Page 98 of Giovanna

“You’d have to be blind not to be attracted to him. Or a lesbian I guess. But I’d rather eat glass than ever go there. He’s a soulless manwhore…oh shit, sorry! I forgot you have to marry him for a second!”

Unphased, because her statement is accurate, I just chuckle. “Lucky me!”

It takes a week for Giovanna to call me, wondering where I am. I don’t answer. Then Elio starts calling and I ignore his calls too. Giovanna will have told him to call me anyway.

Sammy and I hang out every day and I enjoy the normalcy of working and having a friend who isn’t a member of the Italian mafia.

I miss living down the hall from Massimo, but we are still figuring out how to navigate this new phase in our friendship where for the first time we have to reestablish trust. Things are a bit awkward and he can’t seem to look at me without a face riddled with guilt.

I think about Giovanna constantly. I dream of what it would be like if she wanted me like I want her and we could be together. At night I make myself come to the memory of being in her bed. I wonder if she is thinking about me at all.

Anyway, my parents get back tomorrow and there is no way I will be staying here with them. It is time to leave limbo. Time to decide if I will allow my life to be driven by others or if I will forge my own path.

The Uber pulls up outside Stefan and Allegra’s house and I hesitate before getting out. It isn’t too late for me to turn around and go back to my car where it is parked outside my work. No one need know that I even considered running from my fate.

The driver looks over his shoulder expectantly, his face communicating that I should hurry up and get out of his car.

Apologising, I quickly exit the vehicle and stand clutching the sports bag that contains the essentials I might need. Sadly this isn’t a lot. Just my passport and some clothes.

I feel small standing outside my brother’s house so uncertain and alone. Am I being petulant? Petty? Like a child who throws a tantrum and declares they are running away?

Being amicable and obedient my whole life has ultimately led me to being traded like property and unable to trust anyone. Just the thought of Massimo arriving in London - me so excited and relieved to see him - when he was there on an assignment makes me want to cry. He was there to manipulate my life as instructed by our fathers.

I should have left earlier. The moment I found out I was to be married to Elio. But like so many women stuck in circumstances they cannot stand, it felt impossible. My family is very wealthy, but I have next to nothing to my name. Not enough to buy a plane ticket back to the U.K. Not even enough to set myself up in some sleepy beachside town hours from Sydney.

Trying to escape the control of my father and future husband has led me here, instead, to my brother’s door where I will put myself at his mercy as I beg for help. I am a mouse stuck in a maze. I keep hitting dead ends and running in circles. I just need to get out.

Hurried footsteps approach the door a few moments after I have knocked. My heart races and push down feelings of embarrassment. There is no shame in asking for help, I tell myself.

“Francesca,” Allegra answers the door and her eyes widen in surprise. “Come in, come in. Are you alright?”

Her question is like the pin that pops the water balloon and I dissolve into tears. Hurrying me inside she leads me to the austere living room where we perch on uncomfortable oversized chairs.

Handing me a tissue, Allegra sits quietly and waits for my tears to subside. “What’s going on? Do you need me to ask Stefan to come home? He should be home in a few hours anyway,” she says softly. She never seems to speak louder than a whisper.

I shake my head. “I can wait for him. If you don’t mind? I just need to talk to him. I need his help.”

Stefan returns home a few hours later just as Allegra said. She must have spoken to him at some point as he isn’t surprised to find me in his house.

He pulls me into a hug and I want to feel comforted, but it is stiff and unfamiliar. If anything I feel more isolated afterward, but I appreciate that he was trying to show support and affection.

“Allegra says you need my help,” he states, sitting down opposite me at his monstrosity of a dining table.

I bob my head and drag my gaze from the tabletop to find his eyes. “I can’t marry Elio, Stefan. Please help me. I need to get away, but I have nothing.”

The tears start again and Stefan’s brow crinkles into a concertina of concern, but a strange lightness comes over him. He pauses, running his eyes over my face. Lost in his thoughts he doesn’t respond for several moments and my breath catches in my chest. He is my last resort. I have no one else to go to.

“Of course, I’ll help. You’re my baby sister,” he finally says. “Who knows you’re here?”

“No one,” I reply honestly.

“Good. That gives us more time to figure this out,” his mouth sets in a satisfied line and he looks at his watch. “It is getting late. Allegra has made up the spare room. Get some sleep and we will talk about it all tomorrow.”

After a long shower in which I shed many more tears, I tug on some cotton sleep shorts and a singlet and slide into bed. It isn’t that late. It’s just after 9 pm and I’m wide awake.

The sheets are crisp and cool and usually, I would relish sliding into them after a warm day, but there is something about them that feels clinical and cold. The room is sparse and the lack of homeliness makes my misery even more pronounced.

Stefan has said he will help me, but our interactions are just so stilted. I can’t seem to relax in his company. I wish I felt more certain about our relationship. Though given the people I have felt comfortable and safe around have sold me out I guess that doesn’t matter.

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