Page 6 of Unbroken Promises

I know what he’ll see when he looks at me. Red, blotchy skin. Swollen eyes from days of crying. I’m sure my curls are a total disaster too, but I just don’t have the energy to care. God knows he’s seen me looking worse than this before.

“Wanna talk about it?” Caleb’s soft smile doesn’t meet his eyes as he gives me a once over. My face crumbles as I start sobbing once more, throwing myself into the comfort of my brother’s strong embrace. “Shhh. It’s okay, Smarty. You’re going to be okay. Shhh.”

I blink blearily against the dying rays of the fading sunset. I remember crying myself to sleep with Caleb holding me tightly in his arms. Beyond that, I vaguely remember waking just enough to find him carrying me to his car, wrapped tightly inmy favorite throw blanket, before I was tucked into the backseat, and being driven away from my home of the last nine months.

“Smarty! You’re awake!”

Startled, I jerk slightly, pulling the blankets more tightly around my shoulders, and breathe a sigh of relief when I see it’s just Caleb. Crumpled awkwardly into a too small reading chair, he must have pulled it up next to the bed, and fallen asleep watching over me. My chest tightens with guilt as I watch him struggle to untangle his awkward limbs as he sits up, while reaching for my hand. I do this too much, make him worry about me. I hate that this isn’t the first time I have woken to finding him sitting vigil by my bedside, worry creasing his features.

“I- “My voice cracks, parched after countless hours of crying. I swallow roughly before trying again. “How long was I asleep?” My voice still comes out on a croak, and Caleb quickly reaches over to the nightstand, before handing me a glass of water.

“You were out for a full day. Probably exhausted from all the crying. Sierra said you had been like that for at least a week by the time I got here.” I gulp greedily at the water, until the glass is empty, before handing it back to my brother once more. “Wanna talk about it?”

By ‘it,’ he of course is referring to theincident. The one in which my boyfriend of over a year, the love of my life, broke up with me; crushed my heart and ripped it to shreds, and left it lying on the floor.No, I do not want to talk about ‘it.’My eyes well once more at the reminder, and they begin to fall in earnest as I shake my head, lying back on the pillows once more.

“Danni, what happened? Things were so good between you two, and now this? I just, I don’t understand.” It’s hard to make out my brother’s face through the tears leaking like acid down my painfully blotchy cheeks. It hurts to cry. But I guess it’s better than feeling dead inside.

“I. . .don’t . . . know. . .” The words are broken up by sobs. I really don’t know what’s wrong with me. It can’t be normal to cry like this. I feel so unhinged. I didn’t really cry like this when I found out Bradley had died; nor when I found out that the love of my life had murdered him and covered it up. Not like this anyway. Clearly, I am broken.

“Thank you so much for coming. I just, I didn’t know what else to do. She finally stopped crying but she won’t get out of bed. She barely eats anything. I’m at my wits end.” I can hear the exasperation in Caleb’s voice in the hall, but the murmured reply is too soft for me to catch.

Caleb really has tried everything. After flying out here to come check on me himself, and dragging me out of my dorm to his rental place didn’t fix it, he called in the calvary. First Finn came down from Seattle. Then he went so far as to fly Bash in from New Jersey, though he had to turn right back around to get back to practice the next day. Nothing has been able to drag me out of this funk though. I know I should feel bad, instead I just feel. . . empty. For all the shit Brad put me through last year, all the times he beat me and raped me, even after he put me in the hospital. . . Theo did the one thing Bradley never could. He truly broke me.

I am lying with my back to the door when it is thrown open with a loud bang, though I don’t even flinch.

“Mio Dio, cos'è questa puzza?”

That gets my attention. I bolt upright, tossing aside the throw blanket I have been wrapped in for days.

“Ma!” My jaw drops in shock at the sight of seeing Theo’s mother standing in the middle of my temporary bedroom. “What are you doing here?”

Nose wrinkled in disgust, most likely at the sight of me- I’m sure, she simply shakes her head. “What do you think I’m doing here, my girl? Your brothers called me, practically in tears, begging me to come out here to help you. Three grown men!” Elena gives me a once over with her critical eye, shaking her head. “Mio Dio, ragazza. Guardati!” She tsks, muttering under her breath as she moves closer, and grabbing my hands as she sits next to me on the bed.

