“I love you, Principessa,” I whispered against her hair and held on tight, afraid that I would lose her for a second time in my life.
Loving her was dangerous. Loving her could break me, but I couldn’t stop myself from doing so. For four years I had tried to deny it, to forget her, but there was no forgetting Francesca Manci. There was only bracing for the wave and hoping it didn’t drown me. So, I held on tight.
I was in love with Francesca. Deeply and madly in love with her. With all her perfect imperfections. Every part of her was made to be loved by me. I only prayed she allowed me to love her like she deserved.
28
FRANCESCA
“You look sour,” Mamma said. I looked at her as she opened one eye to stare at me. “I was just thinking.”
“What about?” Mamma tried adjusting herself on the bed, but she had grown weaker these last few days. Her skin had turned paler, her lips bluer and her appetite had diminished so much she barely ate.
“How could you ever forgive him?” I didn’t want to strain her but that had been on my mind for a long time now.
“Honestly, Francesca, this again?”
“I don’t want to argue, I just…I wanted to understand.”
“Did you know your father and I lived separate lives for a year?”
That pricked my curiosity. “A year?”
“It was right after you were born, it was also when I learned he had a mistress,” Mamma said, but there was no scorn in her voice. “I left and went to my parents’ house and refused to leave.”
I knew that there was a time when Paolo and I barely saw each other. He traveled most of the time and spent his nights in hotels. When he was back in Indianapolis, he would visit his mistress instead of me.
“Did he come after you?”
“He did.” She smiled weakly. “He asked me to come home. I told him to get rid of his bitch and he did…for a while, and we made peace.”
“Why did you?” The thought that I could have grown up without Donato was staggering. I couldn’t imagine how healthy my childhood could have been.
“That was the worst year of my life,” she confessed. “I was angry, and hurt, but living without him was worse than living with him. Forgiveness is a powerful weapon, Cara Mia. You can either be absolved or become its prisoner.”
I sat there speechless and unsure of what to say. Silence remained between us two until Mamma reached for my hand and I took hers. “We must remember that forgiving someone is not only for them but for us, too. Letting go of that rage and hatred can be more freeing than you imagine.”
“You still forgive him?”
“Yes. It doesn’t mean I’m miraculously healed of all the pain he caused. But I didn’t do it for him, I did it for me. Perhaps one day you will be lucky enough to understand what it means to love someone so deeply you are willing to go through all that pain just so you can live a few moments of pure happiness.”
I sat there looking at my Mamma, my head spinning. I had known that kind of love. The love that could take you to heaven but also to Hell. It terrified me that I had never forgotten what that love was like because, with each day that passed, I was slowly falling for Cassio all over again.
“He hurt me, Mamma,” I confessed trying my hardest not to cry.
“I know.” She squeezed my hand with all the strength she had left. Her confession surprised me. “I’m not blind, Francesca, do you think I never noticed?”
“You never said anything.”
“What could I say, Francesca? I couldn’t lie to you and tell you it would be all right. I couldn’t fight when I knew the decision would never be mine to make. In our world, love is a curse.”
I nodded in understanding but at the same time, it hurt to know my mother had known it all along.
“I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.” My mother’s weak voice followed me as I exited her room wanting to get away from here.
I found Cassio standing by the nurse’s desk and when he saw me, I swore his eyes lit up. He said something to one of the nurses and then came my way.
When we were inches apart, he produced from behind his back a lovely bouquet of white tulips. “They were out of purple ones.”