Farewell, My Loves

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Farewell, My Loves Page 8

by Jen Tirone


  With that, the man standing closest to the seated man, turns to him with a manic gleam in his eyes and raises what looks like metal covering his knuckles, and slams his fist to the injured man’s face.

  Between the injured man’s pained howl and the sound of bone shattering, it’s a wonder I didn’t faint.

  But before I can even react, the injured man receives several more blows to his face and body in quick succession.

  He’s tied to the goddamn chair having to take the beat-down they’re doling out for him!

  With a single worded command I couldn’t hear Giorgio say, he gets the assailant to cease his round and Gio stands and approaches the sitting man.

  It happened so fast I didn’t realize what was happening at first when he took out something from his coat pocket, yanked the man’s hair back and slashed his hand across the man’s face.

  Seeing some of that man’s teeth scatter across the floor, finally cements what I was trying to deny to myself up to this point, that I couldn’t hold back the gasp of shock I let out.

  With my hands covering my opened mouth in pure disbelief, I hear Gio’s deep, angry voice bark something I can’t make out because the blood whooshing through my ears made me go momentarily deaf.

  The whole group of men are facing me now, and Giorgio’s looming toward me with a look in his eyes I’d never seen before.

  I flinched when he reached his hand out to grab the nape of my neck, squeezing hard enough to take my attention off the circle of thugs before me.

  In a calm but menacing voice, he tells me to get back in the car.

  Is he nuts?

  “What’s happening—”

  But he cuts me off through gritted teeth and warns, “Gianna, get out of here. Now.”

  Staring into his dark brown eyes, I can’t believe the anger emanating off of him.

  At me.

  Before I can open my mouth to say something else, anything in response, Giorgio roughly drags me toward the exit of the warehouse by the nape of my neck still.

  “Gio!” I yell, grabbing onto his punishing grip to try and make him let go, but he’s too strong.

  He was going to leave bruises there.

  “Shut your fucking mouth, Gianna. Don’t you ever disobey me again,” he punctuates with a rough squeeze to my neck that forced a yelp out of me.

  Outside, the moment Marco steps out of the car Gio cuts off what he’s about to say.

  “Don’t bother, Marco. Drive her home and return here immediately. Don’t get any brave ideas either. I wouldn’t want to have to send Faustino over to keep your new Missus company while I find you.”

  With a petrified look on his face, he bows his head down and nods his agreement and then gets back into the driver seat.

  Once I’m inside the backseat, Giorgio slams the door shut on me.

  I’m about to open the window and demand he explain what I just saw, when he points a finger at my face outside the window.

  “Don’t bother waiting up tonight,” he dismisses me and slaps the car frame twice to send Marco off.

  Soon as we’re on the road, I turn to ask Marco what all this is about when I make eye contact with him in the rearview mirror, and the sorrow I see in his tear-filled eyes stops me from uttering even a noisy breath.

  I fucked up.

  And the realization that I’m not the only one in trouble weighs heavily on me.

  The hour-long drive home was filled with complete remorse on my part, and complete silence on his.

  At the building, the doorman opens my door and I hesitate to step out. I want to say something to Marco, but I feel like nothing I do or say can fix the trouble I must have gotten him into.

  I know Giorgio is angry, but he wouldn’t go as far as firing him, would he?

  God, I have so many questions I need answered.

  I decide to just bid Marco a goodnight, when he returns a ‘goodbye’ instead that leaves me even more concerned.

  Walking through the cold lobby barefoot is when I realize I dropped my heels back in the warehouse, and when I start replaying in my mind what I witnessed, I start to shake from pure worry.

  I’m woken by Gio pulling the covers off of me.

  It’s dark and I’m a little disoriented, when I remember what happened earlier, and now he’s home.

  With his hand skimming my body in a caress at odds with the angry man who sent me home earlier, I was nervous.

  “I know you’re awake, Gianna.”

  Gianna.

  No bella, no tesorina.

  Not even Gia.

  I’m tempted to ask every question running rampant through my head, but it was all crystal clear.

  The late nights working, the family meetings with Domenico, vague talks of business and how they could afford so much with said vague businesses...

  If I couldn’t be bothered to ask in-depth before, after what I witnessed tonight—I knew better than to dare anymore.

  The question I have to ask instead is not for him, but for myself: can I ignore it?

  Did I even have a choice?

  “What you did tonight, won’t be tolerated again, Gianna. Capisce?” His soft voice doesn’t do anything to take out the bite of his words.

  “Yes, Giorgio,” I answered immediately because I wouldn’t disobey him again.

  After the way he grabbed me, my God, I can’t even look him in the eyes, I’m so upset I don’t know what to think anymore.

  After a long silence, he sighs loudly in exasperation and sits closer to me like tonight was nothing to be alarmed about.

  “It’s time you make an effort to learn English. I’ve indulged your little immigrant tourist stage long enough; I need you to start engaging at the dinners we attend and make friends with the other wives.”

  Tourist stage?

  Bastardo.

  I just nod my response because I imagine anything I could say to the contrary might provoke him.

