My Heart Lies in Pisciotta

by Cate Nielson Raye

  * * *

  “I need you to come and visit me this weekend, we need to talk.” I had left Sam in the kitchen to speak in hushed tones on my mobile. “Why? What’s wrong? Why are you whispering? Has Sam popped the question already? Before I’ve even met him!” Abby scoffed indignantly down the phone. “No, no, no. I just haven’t seen you in so long and we need to catch up.” She hummed down the phone suspiciously, nothing got past Abby, she knew something was going on. “Yeh, ok. I think I can move my shifts around. You owe me a big, fat, drink or two though.” I grimaced, knowing I wouldn’t be joining her in that. “Ok, I’ll see you Saturday then?”

  After some scheduling I eventually said goodbye and wandered back to my kitchen where Sam was cooking at the stovetop. It had been over two weeks since I had found out about my pregnancy and I still had not broken the news to him. I was still struggling with the thought of having a human life growing inside of me, and the time never seemed right. At 10 weeks I wasn’t showing much of a bump, I appeared more bloated than pregnant, so hiding it had not been an issue. Sam was acting in such a loved-up state whenever I was with him that I didn’t want to shatter the amazing time we were having.

  “What did you have to say to Abby?” Sam peered over his shoulder as he stirred the bolognese in the saucepan. “Oh, she’s having a bit of a hard time of it at home,” I lied. “She’s feeling a little lonely so asked if she could come up this weekend.” He turned toward me, spatula in hand, and offered a lump of sauce for me to try. Bolognese was one of the few foods I knew I could stomach now the morning sickness had well and truly set in. On the few occasions he would offer to cook for me I would request it over anything else. “That should be nice. Will you stay here with her?”

  I tasted the sauce and gave him the thumbs up as I swallowed. “I think she needs a bit of a girly weekend. Do you mind?” He faked a sad frown then smirked. “It’s fine, I have a lot of work to get done anyway. I haven’t concentrated much in class lately, I think one of my students has a major thing for me.” He grinned to himself and came to stand in front of me, his strong forearms leaning on the counter either side of my hips, trapping me where I stood. “Well, I think I know the student you are referring to,” I said coyly, leaning in so my breasts brushed against his shirt front. “I think we can safely say that she’s got it bad.”

  With a grin he lowered his head and brought his lips to mine. My pregnancy hormones made my body react instantly and I wrapped myself around him, pulling his hips to meet mine. He laughed quietly, amused at my ardour, and pulled away to look down at me. “Save that for later. Right now, we have to eat.” He feathered a few light kisses on my lips and across my throat before turning back to the stove. “It will be nice for you to have some girly time. Let me know if you guys want company and I’ll pop around to meet her…finally.”

  A few days later Abby arrived at my flat, weekend bag and bottle of wine in hand, ready to catch up on the gossip. I tried my best to match my friend’s excitement but my nerves were eating me up inside. Before I had settled fully on the sofa she paused in front of me and looked me up and down. “Are you gaining weight? Is Sam feeding you up with all those good Italian carbs?” I smiled but didn’t reply. “Ana, what’s wrong, you seem off? Hang on, I’ll pour a couple of glasses of wine and we can have a good old natter.” She turned toward the kitchen to find some glasses but I stopped her. “Uh actually, no wine for me thanks.”

  She turned and frowned, clearly very confused. I took a deep breath and sat on the sofa, patting the seat cushion next to me signalling she should sit also. She perched on the edge of the cushion nervously “Ana, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.” I let out a shaky gasp and finally blurted it for the first time. “Ab, I’m pregnant.” Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and she sat still in shock. I covered my eyes and dropped my head into my shaking hands. “Is it..?” I nodded and told her about Rome and my ineffective pill taking. She took my hand slowly and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Holy shit,” she sighed simply. “Yep,” I agreed.

