by Sloan Storm
On the one hand, I could simply ignore the secrets the envelope contained. On the other, doing so would mean ignoring something deep inside myself, a feeling I’d had my entire life but couldn’t explain.
Something never seemed right, and now I knew why.
I curled my fingers inward, bending the envelope. Exhaling, I leaned back into the chair, pressing all of my weight into it. Even though I’d shared my secret with Dani, the final decision about how to handle it was mine, and mine alone. I dropped the envelope into my lap and flipped it over, reaching for the clasp holding it closed. After a couple of seconds, I pried it open and reached inside.
Wealth is a strange thing… Once it’s achieved, its value changes. Rather than a means to an end, it becomes a source for enjoying the parts of life which, while free, cost a great deal - sometimes much more than any of us are able to pay. I grasped all the papers, the adoption certificate and the letters in my hand and stared at them.
It’s strange how such things, which I didn’t even know existed a couple of weeks ago, had suddenly become the most important possessions in the world to me. Over the next couple of minutes, I read both of the letters again. When I'd finished, I picked up the adoption certificate, pinching it between my thumb and forefinger. Studying the faded names on the official government document, I wondered about the emotions each of them might have felt.
Ironically, my mother chose money over me… It was the very same thing she accused my father of doing to her. As for my biological father, well, his motives might always remain hidden. The thought of him caused me to pause for a moment.
What kind of man was he?
What kind of person sleeps with another man’s wife?
What does it say about the content of his character?
Even more troubling… What did it say about my own?
Genetics are the gravity of human misery, enslaving us to behaviors we spent a lifetime battling to overcome. In the long run, how would I be any different from him? The seconds ticked by.
What about my mother? Was she just young, lonely and desperate? Or was there a more sinister side to her? After all, what kind of woman turns over her own child, especially when it’s to a man who can more than provide for her?
I closed my eyes again, exhaling and trying to come to grips with my lineage. For at least a minute, I sat there, just breathing. At last, I opened my eyes, picking up the letter from Antonio.
In a strange way, I felt more connected to him than I had in my entire life. We never got along, for reasons that now were obvious, but at the time caused me nothing but pain. However, tracing my eyes along his words again, I began to question my memories. I really had no alternative but to look at him with a new perspective.
I wasn’t his flesh and blood. He could have just as easily turned his back, not only on me but also on my biological parents. I sat there in silence, searching myself for the kind of character within me that he must have possessed. It was the first time I ever remembered wanting to be like him, in any way.
The simple fact was that when it mattered the most, he was the one who cared for me when no one else would… The man I thought I hated. My hand fell into my lap, crinkling the letter from him in the process.
Who was my real family?
What was family?
Was family simply a matter of blood and genes? Or was it something far more complex and intricate - commitment, support, and love that spanned a lifetime?
I shook my head, wondering if the truth would ever make itself known to me. Just then, I felt my cell phone vibrating in the pocket of my jeans. I placed my father’s letter to one side, stacking it on top of the other papers. Seconds later, I held the phone in front of my face and swiped it.
“Dani?” I began, casting my gaze in the direction of the Manhattan skyline ahead of me. “Is everything all right?”
She wasted no time making small talk.
“Marco, where are you?”
“I’m in my hotel room, in Manhattan, about fifteen minutes from your office. Why?”
She paused for a moment, even so, her breathing suggested urgency. Before she could say anything, I reiterated my first question.
“Dani, is everything all right? You sound tense.”
She broke her stilted silence.
“No, everything is fine. I just need to see you. That’s all.”
Standing from the chair, took a handful of steps towards the edge of the balcony, leaning against the railing and glancing down at the streets below.
“I thought we agreed to give each other some time, you know, to think. What’s happened?”
“Marco,” she began, a firmness coming to her tone. “If you need time, then just say so. I don’t.”
The sudden change in her demeanor surprised me.
“It’s not about me, Dani. I think you know how I feel about what’s happened. I want to give you the freedom to think, especially with everything going with your family and your job. But, if you’re ready to talk, then I’m more than happy to listen.”
A deep exhale came from her.
“I’m glad. What I have to say won’t take very long but at the same time, it can’t wait either.”
I stood upright, leaning away from the balcony.
“I understand. Where are you?”
“I’m on my way back from Pennsylvania. I’ll be there in a few hours.”
I cleared my throat, turning my back on the skyline and looking towards my hotel room.
“Okay, I’ll text you the address.”
A few moments later we said our goodbyes and I hung up. After sliding my phone in the back pocket of my jeans, I walked back over to where I’d stacked paperwork. Bending over at the waist, I gathered it up and slid it down inside of the manila envelope once again. Tossing it on the chair, I raked my fingers along my scalp.
Why was she coming here?
Was it to forgive?
Or forget?
DANI
Driving as fast as I could, I arrived at Marco’s hotel a few hours later.
