Page 100 of Nanny to the Mafia

I snatched my bag from the wardrobe. I had to get out. If I stayed here for one more day, he would kill me. He might not take a gun to me like I would expect from The Mafia. But he would with his words and actions. My legs wobbled. All the blows he threw at me, I had still been able to get up every time. But this time, it was one too many. No fucking man was worth this. I deserved better. Better than him.

Even though my heart hammered in my chest, I fought through. Filling my small overnight bag, I veered around Rosa and Armando.

I had to change.

I grasped some clothes and took them with me to the bathroom. Haphazardly, I threw some clothes on myself. Gone. Gone was the inner stylist who meticulously chose what I wore every day. I didn’t give a damn anymore.

I just needed to get out first. I would not fall apart. Here. In front of his family. I concentrated on mundane tasks.

Putting one foot in front of the other.

Brushing my teeth.

Upper left side, middle, and right side.

Lower left side, middle, and right side.

Spit.

Brush tongue.

Rinse.

Floss.

Rinse.

Rinse face, cleanser, tonic, eye cream, and face cream.

I caught my face in the mirror.

Do I even care about fucking face cream?

When I opened the door, my phone was ringing. I crossed to the bed to see Antonio’s number. A boost of fury rushed through my body. It spread all over till all I saw was red. Picking up the phone, I smashed it across the room, the splintering metal the only pleasure I could get when the man behind it wasn’t in the room.

“Signora…” Rosa’s voice trembled with emotion.

I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “I’m sorry,” my voice croaked, breaking the awkwardness of the uncomfortable behaviour in the room.

Silent tears fell out against my wishes. Brushing them angrily away, I looked up at Armando “Please… I cannot be here anymore… I—” my breath hitched.

Cora. I didn’t want to leave. That bundle of joy who was probably sitting up in her cot, rocking on her bum, waiting for me. But I couldn’t. If I had seen her, I might not have left. I might have stayed. I might have put myself down again for a man. I might have given up everything for him. I might have let him walk all over me. Again.

“Signora Capizzi, please wait till Signor Capizzi gets home. Whatever it is, it can be resolved—” Armando urged me. He looked like a worried father, except he wasn’t.

“No,” I cut him off. “If I stay, I will lose myself. I will not allow the girl my parents brought up… to be lost.”

I picked up my bag. “Please…” I implored with my eyes to Armando, who was blocking the door. “Give me the respect I deserve.”

Maybe he was like a father to me. With a reluctant sigh, he stepped to the side, and I rushed past him. My rapid steps lost the conviction behind them in the hallway and came to a complete halt outside Cora’s room. Something heavy landed in the pit of my stomach. I rested my forehead on the door, the bag falling out of my hand. Silent tears slid down my cheeks. I could hear her bubbling voice crooning. I wanted nothing more than to rush in and take part in her blabbering conversation.

I can’t do this.

My resolve wavered.

I should stay. In a few weeks, Cora will turn one. Her first birthday. I’ve been planning how to celebrate.

I turned my head to find Rosa and Armando. But all I saw were the images of the damn video playing like it had never stopped. I was sick of not being good enough. I wasn’t good enough to be informed. Wasn’t good enough to be a proper wife. If I wasn’t good enough for him, then I would rather spend my days alone than with a lying, cheating bastard.

---