadn’t told her family about their marriage. Now he understood all too well. And it wasn’t good news for their relationship. She’d been independent and strong for so long that getting her to let him in would take time.

  “Probably sooner rather than later. James is finishing up his courses right now and about to start his apprenticeship. But I know he wants to have a little break before he starts work full-time. I thought I’d tell him when he got his results, and then invite him to come over, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Absolutely. I would love to meet him, and any others in your family you want to invite. Maybe Sarah and her children could use a holiday.” He said this genuinely. Although Sophia didn’t currently want to spend much time with her family, other than James, that might change as their own children arrived.

  “Maybe. I’m not sure if your quiet little household here is ready for Sarah and her brood.” Sophia let out a deep breath, her shoulders higher as if the secret of her family had weighed heavily on her.

  “Amore, you are amazing. Thank you for trusting me with your story.”

  Now he knew why she’d married him. But it wasn’t enough. He needed her to need him. To want to be with him for more than his money. He had to figure out how he could get her to rebuild her life around him and not grant him access only on occasion. He wanted her to stop pretending and be real.

  Because one thing had become clear over the past month. Their marriage was becoming more than a business arrangement to him. The little voice in his head chimed in with a chorus of “I told you so.” Yet it offered no advice on how he could make an independent woman need him.

  Maybe it was time for another plan.

  Chapter 12

  “Sophia, is there something you want to tell me?”

  She closed the book she’d been reading and put it down on the table next to the chaise, trying to buy some time before answering. She’d been so careful over the last couple of weeks not to show how much she was coming to care for her husband, or how much she wanted him to need her in return. Could he have guessed? Sometimes she surprised herself at her acting ability. She must have inherited it from her mother.

  She searched Luca’s face, trying to discern the reason for his question. His eyes were impassive, not showing the warmth or desire she was used to seeing in them recently. He held a paper in his hand.

  “Can you give me a hint?”

  His face was remote, as if he was trying to distance himself from some unwanted emotion. “This is the statement for your credit card,” he offered, between clenched teeth.

  She tried to remember any outrageous purchases but failed. The bills for the clothes she’d bought with Isabella had come through a month ago without the merest hint of a question from Luca. Aside from the reupholstered sofa for the sitting room, which Luca claimed to love, she hadn’t bought anything major for the house either. She hoped one day she and Luca could shop together for a new dining set. Something they chose together, a symbol of their unity. Not what they currently were—two disparate people who had amazing sex.

  “Have I spent too much?”

  Luca’s face was still blank, although a muscle throbbed in his jaw.

  “There is a charge on here for a business license.”

  “Oh right, I forgot about that. I didn’t have any cash the day I applied, so had to put the charge on the card. Don’t worry, once I get the finances sorted, I’ll put the expense through my
new company.” The business license had only cost 100 euro. She still didn’t understand why Luca was upset.

  “Do you not think you could have talked to me about starting a business?” His accent became more pronounced.

  “You’ve been so preoccupied lately, I didn’t want to bother you with something so trivial. And I told you I was bored sitting at home. I finished my interior design course and got my certificate. And Jonathan was really happy with the work I did for him and gave me an amazing reference. So I put an advertisement in the local British ex-pat newspaper and quite a few people have contacted me. I thought getting a business license was the proper thing to do. It seems a lot of work is done here under the table, but I didn’t want to get involved in anything shady. I know how important your reputation is to you.” The frostiness in her tone surprised even her. He’d made it abundantly clear that his reputation was more important than her happiness.

  “I assumed you would abide by our arrangement.” The chill in his voice matched hers.

  She leapt to her feet, anger incinerating her normal passivity to white-hot fury in an instant. How dare Luca accuse her of breaking their agreement? Despite all their recent intimacy, did he still regard their marriage as a business deal?

  “When I agreed to this marriage, I clearly recall you saying that I could continue my education, even get a degree.” The sound of her heart breaking temporarily drowned out the thudding of her pulse in her ears.

  “An education, yes. Starting a business is different. If my wife is having to take work, the gossip will be that my company is failing. A rumor like that can do serious damage to my reputation.”

  “Maybe you should worry more about me, and less about rumors,” she shot back.

  “I do care about you. I do not want to see you stressed. You will not have time to work when the babies start to come.”

  The crushing sensation in Sophia’s chest intensified. Clearly Luca only made love to her to get her pregnant. The lust she thought she saw in him wasn’t craving for her, but simply a desire to have a child.