I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to say, let alone how. The only thing certain was I wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass me by. One way or another, I’d leave there knowing exactly how he felt about me. Taking a final deep breath, I knocked on the door to his hotel room. Not long after, the handle twisted, and in a flash, Marco appeared in front of me.
He smiled, standing to one side. Once I entered, he closed the door behind me. I stood there, waiting for him to approach. Within a couple of seconds, he approached and kissed my cheek.
“I’ve been out on the veranda,” he began, pulling away and looking at me. “Come join me.”
I repositioned the strap of my purse on my shoulder and nodded.
“Okay.”
After following him outside, I looked to my left and saw a chair with a manila envelope on it.
“I’ve only just started a bottle,” Marco said, reaching for the wine sitting on top of the veranda wall. “Would you like a bit?”
I looked in his direction and away from the envelope, shaking my head.
“No. No thank you.”
While he refilled his glass, I found my curiosity getting the better of me.
“What have you been doing here by yourself?”
Marco finished pouring his drink. After setting the bottle down, he turned around, facing me.
“Just taking some time to myself - remember, like we discussed?”
I nodded, recalling the informal agreement we’d come to with each other. I felt a sudden sense of awkwardness, like I’d intruded on his impromptu sanctuary.
“Oh,” I began, gesturing towards the balcony doors. “Do you want me to leave?”
While I spoke, Marco took a big drink of his wine. He finished and took several steps towards me.
“Why would I want you to leave, Dani? Especially after you’ve come all this way?”
Feeling a bit foolish, I tried to change the subject.
“What is that?” I asked, pointing at the envelope.
“Why don’t you take a guess?” Marco replied, taking another gulp of his drink.
I shrugged.
“Well, I mean, it’s a manila envelope. Really anything could be in there.”
He shook his head and chuckled.
“Not really, Dani, especially if you think about it.”
No sooner had he spoken those words than it dawned on me.
“Oh is that, your, you know?”
A smile came to the corner of his mouth.
“It is.”
I battled an urge to reach for the folder, open it and learn the truth about him. It took nearly every ounce of restraint I had not to do it. Instead, I asked the question gnawing at me since he revealed his family history to me.
“What are you going to do, Marco?”
While taking another drink of his wine, Marco frowned at me. He lowered the glass away from his lips, chuckling at the same time.
“You’ve got enough going on right now, Dani. You don’t need to worry about my problems.”
I took a deep inhale.
“But, that’s just it, Marco. Don’t you see? Your problems are my problems. I don’t care what they are, so long as we’re together, they belong to both of us.”
Marco lowered his glass further, holding it just to the outside of his thigh.
“I don’t feel like I need to tell you this again, Marco, but I’m going to. I’m in love with you, and everything that’s happened has made me realize it, more than ever. I don’t care about your agreement, or my job with the firm. Don’t you understand? None of that matters to me anymore. The only thing I care about is you, Marco. I don’t want to lose you – not now, not ever.”
For some strange reason, I felt as if I’d said more than I should have. I stopped and looked away from him. Marco didn’t reply, leaving me there to consider what I’d confessed. It was true, every bit of it, but whether or not he welcomed it, I had no idea.
A couple of seconds later he walked towards me.
Trailing each of his steps with my eyes, I watched him draw near. Marco never looked at me or made any mention of what I’d said. Instead, he stopped a couple of feet away, just at the edge of the chair containing the manila folder. Picking it up, Marco opened it and reached inside, pulling out the papers. One by one he began to ball them up in his hands, crushing them into the shapes of tiny orbs.
“Marco!” I gasped, pointing at them. “What are you doing?”
He ignored me, turning his back and heading into the hotel room once again. Dumbfounded, I knelt down and reached for the pages. Whatever emotions he might have been experiencing, they couldn’t be worth destroying. After all, they were the only evidence he had of his family history. But no sooner had I started to unfold the first crushed ball than he reappeared from inside of the room.
“Dani,” he began, his voice stern. “What are you doing?”
I glanced up at him, and my mouth fell open.
“Nothing. I…”
He shook his head and walked right up to me.
“This isn’t your problem. It’s mine.”
With that, his posture eased and his body language suggested I’d gone as far as he was going to allow. Dropping the wad of paper from my hand, I backed away.
“Thank you, Dani.”
And then with a flourish, Marco reached into his back pocket and produced a book of matches. Before I could say a word, he struck the first one, igniting it.
“Marco!” I yelped. “No!”
The match flickered, burning and smoldering while he held it in front of his face. I sensed a moment of hesitation and jumped in, hoping to talk some sense into him.
“This is your life history,” I began, drawing my hands together in a prayerful pose in front of me. “Your entire past - at least think about what you’re doing. Please.”
While I spoke, the flame continued to dwindle, coming close to the tips of his fingers. At the last instant, Marco released it, dropping it to the ground and crushing it out with the sole of his shoe. I draped my hand across my chest, relieved.
“Thank you, I’m so glad you didn’t do it.”
