Page 69 of Wretched Choices

“What? Buying fruits?”

“No, this place. Usually, before noon, it is alive with people. Each one of them has their own story. They live for this. I usedto come here with my mama. We used to come here every few days to buy supplies for home.” She pulls me toward the end of the street and shows me a gelato shop. “We used to eat gelato afterward. Come, it’s tradition.” She pulls me into the small shop.

An old man stands behind the gelato display freezer, and he smiles brightly when he sees Isabella. So does she, and she walks into his open arms.

I just watch as she talks to the man and tells him about her life and where she has been, what she has done. When she introduces me as her husband, I feel a strange sensation in my chest, like butterflies. I can’t explain it. But what is new to me is how she is in her element here, like she belongs here.

“What flavor would you like, Salvatore?”

“What?” I realize I was staring at her; I didn’t catch what she was asking.

“Gelato. You like fruits, chocolate, nuts. My favorite is pistachio. You should try one.”

“I’ll take whatever you take,” I say, ignoring the fact that I haven’t eaten anything sweet in years.

With a gelato in hand, the sun burns our skin as we stroll through the promenade of the beautiful lungomare where boardwalks are lined with beautiful palm trees, bars, and restaurants.

“I used to come here when my father was out of town. He was so protective of me when I was younger. I thought it was innocent, that he did that just because I was his daughter and he just loved me. I didn’t even know he was head of ‘Ndrangheta.” She laughs sarcastically. “When I used to ask him what his job is, he would say that he was a leader and that men worked for him. First, I thought he was a politician because lots of men followed him around. Some of them had weapons. When I grew up and saw the world differently, understood better, I figured since hespent so much time away from home, he could be the owner of a big company. I was fifteen when my curiosity got the better of me, and I did some digging about my father. One time, I sneaked behind the trees and heard the terrible things he ordered his soldiers to do. Then, after all my discoveries, I asked my mother. As soon as I asked her, she grew pale and weak. It was all I needed to know.” She stops and turns toward the sea, resting her elbows on high stone railings. “Not long after that, my father told me the truth, not that I knew what the mafia meant. I always thought the values I was raised with were because my mother was a devout Catholic, and she raised me to be one. I never knew most of those values were mafia-related. Not until the night my mother was killed. How was I to know that the father who loved me and cared for me was a killer? The head of the mafia.”

I don’t say a word; I stand beside her, and I let her speak what is in her heart, whatever memories this place has brought back to her.

She lifts her head toward the sun. “My father and mother kept secrets from me. My mother from fear, my father... I like to lie to myself and say he wanted to protect me, but we both know that is not the truth.”

I place my hands at both sides of her body. “I don’t know your father’s reasons, but he seems to care about you.”

She scoffs and turns to face me. “Maybe in his own twisted way he does.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “But that doesn’t matter either way. We are going back home, and you can forget about him. When our agreement is over, you will live the way you want.”

If I were the better man, I would acknowledge the hurt in her eyes the moment I mentioned our agreement and how it will expire.

But I’m not.

What Isabella and I have is business and nothing else. At least, that’s what I tell myself, but pain strikes through my chest at the thought of us having an expiry date.

No matter what her father asked, that will never happen. I have a year to end everything, but according to my plans, I will need less. Much less.

twenty-eight

Isabella

No matter how hard Salvatore tried to keep me distracted, I barely made it through lunch.

I used to love having lunch here at this same spot; I have some wonderful memories here. Thinking about it now, I realize I don’t have many bad memories at all. But those memories are based on lies I was told. Or was I kept in the dark for my own sake?

It doesn’t matter. All I believed was erased the night when my father killed my mother and he threatened to kill me if I ever left him. That night changed me. I became anxious and afraid, had panic attacks.

When I escaped and ran where my mother told me to, I found a safe place in between nuns and in the house of God. Unfortunately, not even God could help me with the monsters. Those who helped me paid the price after I left for America.

So, how not to be afraid of the monster in front of me?

Even if he didn’t speak with me at the table and his focus was on Salvatore and their deal, I knew he would speak to me, so when I excused myself to use the bathroom, I wasn’t surprised to be cornered by him. Strangely, I wasn’t afraid. I may need to thank Salvatore for that. And my father telling me he wanted to make amends was shocking, but not as shocking as his next words.

“I shouldn’t have done that. Killing your mother. She was the love of my life. She promised me forever. I let my anger and hurt take over because I couldn’t imagine life without her in it.”

“How could you kill someone you claimed to love?” I asked, hurt crushing my chest as I fought the tears.

His eyes shone, and I’m sure I saw a tear in his eye that was gone the moment he blinked. “Your mother and I vowed to each other to never leave one another, never, and she was the one who broke the promise. She knew that if she ever tried to leave me, I would kill her. No matter the reason. She was used to all my dealings and did whatever I told her. I loved her. I never took a mistress like the others. I loved her too much to do that.”

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