Page 19 of Death Of A Sinner

“Why? Like, why now? I mean, no, not why, but really? Shit, what am I going to wear?” I get up and start rummaging through my closet.

“I don’t think it matters what you wear,” Tommy tells me.

“It always matters what you wear,” Esther says, walking into my bedroom. “Where you going?”

Tommy and I look at each other. I haven’t told Esther about the boys. I haven’t told her anything about my former life. I didn’t want her seeking them out and putting herselfor themin any danger.

There’s also a huge part of me that doesn’t want her judgment. I know I deserve it. I know what I did was wrong. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to be able to change the past. I could have just stayed. I could have not tried to escape. There are a million things I could have and should have done differently. But I didn’t, and I can’t take that back now.

“Ah, Dad’s bringing me to lunch tomorrow. I want to dress to impress,” I lie.

“Since when do you care what you wear to lunch with Dad?” Esther asks.

“Since I don’t want to let myself go and give him a reason to shop elsewhere,” I tell her.

“Don’t worry, Mum. If any other woman tries to step on your turf, I’ll cut their throats,” Esther fires back. And the scary thing is, I think she actually would do it.

“As if I’d let another woman near me,” Tommy says. “As for you, my little deranged princess, I’m confiscating any knives you have.”

“Have fun finding them all,” Esther replies as she makes a hasty escape from the room. “I’m going out.”

“Hold up,” Tommy yells after her before following our daughter down the hallway.

I’m left staring into my wardrobe. Nothing in here is good enough. I have nothing to wear. What do you wear to meet your children after twenty years?

Nerves fill my body. What are they going to say? What amIgoing to say? Is there even a world where we could build some kind of relationship? I don’t expect them to accept me as a mother figure, but maybe we could be… friends?

Oh god, I’m a disaster.I’m going to screw this whole thing up. I’ve thought about this moment for years, what it would be like to be able to talk to them, hug them, learn about them. There is only so much you can find out online about the De Bellis family.

I know that they’ve started their own whiskey distillery, but I also know that they’ve kept the family business thriving. Although I don’t think they had another option. When you’re at the top of the food chain, so to speak, you can’t really just bow out.

And the De Bellis family? They’ve always been at the top of the food chain here in Melbourne.

I remember when I first met Giovanni. I couldn’t believe that someone like him was interested in someone like me. Someone living paycheque to paycheque. Someone with no real life ambitions, other than to survive. And then my Prince Charming came and swept me off my feet. It was why I didn’t hesitate to say yes when he asked me to marry him.

Who wouldn’t want to marry the most caring, considerate, mindful man they’d ever met? A man who wasn’t just romantic but handsome too…

For a long time, I thought I was blinded by his charm, that I didn’t see the real him. I know that’s not the truth, though. Something happened that flipped a switch in Giovanni’s brain. I don’t know what it was, but he was transformed into a cruel monster. I watched the light drain from his eyes and I couldn’t do anything to save him.

I’ve often wondered if it was the pressure… My father-in-law was killed two years into our marriage. Which meant Giovanni had to take over the family business. I also know he had to become a certain person to do that job. I just never imagined he’d bring that person home with him.

Guess the joke’s on me. I’m literally the type of woman who makes excuses for the abuse she endured. I even blamed myself for a while. Thought I just wasn’t doing enough, wasn’t good enough.

But my boys… They were the light of my life. Even when I couldn’t remember that life, even when I couldn’t remember who I was. It didn’t matter, because I still saw their faces. And I loved those tiny, nameless faces.

And that hasn’t changed. I love them. Each of my boys.

I know they would never believe that, but I do. My feelings for my husband, ex-husband, are much more complicated. I love the Giovanni I married and hate the monster he became. I hate him for taking my children away from me. For the physical abuse. But most of all, I hate that I wasn’t enough for him, because there was a time I would have done anything for that man.

When I found out he’d died, I thought I’d be happy. Relieved. I wasn’t. I wasn’t sad or upset either. I just felt… nothing. I thought I’d go and finally see the boys, since their father wasn’t there to carry out his threats anymore. I wanted to, but I also didn’t want to add any more stress to whatever they were going through.

Now, I need to figure out what I’m going to say to them tomorrow. I have so many questions about their lives, questions I probably don’t deserve to ask. Maybe I should let them do the talking, answertheir questionsthe best I can, and pray that I don’t fuck it up.

ChapterFifteen

“There a reason we’re meeting her here?” I ask Gio.

We’re early. He wanted to set up a fucking folding table and some chairs. Oh, and did I mention we are standing over what’s left of our childhood home? It’s nothing but a bit of burnt-down rubble. Most of it has been cleared away.

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