Page 61 of Till Death Do Us Part

Hushed voices carry over me, but the words don’t penetrate me. White noise is all I can hear. Men rush to Papá, coming out of nowhere, their hands pressing against his wound to stem the stream of blood that continues to leak through the hole in his stomach.

Time moves slowly—so fucking slowly—as I watch his life leave him. His eyes flutter closed, and in that moment, all I see is darkness. A world without my father isn’t a world worth living in.

I need more time with him.

I need to forgive him.

I needhim.

The same large hands clutch my arms, pulling me up and hauling me into a strong chest. The scent of sandalwood hits me instantly, though the usual comfort doesn’t come as Leonardo carries me to the car.

I should ask where he came from, or how he got here so fast, but words fail me as sobs continue to take over my body. He holds me tightly against his chest, my head resting right where his heart beats.

He says nothing, just runs his hands up and down my back, keeping me close while I break in his arms. I thought I was already broken. A thousand pieces of me already torn up and shredded, but that was nothing compared to this.

The car pulls away, leaving the runway and my heart behind.

A sea of black stares at me when I walk into the church. Men and women sitting in the pews, their eyes focused on the black casket at the end of the aisle. Antonio walks beside me, his hand on my lower back as he pushes me towards the front row.

Appearances matter, apparently—lest me losing my father be a grieving experience and not a public fucking spectacle. My sisters weep, tears spilling down their faces, leaving streaks in their make-up.

All my tears dried up the moment we got back to the penthouse after it all happened. I locked myself in the bedroom, hid under the covers, and refused to come out until today.

Everyone came knocking. Demanding my presence, but I couldn’t give it to them. All I feel is anger. I’m angry at Papá for lying, and I’m even more angry that he abandoned me here to deal with the fall out.

It’s funny when someone dies.

People you never even knew grieve them, as though they meant something to the deceased. And maybe they did. But honestly, who gives a fuck. Men I’ve never met offer handshakes to myhusband;passing their condolences on to him as if losing a father-in-law he never even got to know is somehow painful for him.

The only saving grace in my father’s death is that Antonio hasn’t come near me in days. Hasn’t spoken of getting me pregnant or tried to force himself on me. Small mercies exist.

“Pippa,” Sofia urges, holding her hand out to me when I stop at the end of the aisle, my eyes locked on the closed casket. The metal is shiny, polished to perfection, as if that makes it better that there is a rotting corpse lying inside.

Nobody offered to let me see his body, and now with a closed casket, the goodbye feels final. Blowing out a shuddering breath, I ignore the eyes following me as I walk the final steps to where my father sleeps.

I press my hands against the cold metal, my fingers trembling as I lean over. A single tear spills over my lashes, breaking free while I fight to hold myself together. I press a kiss against the casket, steam cascading over the metal as I exhale.

“Dormi bene, Papá. Mi mancherai per sempre,” I whisper for only his ears, my voice cracking under the weight of the words.

Sleep well, Papá. I’ll miss you forever.

A thick hand curls around my wrist, dragging me away from my father and to our seats. I shake Antonio off, scowling at him as he mutters under his breath, “You are making a scene.

“God forbid I say goodbye to my father,” I grit through clenched teeth, dropping into my seat. My hands shake as I fist them on my lap, my thighs bouncing uncomfortably.

“You forget your place, wife.”

“No, I know my place,” I tell him, a vicious smirk lifting at my lips. “Under men like you, being used and abused until you get what you want from me. Though I’m starting to think I’ve had enough. You know I only went through with this union to keep him happy.”

The words fall out of my mouth before I can even think about what I’m saying—or where I’m saying them. Though, I’m struggling to regret them. Especially when Antonio clenches his jaw, his eyes darkening as he stares ahead.

The fact of the matter is, I don’t know why I’m still here.

Sure, I signed a contract, but I did it to keep my father happy. What’s the point now? He’s gone, yet I’m still here.

“Pippa,” Sofia snaps, her voice taut with frustration while she tugs my hand. “Not here.”

Her anger is understandable, while laughable really, considering she herself said she hated Papá on the day he died. But I let her think she’s won and keep quiet for the ceremony.

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