While I spoke, Marco raised the book of matches in front of his face. For several seconds, he turned them back and forth looking at them.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Trying to figure out how to tell you how wrong you are.”
I frowned at him.
“Wrong? What am I wrong about?”
Marco shrugged and peeled another match out of the book.
“You think my past has meaning to me, Dani.” he began, shaking his head and positioning the match for a strike. “It doesn't. The only thing that has meaning to me…is you.”
Confused, I shook my head.
“I don’t understand. What is it that you’re trying to say?”
Marco swiped the match with a quick jerk. It hissed to life and began to flicker. Without a word, he grabbed the piece of paper I’d begged him not to destroy and in less than a second, set it on fire.
“Marco!” I yelped, covering my mouth with my hands.
Holding the page at one corner, he lit it and watched while the flames consumed it. Just before it reached his hand, he flicked it away and it tumbled to the ground, leaving behind a trail of smoke and ash in its wake. He reached for another match but this time, I grabbed hold of his hand, stopping him.
“Why are you doing this?” I said, nearly begging him for an answer.
“Isn’t it obvious, Dani?” he replied, prying his hands free of my grip.
After striking the next match, he reached for another one of the crumpled up pieces of paper and held the fire to it. Dumbfounded, I watched flames consume it until, just like the one before, it evaporated before my eyes.
“No, Marco,” I began, trying to answer the question he posed. “Nothing about what you’re doing right now is obvious to me. On the one hand you told me how lucky I was to have a family. Remember? And now, you stand here destroying every memory of your own.”
While he listened to me, Marco picked up the last piece of paper remaining and showed it to me.
“These people…” he began, pointing at the names of his biological parents. “They aren’t family. The only real family I ever had was the father who took care of me, even though I wasn’t his own son. By setting fire to all of these things, I’m not rejecting my past but instead honoring it. Eventually, you’ll come to understand what I mean, but for now, just know none of these things have any meaning in my life.”
I didn’t know how to respond, but before I could say a word, Marco lit one more match. On instinct, I reached for the document, trying to pull it away from him. Marco turned away and within seconds it burned, just like the others. Afterward, he swiped his hands together with a few casual strokes, smearing away the soot.
He turned to me. “I’m glad you came, Dani. I wasn’t sure if, or when, I'd see you again.”
I swallowed hard, running my fingers through my hair.
“Now that I’ve got that behind me,” he began, drawing closer and taking my hands in his. “There’s only one more thing left to do.”
Exhaling, I shook my head. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“That’s understandable. Things have been difficult, and you and I are at a critical point in our relationship. But, there’s one thing I can do –– one thing I should’ve done already. Nothing, Dani, not all the money in the world, means more to me than what I’m about to say.”
I looked up into his eyes, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words.
“I’m in love with you,” he said, leaning in towards me and placing a tender kiss on my lips.
A moment later, he pulled away, reaching towards me and sliding his fingers into my hair. Stunned at his sudden confession, I found myself at a loss for words.
Marco smiled.
“I would’ve expected you to be a bit more excited.”
S
till unable to form a single word, I choked back the emotion gathering in my throat and reached for him.
Marco hugged me, pulling me into the strength of his embrace.
DANI
Marco lowered his chin, raising his fingers towards my chin at the same time. With a gentle pressure, he tilted my head upward and pressed his mouth into mine with a supple smoothness. A soft whimper escaped from my mouth when our lips touched. I’d missed him so much, felt his absence so deeply. It wasn't until that instant that I realized how far I’d fallen.
I’d been in love before, like most people. But the depth to which his presence affected me – nothing I’d ever experienced before could have prepared me for it. Marco engulfed me, sending my mind into the warm pleasure of his embrace. We kissed more vigorously, twisting our heads from side to side for at least a minute, maybe more.
Marco’s fingers drifted away from my face and meandered along my curves. Reaching towards his arms, I curled my fingers, desperate to feel the reassuring hardness of his muscular biceps. All the while, Marco’s hands continued to explore and trace the lines of my body, until at last they made their way around behind me. Marco tightened his grip, squeezing hard in my lower back and momentarily forcing the breath out of my lungs. We broke from each other for a moment and looked into each other’s eyes.
“I’ve missed you, Dani,” he began, sliding his tongue across his lower lip with a flash. “I won’t mince words. I need to fuck you - more than anything.”
Still gasping for breath, I struggled to find a response between inhales. Marco didn’t try to restrain himself, crashing his lips into mine again. My eyes fluttered closed.
I leaned into him, eager to let him claim me. Marco wasted no time, sliding his tongue inside of my mouth with a firm, determined stroke. I felt my body give way. My muscles went limp. My inhibitions fell away while I curled into the hardness of his body. The seconds ticked by, each one growing with intensity.
On the balcony of his Manhattan hotel room, we consumed each other, unashamed and unafraid of who might happen to see. Marco’s hands continued their sinful journey, circling around from my rear to the front of my body.
“Oh fuck,” I whispered, my head drifting away from his.