  She looked at me warily, a question in her eyes that I could sense she didn’t know whether to ask. “Are you…keeping it?” I nodded as a tear slipped down my cheek. Before I knew it her arms were around my shoulders and I was sobbing into her shoulder. I pulled away and wiped at my cheeks with a weak laugh. “Sorry…very hormonal obviously.” She smiled at me warmly and kept an arm around my shoulders. “What did Sam say when you told him?” I grabbed a tissue from the box on my small side table and blew my nose noisily. “Ah yes, well, I sort of haven’t told him yet.” Her eyes widened again and she gave me a very old fashioned look.

  “Ana, you are getting on for three months pregnant, you have to tell him soon or it’s going to become very obvious in the next few weeks anyway and he’s gonna be pissed you didn’t tell him.” I huffed out a long breath and tried to regain control of my emotions. “I know! I just can’t seem to find the right time. He’s always talking about how happy he is, just the two of us. How he can’t wait to enjoy being a couple over the next few years. What if he loses his shit and tells me he doesn’t want it?” Abby frowned and rolled her eyes. “From what you’ve told me I don’t think he’s that kind of person. But…if he does reject the idea…you’re not alone. I’ll be there for you.”

  Her kindness made the tears fall again and I hugged her tightly until she pulled away, wiping at her own eyes with the back of her sleeve. She snatched the bottle of wine from the table and waved it in the air. “Well, looks like this is all mine! I’m going to be an Aunty! Wow…I’m really gonna need a drink to process that!” I laughed and fetched a glass for her from the kitchen. “Let me get a couple of glasses into me then we will discuss how you’re going to tell Sam.” I settled back into the sofa cushions, the weight that had lifted from my shoulders when I had told her the news was now firmly back in place. Abby rubbed my knee and offered a supportive smile. “Ana, you have to tell him soon.” I nodded and twisted a loose thread from my jumper around my finger. “I know I do. I know.”

  * * *

  It was another week before I saw the midwife and confirmed the pregnancy. I called them before Abby went home so that I had her hand to hold if they needed to see me right away. At the appointment a few days later I was registered with the maternity unit and, as I had missed three periods already, was booked in for an ultrasound scan the following week. With everything now set in stone, in my mind at least, I knew that I had to tell Sam as soon as possible. It wouldn’t have been fair to go to our first scan without him knowing. Finding the right time, however, seemed to be the hardest thing in the world.

  It was late March and the amount of university work I had was increasing dramatically as we entered the final few months of our first year. I found myself locked in the studio most days and painting at my easel for hours on end most evenings. Sam was also busy, buried under mountains of marking and admin. Spending most evenings and large portions of the day apart made it difficult to talk. I resorted to taking a position as Sam’s undergraduate assistant just to be able to spend some time with him during the day. I spent my free time hanging around his office, booking his student meetings, ordering stock for his classes, taking phone calls and answering emails.

  I was over eleven weeks pregnant and it was starting to show. With the weather gradually becoming warmer it was hard to hide my changing body under thick coats and chunky cardigans. The workload had prevented Sam and me from being intimate for the past week, it coincided luckily with when I first felt my stomach begin to protrude. The weather the coming weekend was expected to feel like summer had arrived. After barely seeing each other for weeks Sam had planned a weekend together, travelling out of the city so that we wouldn’t be spotted by anyone from the university. It was the perfect opportunity to break the news. I was terrified, and part of me wanted to enjoy what little care-free time we had left. But I couldn’t hide it any longer.

  After my Thursday morning lecture, I went straight to Sam�
�s office to start my assistant duties. I knocked the door and entered, finding him sitting behind his desk, a pile of folders to his left and his laptop to his right. He looked up from his papers as I entered and gave me a weary smile. “You look busy,” I stated the obvious but he chuckled and waved me over to him. He spun in his chair so that I could stand between his knees and wrapped his forearms behind my legs, pulling me closer to him. I ran my hands through his hair as he looked up at me and smiled. “I love you,” he murmured. I stroked his face and bent over to place a soft kiss on his forehead, “I love you too”.

