Page 100 of Forgive Me, Father

The guy was all muscle, solid and imposing, and when he shook my hand, he put real force behind it.I couldn’t help but smile to myself.If he knew what I was capable of, he wouldn’t have shaken my hand quite so firmly.

Loretta was making her way over, and I could already feel the tension building.

"Choose another table," I called out in Italian, my voice carrying across the room.Without missing a beat, she shot me the finger, her expression smug, and walked smoothly to a different table.

Camilla couldn’t hold back a laugh, the sound light and genuine.She didn’t need to speak the language to know exactly what I’d said.

Fiona chuckled too, but there was an edge to her amusement as Luca, my younger brother, and his plus one, approached.He was getting married at the end of the year, but the girl next to him wasn’t his fiancée.She was a distraction, nothing more.

I made the introductions, and he shook Camilla’s hand.Then Paulo and his friend joined us, their easygoing energy filling the space.Paulo was one of the better cousins—quiet, reserved, but with a good head on his shoulders, which wasn’t saying much when it came to our family.

“Paulo,” he said, introducing himself to Camilla.Her response was warm, her voice sweet as she shook his hand.“Alfonso,” he said, making eye contact with my brother.

“Paulo,” I repeated, offering a nod.

The luncheon officially began with the usual clinking of glasses and murmurs of polite conversation.I couldn’t help but smile as Nonna was led out by my aunt, her steps slow but defiant.I’d been right, my aunt had dragged her here despite her protests.

She didn’t speak, didn’t wave.But when her eyes locked with mine across the crowd, she raised two fingers in my direction, subtle, sharp, and perfectly timed.I chuckled.She hated every second of this charade.

I never should’ve told my father where she’d been hiding, but she was eighty-two now.Even if she didn’t look a day over sixty, she’d earned a celebration.Still, I’d make sure she disappeared again once this was over.She deserved her peace and her freedom.

My father stood from his seat and the lunch grew quiet.

“Good afternoon, everyone.If I could have your attention for just a moment.”Dad raised his glass of champagne, staring at Nonna.

“Today, we’re gathered to celebrate not just another year, but a remarkable life, my mother’s life.Eighty-two years.It feels almost impossible to capture that kind of time, that kind of strength, in words.But I’ll try, because if anyone deserves the effort, it’s her.”

A couple of soft laughs came from tables around us.Just then, Camilla leaned in, her floral perfume curling around me like a whispered invitation.It hit me all at once—warm, sweet, intoxicating.My pulse quickened.

She didn’t have to touch me to unravel me.Her presence alone could do it.

I just wanted to eat my runaway, and I was stuck at this luncheon.

“Mom,” my father carried on, “you’ve been the anchor of this family for as long as I can remember.Strong, stubborn,unapologeticallyso, and full of a kind of quiet grace that only a few truly understand.You’ve taught me more through your actions than words ever could: how to love without conditions, how to stand your ground, and how to show up for the people you care about, even when it’s hard.”

Camilla’s hand trailed from my leg to the apex of my thighs and she squeezed my bulge.I stared at her, but she just chuckled at something that was said.Not that she understood Italian.Once more, everyone around us did as they wanted and disregarded my wishes.I was getting tired of the disrespect being paid to my wife.

“I remember the little things—how your hands always smelled like lavender and flour, the way you hummed while cooking, the way you could silence a room with just one look.And I remember the big things, too.How you held this family together during the hardest times.How you never asked for praise, even when you deserved the world.”

I let her play with me for now.My hand cupped her hand, and I showed her how to squeeze me.Her gaze fluttered to me and I smiled.But when I looked at her, I couldn’t stop staring at the way her teeth dented softly into her lower lip.

She was a goddess.

“You are not just a mother.You’re a force of nature, a survivor, and the original backbone of this family.

“And even though I sometimes gave you reasons to worry, or to yell, let’s be honest, you never stopped believing in me.You never gave up onanyof us.That belief, that love, shaped me into the man I am today.And for that, I will always be grateful.

“So here’s to you, Mom.For eighty-two extraordinary years.For the life you’ve built.For the love you’ve given.And for the fire that still burns in you, just as strong as ever.

Happy birthday.I love you.”Dad raised his glass.“To Mom.”

Everyone raised their glasses, including the two of us.

Only when the waiting staff placed our plates in front of us did her hand leave my painfully engorged cock.Today was going to be a long day in this chair.

Camilla made polite conversation with Fiona, asking about the past few months, her voice smooth but distant.She wasn’t really listening—I could see it in the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, in the faint disinterest woven through her tone.

They deserved that coolness.They’d treated her like a footnote, like she was just part of some transaction sealed with a ring.But she was so much more than that.

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