Page 3 of By Blade, I Love
She didn’t sleep well, up in the middle of the night often, and spent most of her time on the couch with the TV off. She didn’t go out to the market or leave the house at all. I knew she wasn’t intentionally being distant toward me, but sometimes I felt as if I wasn’t there at all. I’d expected her to crawl into my lap and cling to me like a life vest, but she chose to sit and lie in the same spot for hours, staring at a wall.
She didn’t have much of an appetite, so most of the dinners the maid prepared went to waste. Whenever she showered, she stood under the water for nearly an hour. One time, I walked in there to check on her, and she was seated on the floor of the shower, her arms around her knees, the warm water just pouring down on her.
I let her be.
I knew how to be a provider and a protector, but I didn’t know how to fix this for her. That week together in Palermo seemed like a distant memory now. We were the happiest we’d everbeen, and now Francesca seemed more dead than alive. The relationship with her father had been strained and complicated toward the end, and I knew that made all this worse.
I sat on the couch with Francesca’s head in my lap. She was tucked under a blanket with her eyes half open. I ran my fingers through her soft hair and gently played with the strands. My phone vibrated with a text in my pocket, and I fished it out while trying not to disturb her.
It was a message from Don Russo.Warren’s men are looking for you.
I wasn’t surprised he’d traced me back here.
Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with us.
I didn’t type a response. I wasn’t sure exactly what to say. I hated the fact that I actually felt grateful—and I also hated the fact that I was too stubborn to say it.
Don’t leave your residence. We’ll let you know when they’re gone.
I still couldn’t bring myself to say anything, even though I should. I never wanted to need anyone, but right now, I was unaffiliated, unemployed. Everyone loyal to Don Mancini was being put to work and would be shot in the head if they resisted. Leo had helped Francesca, so he wasn’t loyal to Warren, but I would never trust that son of a bitch ever again. So I forced myself to reply.Thank you.
Francesca was in the same condition for the next few days. Barely saying a couple words. Not interested in food. I didn’t have to tell her to stay indoors because she didn’t try to go outside. She was oblivious to the men who hunted us in the streets, who interrogated everyone in an attempt to find us.
It was a testament to Cosa Nostra’s loyalty to me that they didn’t snitch. That not a single person folded under an aggressive line of questioning. They protected me like I was still one of their own, when many of them had been to my home in the past.
Don Russo texted me.They’ve moved on to Taormina.
The lens was finally off me.
Let’s meet.
You know where to find me.
I found her on the couch, wearing my sweatpants and a t-shirt, a book beside her that she’d probably tried to read but couldn’t focus. She didn’t react to me right away, her responses slow.
I took a seat close to her.
She sat upright and crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes on the floor. “I’m sorry I’ve been this way for so long.”
It’d only been a week.
“I—I just can’t snap out of it.”
“Baby.”
She didn’t move her gaze to me.
I couldn’t be firm with her right now, so I remained gentle. “Baby, look at me.”
She inhaled a deep breath before she turned to meet my gaze.
“It’s okay not to be okay. And it’s okay if you’re never okay again.”
Her eyes softened and saddened at the same time.
“I expect nothing from you—and you owe me nothing.”
“I haven’t cooked or put on makeup or tried to make love to you?—”