  Sam leant forward and hugged my waist, resting his head against my stomach. Remembering the slight swell of my baby bump I stepped awkwardly out of his grasp. “It’s hot in here, let me open a window.” I busied myself with the window latch, hoping he hadn’t noticed my discomfort, then turned and offered a smile. “Is this anything I can help with?” I pointed toward the stacks of folders scattered across the desk. “Not really,” he shrugged, “but I have some emails that need to be read and some that need to be written and sent if you can take care of that?” I nodded and carried his laptop over to the small table next to his desk to start some work.

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, a sign he was stressed, before picking up another file. I took pity on him. “Sam, why don’t you go and get us some coffee and some snacks. Some fresh air will do you good and when you come back I’ll help you get through some of that.” I waved a finger at the mountain of papers he was thumbing through. He grinned his boyish grin and threw the papers down. After a long stretch, he planted a chaste kiss on my mouth before opening the office door. “Can you answer the phone if it rings and attend to anyone if they come knocking?” I nodded and moved to sit near the phone. Sam took my coffee order and left, propping the door ajar before disappearing down the corridor.

  It was a beautiful day. The blue skies were clear of clouds and a mild breeze blew through the windows toward the open office door. I sat in Sam’s chair, my feet resting on top of a box of paperwork, and let the fresh air blow through my hair. My eyes closed and I felt calm for the first time in weeks. I imagined mine and Sam’s weekend, enjoying the weather out in the middle of nowhere, having a picnic in a field for lunch then going out to a nice restaurant in the evening for dinner. Sam was supposed to be staying with me that evening as my flat was outside of the city centre where another student was less likely to see him visiting someone he shouldn’t.

  I planned to tell him about the baby as soon as we got home. I would sit him down, with a glass of wine, and break the news as calmly as I could. My heart stuttered at the thought and I took a deep, steadying breath. I was still scared and I had no idea how our relationship could remain hidden once it became obvious I was pregnant, it was something we had to discuss. Even though the future was so uncertain part of me thought Sam might be happy. He seemed to love me, he told me and showed me often. We had never discussed children but, having seen him with his large Italian family, I knew that he would want them eventually. After a few minutes lost in thought, a knock on the door woke me from my reverie.

  I spun around in the chair to face the doorway. A woman stood inside the office looking around with a slightly disapproving look on her face. Having come from a relatively well off family I recognised designer fashion, and this woman was covered head to toe in haute couture. She wore black, patent leather Louboutins and carried a Hermes bag tucked under her arm. Her nails were pointed like claws and painted a deep, crimson red. Her hair was platinum blonde and cut into a severe crop near the base of her throat. She looked as though she had just left London fashion week. “Uh, can I help you?” I asked, sitting a little straighter in the chair and trying to appear less frumpy in my blouse and jeans. I failed miserably.

  The fashion queen sauntered further into the room and studied the various pieces of student art on the walls with a sneer. “I’m not sure.” She peered over her glasses at me, her expression showing that she doubted I was capable of knowing much of anything. “I was under the impression that this is Samuel Beneventi’s office. Perhaps I am mistaken?” I didn’t like how she prowled the room, running a long finger over Sam’s personal items on his desk. “Oh no, you’re correct. This is Sam’s office. I’m just a student assisting here.” Her eyebrows shot up as I mentioned his name. “And do all his students call him Sam?” I frowned at her sarcastic tone and felt the need to challenge her. “Only the ones he works closely with.”

  She took an iPhone out of her handbag and checked the screen. “Do you know where Samuel is?” She tapped at the phone screen and turned her back to me as if my presence offended her eyes. “He went out for coffee. You can come back later if you want. Or, if it’s important, perhaps give him a call and wait for him here?” She turned back to face me and rolled her eyes. “Oh, he never seems to answer when I call these days,” she sniffed. If Sam wasn’t taking this woman’s calls there was probably a good reason for it. “May I ask the reason you came by?” I stood from the chair and eyed her suspiciously. She approached the desk and flashed me a fake, overly sweet smile. “Oh sweetie,” she simpered in a patronising, girlish voice, “a woman doesn’t need a reason to visit her husband. Now, when do you think he’ll be back?”