“Now. Here’s what’s going to happen. First, you are going to shower. Then, you are going to tell me what that son of mine has done. Then, you are going to eat. Look at you! You are practically wasting away!” She eyes me critically, and whatever she sees must not meet her approval, because before I know it, she is back on her feet and ushering me to do the same.

“Up. Get up. Now. Let’s go.” Not taking ‘no’ for an answer, Elena pulls with a surprising amount of strength for someone so petite. Before I know it, I am being maneuvered down the hall into the bathroom, stripped of my clothing and shoved into a scalding hot shower. “Now, can you manage to bath yourself, or must I help you with that as well.”

My laugh sounds foreign to my ears, rusty from disuse over the last few weeks. “No Mrs. Giovanni. I can bathe myself.”

More tsks sound from outside of the shower curtain. “I was ‘Ma’ when I entered the room, now I am ‘Mrs. Giovanni’? I think not! Now, get to work!”

With that, I hear the door close forcefully behind her as she leaves.

It takes a surprising amount of effort to bathe. Who knew crying for days on end could be so exhausting? But eventually, I manage to bring myself once more to a semblance of my former self. Stepping out of the shower, I roughly dry myself off and throw my hair into a loose braid, not wanting to deal with the tangle of curls that has gone unmanaged for far too long. As I step into the hall, I am bombarded by the comforting smells of Elena’s delicious Italian fare, and I follow my nose to the kitchen, where I see her working away at one of the counters. My brother is noticeably absent.

“Sit.” She gestures to the stool at the bar with the knife she had been using to chop veggies. Unwilling to cross her with her vaguely threatening tone, I do as she says. “Now,” she slides a bowl full of heaping, mouthwatering pasta in front of me, “talk.”

I stare at the food, unseeing, as I try to process that loaded command.Where do I even start?When I don’t speak, she starts for me.

“Alright. I know you found out that boy of mine did what he had to do with your brother and their friends to deal with that horrible Bradley boy.” Well, shit, this is news to me. I thought it had just been Theo. But then, I guess that makes sense. They had already been doing everything together to try and help me up until that point.

“What you probably do not know, though you may have already gathered, is that that boy of mine is a protector. He has been protecting people long before you came into his life.” She continues chopping away, throwing veggies and seasonings into the sizzling pan as she speaks, never making eye contact with me as she does so. “My husband. . .he was not a good man. He was cruel. The leader of the local mafia and feared by all who crossed his path. My Theo,” she pauses for a moment, as if to gather her thoughts. “He saw what his father did to me. He was raised with the expectation that he would do the same. I tried to protest. My boy was too sweet, too soft for the cruelness my husband wanted to instill. But my Eduardo, he was determined to have his way.”

I sit entranced, barely daring to breathe as I hang on to every word that Elena is willing to share. Neither she nor Theo ever spoke about their past much, nor aboutthe man who had been the head of their family. I drank this news in like I was dying of thirst, too afraid to speak and break this moment of narrative that I had been graced with.

“Often, Eduardo would make Theo watch when he decided I needed to be punished, or made an example of. Often, I would be punished as a manner of discipline when Theo made a mistake, as incentive to reach for perfection. He knew I was Theo’s weakness. Any time Theo tried to step in, my husband would punish Theo after he was done with me; when I was too injured to step in and try to stop him. He took Theo with him to work on many occasions. Tried to show him what it means to be a ‘true Giovanni” leader. Not ‘weak’ like his younger brother Dante. Theo was made to do terrible things. Unspeakable things, as just a boy. Things a child should never have to see or do. But this was our reality. This was the world in which we lived. And I know you are probably wondering why I didn’t just leave? Take Theo in the night and just run.”

Elena shakes her head sadly, lost in her own musings. “But you see, his resources were great. He had connections in every branch of law enforcement and the military. There truly was nowhere for me to run. If I had, he would simply have killed me and made Theo watch, before dragging my little boy back to a much worse fate.”

---