Page 26 of Depths of Obsession
“No! Your father would never do that,” my mother protests, her eyes widening in shock.
“He’s in debt again, isn’t he?” I steel myself against the pain I know is coming, my heart pounding in anticipation.
“No,” my mother says, but I can tell she’s lying. Her voice always takes on a breathy quality when she lies. “Mama, tell the truth. How much is he in debt for?”
“Cinque milioni,” she says, her voice a mere whisper.
I can’t breathe. That amount of money is insane. My chest tightens, and I feel lightheaded. “How…? How could he be in debt that much?”
My mother’s eyes fill with tears, but she just gives a small shrug. “Non so…”
“But don’t you have the money to pay that off? I know Papa made a lot of money through the years. He should be able to pay that off, no?”
“Cara, it’s not so easy… now that your father isn’t working the same way. There’s no money coming in.”
“But surely he saved for retirement. He had to know that he couldn’t work forever.”
“It’s not so easy,” she says again, her shoulders slumping.
My stomach plummets to my knees, a hollow ache spreading through me. “He’s gambled it all away, hasn’t he? There’s nothing left is there?” I know it in my bones. My father has bankrupted us.
Tears fall down my mother’s face as she nods her head. “Non è rimasto niente. Niente. Nothing. He sold the summer house. Said we don’t need it anymore.”
“Oh, Mama, that was your favorite place,” I say, my voice breaking as tears start to fall down my cheeks as well. I have so many fond memories of the summer house on Lake Lugano. It was also my favorite place. We went every summer, and I learned to swim there. Mia, Luna, and I came back to spend the whole summer in Lugano every year. It was full of boat rides and barbecues. The most fun, carefree place on earth for me. It was the only place my father didn’t abuse my mother and me. He had been happy there as well. And now it’s gone.
My mother frowns at me. “Where are you? Why do you look sobrutta?”
And just like that, a lot of my empathy for my mother dries up. Nothing like being called ugly by a parent. “I’m safe, Mama. I just woke up and haven’t had time to get in the shower yet.”
“Just woke up? It’s the middle of the afternoon.” She shakes her head as if I’ve been out partying all night. “You need to be careful,angioletta. Don’t do anything that will damage your reputation. Even if we can stop this marriage you still have to find someone. Men won’t like it if you have a reputation.”
“Oh, my God. What is this? Nineteen fifty? No one cares, Mama.”
“Yes, they do. If Aldo had just given us a bit of notice, we could have had you married off first, before Mia. Then you would have had a better choice. Luna, too. But he made the deal with Valdici without telling your father, and then it was too late. You don’t have the pedigree you did.”
“Just stop talking. You are making this worse. I’m not a prize horse up for auction. I’m not marrying Gazzago or anyone else. Just…no.” I can’t believe I have to have this conversation with my mother again and again. It’s like she’s stuck back in time.
She looks over her shoulder and then back at me, her eyes weary. “Qualcuno viene alla porta. I will do what I can. Gazzago is a beast, but,” she gives a small shrug, “it’s out of my hands.Ti amo, angioletta,” she says and then blows a kiss before she kills the call.
I stare at the blank screen. My mother has been keeping secrets from me. I want to be angry, but honestly, I don’t blame her. If she told me, I would yell at my father. Last time I yelled at him about his gambling, he hit me. Then he hit her for telling me. And not just once. He beat her. That was the end of me caring about my father. The anger I feel now is cold, settled deep in my bones, an ache that I don’t think will ever go away.
I slowly pull on a pair of jeans and a lightweight black sweater. I pull my hair into a messy bun and stare at myself in the mirror. My mom is right. I look like hell. Too fucking bad. I just don’t have the energy to bother making myself look better.
“Pippa, are you alright?”
“Luna?” I say as I walk over and open the door. Luna is standing there with a mug of coffee in one hand and a pastry in the other. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze tightly, my eyes stinging with unshed tears.
“Easy. I don’t want to spill the coffee.”
“How did you get here?” I demand, pulling back, my voice shaky.
“Mia said you might need some cheering up.” She offers me the coffee. “From your favorite cafe. They don’t love doing the to-go thing, but I convinced them it was an emergency. And here… Breakfast.”
I take the pastry and the coffee and follow Luna out to the living area. I take my first sip of coffee, and I swear I can hear angels singing. It’s rich, warm, and the bitterness grounds me, giving me a moment of peace amidst the shitshow my life has become.
“This is some place,” Luna says, her eyes wide as she looks around before parking her butt on a stool at the breakfast bar.
“Yeah. Gorgeous,” I say, glancing around. The sun is streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the view of Milano is amazing. For a moment, I allow myself to appreciate the beauty of the city, the warmth of the sun on my skin. It’s fleeting, but it’s something.
