Page 38 of The Vatican
The tension was thick enough to feel suffocating.
Francisco was the first to speak. “I called this meeting because I refuse to allow us all to be anything other than the family we’ve always been.” I couldn’t help the pride I felt at how commanding he sounded in a room full of hardened killers. He was speaking as if The Holy Trinity didn’t have the power to snuff him out, and they did. “However,” he continued, “I’m not the one who feels like they were wronged here. I feel like you guys put me in a difficult spot, but I take responsibility for not taking what was mine when I should have.” I felt the tip of his fingers under my chin, and when he tilted my head up to look at him, he looked down at me and said, “I’m sorry, Luca. I should have taken this situation in hand that night.” Even though our mothers didn’t know about the night I killed Trent Hendricks, the men in the room knew what he was referring to.
I just have him a tight nod and, when he let go of my chin, I turned to my mother. She looked composed, but the misery was there in her yellow eyes for anyone who was paying attention to see. And I knew my father was paying attention. “I think I’m mad at you most, Mom,” I told her, and she lifted her chin, ready to take the assault. “You left Dad, Uncle Ciro, and Uncle Luca for six years because they left you out of the loop over something you felt you deserved to know. You felt betrayed enough that you left the man you loved, the only sibling you had, and your very best friend because they didn’t tell you they were becoming official Benetti Family members, even when you knew deep down that’s what they were eventually going to become.” Her eyes watered, but no tears fell. “We all know this story like the back of our hands. And even when they went and got you, you still fought tooth and nail because you were still hurt six years later. After everything you went through, how could you do this to me? How?”
“Because I wasn’t thinking,” she admitted. “Because all I saw was how you and Francisco were special. Because I wanted you to have it all, and I knew he could give it to you when you kids got older. Because I was being selfish.” It was hard to argue with honesty. She didn’t make up excuses or plead for forgiveness. I asked a question, and she answered it with no bullshit.
I looked at my Dad. “And you?” I asked. “Didn’t you think I deserved someone who looked at me like you look at Mom?”
“You have that,” he replied equably.
“Maybe,” I conceded. “But at the time you made this decision for me, you couldn’t have known that.” I looked at all of them. “None of you could have known that Benetti would have come to care about me like that.” I wasn’t ready to say he loved me because I was still wrestling with my pride and I still had doubts. “There was every chance that you were saddling me with someone who’d tolerate me at best.” My voice cracked and my heart felt like it was breaking. “How you could guys love each other so damn much but still risk my heart on some fanciful whim of yours?”
“Ria, it didn’t feel like a risk,” Aunt Remy said. “We knew Francisco held you dear to his heart early on. I’m not saying we couldn’t have gone about it a different way, but it didn’t feel like a risk.”
I looked over at my aunt, my chest heavy and hollow at the same time. “Aunt Remy, for the rest of my life, I will never know what you six have. Don’t you get that?”
Her pretty face scrunched up. “What do you mean?”
“If Benetti truly does love me, I’ll never know if it’s because he really did fall in love with me because we’re destined for each other, or if he fell in love with me because you guys guided his decisions and manipulated his emotions to believe he was supposed to,” I explained. “I will never know the absolute security in knowing that my husband loves me more than anything in the world because he can’t help himself. Every time he tells me he loves me, I’m going to have these pockets of doubt, wondering if he loves me because what we have is real, or if he loves me because it’s what was expected of him by all of you.” I wiped at the tears that escaped. “And that fucking hurts.”
My mom’s tears finally escaped, and her sob was heartfelt. “Oh, Ria…” Aunt Robbie was already in tears, and Uncle Ciro had to pull her from her chair and wrap her up in his arms. And Aunt Remy looked gutted.
“I don’t know how to watch you guys be in love with each other and not resent you for it,” I told them honestly. “So, I’m not going to apologize for being angry. And I’m not going to apologize later when I don’t want to celebrate my anniversary or go on couples’ vacations or any of that shit.”
“Saveria…” My dad stopped himself. He couldn’t continue, and I didn’t feel bad about it.
“We can’t change what’s been done,” Uncle Luca said, finally speaking. “What do you need from us now? That’s all we can give you, Luca. We can’t give you a gateway to the past, or else, believe me, I would. So, what do you need from us now?”
I looked over at the man who gave me everything. The man who made it possible for my family to have everything they had. The man who brought us all together in a way that even blood families couldn’t fathom. I looked at him and the crash hit me hard and violently.
I started crying, and it was gut-wrenching sobs I felt from my soul.
I stood up and pain radiated from every part of me. “How could you?!” I screamed at him. “You gave me your son, but you took away my ability to love someone freely and completely!” I didn’t care who I hurt with my words. I needed to purge this helpless feeling that was threatening to pull me under. “You robbed me of the very thing you hold above everything else!”
“What do you want from us, Luca?” He asked again, his voice tortured. “I will give you whatever is in my power to give you.”
I felt Francisco’s hand on my shoulder, and it burned. “Don’t touch me,” I begged, my voice razor sharp. His hand fell away as I took in my mom, my dad, Uncle Ciro, Aunt Robbie, Uncle Luca, and Aunt Remy. “I…I don’t know,” I whispered brokenly.
“We’re so sorry,” Uncle Ciro said. “We really are, Ria.”
I wiped at the tears on my face and took a few deep breaths. I really didn’t know what to do, but I hadn’t forgotten what Francisco had told me outside either. So, I gathered the courage to push my feelings aside and do the right thing. “I don’t hate you guys,” I said. “I’m hurt and saddened, but those feelings won’t be forever. I’ll heal. I’ll move on.” Aunt Robbie started crying harder and Uncle Ciro looked broken. “I’ll also honor my marriage. I won’t seek a divorce and I’ll give Benetti the wife he’s deserving of and the children that are expected of him. I won’t let this tear apart my family and I won’t let this…steal my happiness. It just might take some time.”
And then, Uncle Luca said the one thing none of us would have ever expected. “I’ll support an annulment, if that is what you wish, Luca.” Then he pointedly nodded towards the marks on my neck. “Or a divorce if that is what’s needed.”
Before I could agree or disagree, Francisco was standing in front of me, his arms wrapped around me from behind him. “Over my dead body will I allow her to divorce me,” he seethed. “I will see everyone burn in Hell before I let you guys come between me and my wife.”
Everyone froze.
Everyone except me.
I reached up and pulled on his suit jacket until he was facing me. He looked positively lethal as he said, “They’ll have to kill me before I let you go, Luca.”
I couldn’t speak. He sounded like I’d always hoped my husband would sound when faced with the choice. “Let’s go home, yeah?” I whispered.
He shook his head.“Tell them.”
I stepped around him and addressed Uncle Luca’s offer. “That won’t be necessary, Uncle Luca. Just…give me time to figure it out. That’s all I need. Can you do that?”
