Page 13 of Bruno
“It was.”
“But was it better than what you put me through? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be a twenty-year-old single pregnant girl? College was over for me. Although I went back later, at the time, it seemed like I lost everything. I’d dreamed of becoming a doctor. I spent most of my life helping others. Patching up whoever would let me. But it wasn’t just losing that opportunity. You went home and faced guns and bullets, and I would rather have faced a million of them over my parent’s disappointment.”
“I know it couldn’t have been easy—”
“You have no idea.” The words slip out more passionately than I intended. I thought I had buried the anger and abandonment. Forgotten how deep the wound had cut. Assumed it had healed, but here it was, oozing vile contempt, and I was powerless to stop it. Words I’d never imagined saying to anyone poured out. “I don’t regret one moment of being pregnant or having Chris. I could have gone back to school and continued with medical school. Pregnancy might delay some things, but it doesn’t have to stop it. But I didn’t want to. I didn’t want the late-night shifts and endless studying. It was a struggle to get my nursing license, but I found a job as an elementary school nurse that allowed me to have the same days off as my son. I love working with the kids and running my own office.”
My chest is heaving, and my face is wet. I thought I had buried all those emotions, but seeing him again unearthed them. Like cicadas emerging from hiding. I had many reasons to be angry with him, and I vented them all, and he took it. Until I had no more words left.
With the storm spent, he simply says, “I know.” Those two words were like rocks striking together to create a spark. But before I could ignite again, he continues. “I deserve every bit of the hate you’re throwing my way. But I still can’t bring myself to change a thing. You were my angel. You were the one thing in my life that wasn’t tainted with filth. I used to look at you and think she’s just so pure. The preacher’s girl.”
“Oh, puh-leez.” I huff when he uses the two words guaranteed to set me off. “I was never that innocent. You saw what you wanted to see.”
“Maybe. But I saw it just the same. You weren’t part of the life. Knew nothing about it, and that’s part of what attracted me to you. But when I really jumped into my family’s business, I drowned. Drowned in blood and gore, and there was no way I would’ve dragged you down with me. We were young, so young. Would I handle it differently now? Yes. But that doesn’t mean how I handled it back then was wrong.”
He stands up, and I stare at his back as he walks away. Was he right? Maybe. But I still couldn’t shake the anger and betrayal. I’m not ready to forgive him or let go. Not yet. Not ever. I had a new life without him, and that’s how it will stay—has to…
Chapter 5
“I’m bored,” Christopher complains, plopping down on the couch. The spotty Wi-Fi has been driving him crazy for the past three days. Christopher takes after Carlo more than me in terms of bulk, but that’s fine. I don’t expect him to be just like me. Actually, it makes me happy to see a reflection of my family in my son. During our last virtual family gathering, Christopher seemed open to meeting and getting to know his uncles. He started off cautiously but eventually warmed up to them. It reminded me of Mariano, the analyzer and lawyer. It’s a valuable trait to possess. Attia mentioned that Christopher is good at math, which likely comes from Matteo, the accountant. The ability to think strategically comes from both me and my father. Chris says he doesn’t want this life, and I’m okay with that. I had it forced upon me too early. If he chooses a different path, I’ll support him. But every day, I see enough of myself in him to know that he’s meant for this lifestyle. His intelligence, strength, focus, and strategic thinking would make him a great leader. He also knows how to hold a fucking grudge.
When he sighs again, I close my laptop. Patience is a crucial quality for a leader, but Christopher has very little of it. I remind myself that he’s only fifteen and still has a lot of growing to do. “I’ve been thinking, and I have something to show you,” I say.
“What?” he responds coolly, his face expressionless, though his eyes flicker with interest.
Attia walks into the room, absentmindedly wiping her hands on her jeans. I’m jealous of their freedom to touch her body so casually. So jealous that it takes me a moment to respond as I walk around the desk and hand them each a box. Christopher eagerly tears into his box and exclaims, “No fucking way.” He shouts.
“Chris,” Attia warns, “watch your language.” Her words trail off when she sees the .22 caliber gun I’ve given him.
Her eyes lock onto mine, and she repeats Christopher’s words, except her gaze burns with anger, and she adds, “Absolutely not.”
“He should be able to protect himself. Both of you should,” I explain.
Her hands tremble as she lifts her box. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for water. “Is that what this is? You bought me a gun? Bought a gun for our child? What were you thinking?”
“Christopher, give your mother and me a few minutes to talk.” His eyes dart between us. If he has an opinion, he makes it known as his hands clutch the box. He starts to leave, but hesitates until his mom nods quickly. It doesn’t bother me that he relies on her for everything, but I long for the day when he seeks my approval, too.
He walks by and gives me a sympathetic look before shaking his head. “Leave the gun,” Attia commands, and he hands her the box without his usual arguments or backtalk. Especially not when she appears fiercer than my father ever did.
“How…” Attia begins but can’t finish her sentence.
“He needs to learn. I was younger than him when I first handled a gun. There are children all over this country who participate in hunting activities and sports.”
“You want him to hunt people?” Her brown eyes are as big as plates.
“I want him to survive if he ever finds himself in a situation where he has no other choice.”
“I can’t.” Attia shakes her head even more violently now. “Bruno, we can’t… He can learn martial arts…”
“Karate only works in close quarters. Do you really want him to be that close to someone with a gun, fighting for his life? Or do you want him to have the ability to stop someone before they get too close?”
“I don’t want him in that situation at all. Can’t you see that neither option is a win?”
“I understand. That’s why I’ve been working so hard for the past fifteen years — fifteen damn years to ensure that neither of you would end up like this. But here we are anyway. I gave you up for nothing. All these fucking years, I couldn’t hold you, I—”
“Okay, alright. We don’t need to revisit the past again,” Attia interrupts.
“Don’t we?” I move closer, stepping into the space she always keeps between us. “How can we ignore it when you treat our past like an impenetrable barrier? I can see through it. God, I’m tired of onlyseeingyou but not being able to touch or hold you. How long do you think you can hide behind it?”