  He’s been too nice as it is since he’s woken me, I don’t want to push it.

  “Lunches, charity photographs and all a’ that. You need to be able to communicate with all the spouses and girlfriends of New York’s ‘finest’. Especially the Senator’s wife.”

  I should have known the fairytale was too good to be true.

  Housekeepers, drivers. I thought it was so I could learn something, maybe even go to the University. But freeing me of mundane household duties was all for a larger purpose.

  Gesu Cristo, why does he want me to be part of it?

  I refocus my thoughts to one thing at a time before I lose my mind.

  “Okay, I’ll look into English courses tomorrow,” I tell him right away, still afraid I could upset him.

  He just watches me for a little bit before acknowledging what I said with a nod.

  Then his face softens when he moves to lay his palm on my backside.

  “It’d be good we make a baby, too, bella. Keep you occupied,” he said with a squeeze, letting me know exactly what he wants and part of me wishes I could deny him.

  It’s not like I’ve been doing anything to not have one. But I didn’t want a baby because I needed to do something other than twiddle my thumbs. I wanted our baby because we’re in love.

  Remembering the sage warnings from my mama’s womanly crash course, it was a man’s marital right to have his wife as he pleased.

  And after the small taste I got earlier tonight of what he’s capable of in anger, I’d rather not incite any of it toward me more than I already have.

  So I didn’t hesitate.

  But instead of making love to me that night, he fucked me for the first time.

  I had been nothing short of cherished each time since our wedding night, with soft caresses, and sweet, sweet kisses.

  Only complete adoration had reflected from his warm brown eyes.

  Tonight however, nothing was sweet.

  Nothing about me was cherished.

  He may have caressed me, but it was solely to fire up my arousal
.

  I knew it was going to be a different encounter when he turned me on to my belly and then lifted my hips up so that I’d be on my hands and knees.

  “Gio—”

  “Relax, Gianna. Be a good girl.”

  But his stern words did nothing to calm me.

  When he pulled the negligee up over my hips to expose me to him, I was scared out of my mind he might hurt me.

  Instead, he put his mouth there, and my God, I should be ashamed of how good it felt.

  I should be upset.

  I shouldn’t enjoy being touched by him right now, but I didn’t stand a chance with his tongue making me pliant to all his whims.

  I was close and he knew it so when he withdrew, I had no idea it was to bite my ass cheek hard, causing me to mewl in both pain and pleasure.

  “Shh, bella. I can’t help myself with the way you look right now,” he said, kissing the mark he made.

  When I heard his belt being unbuckled, I was anxious but still yielding.

  If only for a moment, part of me needed to forget everything.

  Imagining he was going to ease his way in with this new position, I was surprised when he instead traced his length down the crevice of my ass and paused at the uncharted opening, scaring me of his intent, but instead he lowered to my core and thrust inside with a punishing stab.

  The sudden intrusion had me arching my back and gasping at the fullness.

  He snaked a hand up my hair and wrapped it tightly around his fist and when he yanked it back he spanked me, eliciting another gasp from me, making me clench from the surprise of it all.

  With that, Giorgio hissed and started fucking. Bottoming out, he thrust deeply, urgently, and roughly.

  It drove the point home that everything about him wasn’t all what it seemed. It almost felt as if he was fucking the naiveté out of me and yet I wanted more, more and more.

  It was necessary to fully experience this change in him. I needed to feel the digression from the façade, because with this ammo, I could bind the armor I needed to protect my foolish heart.

  “You’re gonna be a good girl for me, Gia?” he panted.

  There was no need to answer, he had my submission.

  Except Giorgio was relentless; he knew I was withdrawing and he wouldn’t stand for it.

  “Don’t be upset, baby, you’re everything to me. I promise, it’ll all be okay, just forget about tonight. You’re my queen, you know that. Everything I do is for you,” he told me in my ear as the oppressive full weight of him was on my back.

  The punishing thrusts spoke louder than his sweet nothings.

  I was at odds with the pleasure in my body and the concern in my mind.

  It would be in my best interest to accept that all he’s amassed has been for me. God knows what he’s done to obtain it all.

  Maybe I was already making excuses for him.

  Maybe it was just easier to lie to myself.

  I was disillusioned with how he got it all, but it didn’t mean he didn’t love me, right?

  I couldn’t expect it to be perfect all the time either. I just didn’t think my blissful bubble would burst so soon and to such a hideous reality.

  After I reluctantly came, he pulled out and flipped me to my back and climbed over my body, settling in on my chest.

  Fully dressed still with nothing but his length out, this was an act of dominance if I ever I saw one.

  I acquiesced with an opened mouth and accepted the fucking between my lips without hesitation.

  So much for making a baby, I wanted to lash out.

  But I was to be his ‘good girl’ from now on.

  When he finished inside my mouth for the first time ever, the bitter taste left had nothing to do with him—and everything to do with the stupidity I felt for being blind all this time.

  I was naive and clueless in regards to Gio and still, that didn’t even scrape the surface of who he’d become.

  But the vows we made before our families and under the presence of God were for better or worse.