  * * *

  I held my breath and gripped the edge of the desk until my knuckles turned white. “What did you just say?” I managed to choke out. She frowned at me and shoved the phone back in her bag exasperated. “Look, is he going to be long? I have places to be.” I struggled to remain coherent, every inch of my body told me to run, run out of the door and to never look back. If I hadn’t have been trapped behind Sam’s desk I may have. “I’m…sorry,” I stammered, “did you just say you’re his-” At that moment Sam entered the office, two paper coffee cups balancing in one hand and a paper food bag in the other. “They didn’t have any sandwiches left so I got…”

  He froze in the doorway mid-sentence when he noticed the woman now eying him beadily. I wanted desperately for him not to acknowledge her, to look at me, confused and confirm that he really didn’t know who she was. Instead, he cast a nervous glance between the two of us and approached the desk slowly to place down the coffee and food parcel. “Helena, what are you doing here?” His voice was low and firm. My palms were slick with sweat, my heart feeling as if it would beat out of my chest when he spoke her name. Helena smiled sweetly and began to approach him until he held up a hand, warning her to stop. “Darling, you wouldn’t return my calls so I felt a visit was necessary.” She waved a dismissive hand in my direction. “If I’d known you were shacking up with young, obviously very naive, students I would have arrived sooner.”

  I took a shaking, panicked breath but was frozen to the spot. It was as if a car crash was occurring in front of my eyes but I was unable to look away. Sam turned quickly to look at me. The fear evident in his eyes told me all I needed to know. “Ana, it’s not wha-” I suddenly found my feet again and, with my heart breaking into a thousand pieces, I shoved past him and ran to the door. He grabbed my upper arm tightly and tried to pull me to his chest. “Don’t fucking touch me!” I screamed and ripped my arm out of his grasp. He took a step back under the sting of my words and the heat of my glare. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again.” I blinked back tears as I turned to leave.

  “Ana, stop!” He yelled and chased after me until I made it to a busier corridor. Not wanting to cause a scene he came to a halt, I looked back at him one last time. The colour had drained from his face, his arms were raised, hands gripping at the hair at the back of his head in distress. My shoulders shuddered with the beginning of a sob as I ran down the stairs and out of the exit doors. I was soon at the bike shed, my hands shaking as I tried to fit the key into my bike lock. I was in no fit state to cycle home, but I couldn’t bear the thought of standing calmly at a bus stop until the next bus arrived.

  My breathing was laboured, my chest was tight with emotion as I desperately fought back the tears. I probably looked like
a madwoman speeding past the other students, my eyes wild and desperate and sobbing uncontrollably with despair. I didn’t care, I hardly noticed, I just needed to get far away as quickly as possible. I swerved off the pavement and onto the main road to avoid the pedestrians. Cars sped past, drivers beeped their horns if I swerved too far from the gutter. Memories of all the conversations I’d had with Sam ran through my head as I pedalled faster. Not once had he mentioned a wife. He hadn’t mentioned any previous relationship in fact. How could he have kept a whole second life so secret?

  Nonna’s voice rang in my ears, “Samuel had hard times when he lived in Brighton.” Is that what she had been talking about? Did Nonna know Sam had a wife? As soon as I thought it I immediately dismissed the idea. Nonna would not have approved of me dating a married man. The sharp pieces of my heart stabbed deeper into my chest and I gasped. Sam was married. I wasn’t so naive to think that Sam had never been with anybody before me. He was considerably older and to have remained single for that long would have been odd, especially looking the way he did. But knowing that he had loved someone enough to marry them enraged me with jealousy, and to find out in the manner I had, even if they were now separated, hurt me more than anything in my messed up life ever had.

  As I approached the junction I pedalled faster, making it through the traffic lights as they turned red. A large SUV began to emerge from the street on my left, evidently unable to see me as I sped toward the side of his vehicle. I slammed my hand over the break and swung the bike out of its path before impact, but I was too late. My pedal caught the front of his bumper and I was jolted sideways, thrown from the saddle and coming to a crashing halt against the tarmac. I lay still for a moment. In my distraught state, I couldn’t tell if I was hurt. I pushed the bike away from my legs with my feet and staggered into a standing position.