Page 78 of Vicious Behaviors
She looks at them, then at me. “What’s this?”
“The keys to my new place.”
“You bought another apartment?” she asks, picking up the keys and dropping them into her clutch. “Please tell me it’s better than that mousetrap you bought a few weeks ago.”
I smile. “I think you’ll approve,Mammà.It’s a three-story home with fifteen thousand square feet, seven bedrooms, and ten baths.”
“Hmm. Sounds promising. But where?”
“West Dickens Avenue.”
Her eyes brighten instantly. “Lincoln Park,” she says, practically glowing. “I’m impressed. And how much did you splurge on this new home of yours? Fifteen… twenty… thirty million?” she probes, looking happy for me to finally come to my senses and buy a decent house.
However, I do leave out the part that I’m still keeping the other apartment in the South Side and living there too for the time being. At least while Izzie is still there.
“Now, Mom… aren’t you the one who says talking about money is unseemly?”
“Very true.” She laughs gently, the kind of laugh that always softens her face.
She looks proud of me, unaware that her pride cuts me deeper than she’ll ever know. I don’t deserve her pride or her unconditional love. Still, the lonelier, more vulnerable part ofme soaks it in and tucks it away, storing it somewhere deep, where I can keep it safe.
“Can you go take a look? Work your magic decorating it?” I ask. “You know how busy Father keeps me these days.”
“I’ll try my best, kiddo,” she says sweetly. “Though it would help if you gave some direction on how you want it done.”
“Just keep it clean and minimal. A bed and a working kitchen is all I really need.”
“Of course. Minimal.” Her eyes twinkle. “I’m sure when things get serious, your girlfriend will want to add her personal touches. After all, why buy such a lavish home if the intent behind the purchase wasn’t to share it with someone?”
“Fuck,” I mutter, leaning back. “Walked right into that one.”
“Marcello, language,” she says, pretending to be scandalized.
“Mom, can wenotdo this right now? The moving-in talk, the matchmaking, all of it. I’m barely twenty-two. I’m just starting my life out. It’s too soon to think about such things.”
“Age has nothing on God’s plans for us,” she says warmly. “And besides, you have always been wiser than your years. But I promise not to touch on the subject until you are ready to discuss it. I just want all my children to find their purpose in life and be happy.”
“Who says I’m not happy?” She raises a brow, her soft smile dipping somewhat. “Fine… I’m content. Is that good enough for you?”
“For now,” she says, turning her attention to the waiter carrying the plates to our table.
I love spending time with my mother, just the two of us. But sometimes I wish one of my siblings were here to be a buffer between us. Having Selene Romano’s full attention focused solely on me can be… wearying. Not because she’s unkind, but because she still believes. She still holds tightly onto theshredded ribbons of hope that one day, I’ll have just as much as she does, if not more.
The loving home. The caring family. The soulmate.
My mother has been blessed with all three.
Is it any wonder why she believes I can achieve the same fairytale life that she’s been so fortunate to have? That’s just the kind of mother she is. The kind who wants her children to have the best the world has to offer, even when they’ve long since made peace with less.
What she fails to admit to herself is that I’m not like her.
While my mother is all that is good in the world, I’m the opposite.
She’s life and light… while I’m a black abyss of death.
My life will always reek of blood and duty.
To hope for more is useless.