  It seemed I was going to have to learn to live with the reality that it wasn’t just one way, but both.

  Sometimes, it feels like that night of the warehouse run-in was nothing but a bad dream.

  And the way Gio took me, merely a figment of my imagination.

  See, he’d been fiercely protective and loyal to me in our childhood. And he’d been nothing but passionate and rather doting from our reunion onward. So that continued as if nothing ever happened.

  For him.

  Because for me, I remembered everything about that night, everything that was said.

  That following morning, I imagined Gio would be terse and even expectant with me. Maybe order me around. Demand things.

  When I say it was the contrary, it’s because it really was.

  I was awake before him, but I stayed in bed pretending to be asleep still. When I heard him stirring, I cringed not knowing what awaited me now.

  I gave away my pretense when he reached over to tuck a tendril of my hair behind my ear, and since I hadn’t expected it, much less for it to be that he was going to do something sweet, I flinched.

  He paused a beat and then ran his fingers through my hair the way he knew I loved.

  “Bella, I have to head out soon, but would you like to have lunch with me in the city today?” he asked me softly with a kiss to the side of my neck.

  I shrugged because I imagined I didn’t have a say in anything anymore.

  So when he lifted himself up on an elbow to get a better look at me, I buried my face into the pillow afraid my non-answer was provoking him.

  Hearing him burst into laughter was not at all what I expected.

  Swearing I was losing my mind and that the morning so far was an actual dream, I opened my eyes to see him smiling at me.

  “Vieni qui, you silly girl,” he commanded but didn’t wait for me to because he was pulling me underneath him so we were face to face.

  Kissing my lips very softly, he braced both sides of my face with his hands while on his elbows. He kissed my lips again then he kissed my nose. When he made his way to both cheeks and up to my eyelids, I felt my eyes prickle with tears from the confusion I felt and the fear I couldn’t ignore.

  “Tesoro, don’t be like that,” he whispered into my lips, “you weren’t supposed to see that. Let’s just move on, baby,” he said as he settled himself between my legs.

  I kissed him back remembering to be a good girl and because of everything I was feeling from the worry, the violence, and the suspicions I had, I was bracing myself for the inevitable changes, but exhaustion took over with the relief I felt that he was still tender with me.

  I wanted to be comforted by his love, though his affections were confusing. I didn’t know what to trust, my gut feelings or his actions?

  My instincts were telling me this was a charade still and I shouldn’t let myself have the wool pulled over me again. But in the light of the day, where his tenderness was addicting and his soft voice was hypnotizing, I preferred it to the nightmare of the man I met last night.

  When Giorgio finished slaying me in the throes of passion, he gathered me up in his arms and carried me to the bathroom to run me a bath.

  Sitting in the water, having him run a sponge over my bare back, I needed space to clear my head. I needed time away from him to decide... I didn’t even know what.

  I was feeling smothered with his kindness.

  I mustered what I hoped was a sincere smile and told him I had been wanting to do some shopping if that was okay with him. To my surprise he was very pleased I wanted to waste his money.

  In the year we’ve been married, I hadn’t once used his money without him. He’s always provided for everything, thinking ahead and even having my meals delivered or made by the housekeeper whenever he couldn’t attend them.

  My closet was full of his purchases and the little amount of clothes I brought with me from home. I never felt the need for anything more
.

  “I’ll take a cab and leave the car here for you. I’m glad you want to finally venture out, bella. It’ll be good for you. Don’t even worry about the cost, if you like it—it’s yours, got it?”

  “Okay, sure,” I replied.

  He kissed my temple and stood to get ready.

  When I got out of the bath, I put on a robe and sent him off for the day with a kiss as I always had; all of it was stilted for me, normal as usual for him.

  I got dressed and decided…I wanted to make my mother’s bread.

  I needed the comforts of home.

  I needed to distract my mind with searching for the ingredients, kneading, pounding the dough and waiting for its rise. I was going to call home and touch base with everyone. I needed my family to help clear my mind.

  I asked the concierge to call the driver and waited feeling like I was holding my guts in my hands, knowing I was going to have to look Marco in the eye after getting him in trouble.

  Only it wasn’t Marco who pulled up.

  And it wasn’t anyone I knew who stepped out to open the back door for me.

  Instead it was a man named Pasquale who would be my driver from now on.

  Sitting in the back during the ride over to Little Italy, I had to stomach the regret for who knows what consequence I caused Marco to pay with.

  About a week later I made my first friend in the city, Nora Adair.

  She was a sweet, animated Irish girl learning English in the free class I enrolled in, at the Manhattan New York Public Library.

  We attended twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays for two hours each day and they were jam packed with immigrants from all over the world.

  It was just the respite I needed from the life I learned I was actually living.

  She was a green-eyed brunette like me, fair skinned to my olive, and just about the same height of petite as me.

  We could pass for sisters, and from the way we were inseparable during our classes and study sessions anyone would think we were, as long as you didn’t notice the differences of our butchered English accents.

  Gio seemed to know I needed space and gave it to me without me having to ask.

 

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