Page 90 of War Within
“Ma, we should go sit down.” Emilio glanced at me as he consoled our petite mother.
The moment she spotted me, she wept louder, stretching out to hug me. I wrapped her in my arms. Seeing my mother inconsolable made today even harder to get through without shedding a tear.
“Ciao, mamma.”
“My boy.” Staring up, she placed her palm on my cheek. “Remove your glasses. I want to see your eyes.”
Sighing, I slid my glasses off my face, holding them by my side. She searched my gaze for answers. Shaking her head, she frowned. Emilio lifted his chin, tilting his head, observing.
“Your eyes show the darkness I saw many times in your father.”
I bowed my head, shielding my eyes with the glasses once again.
“Was it necessary, my son?”
“Yes, mamma.” I nodded. “You know I only do what’s needed.”
Emilio and I exchanged a glimpse. He lowered his head, averting his gaze. My mother darted her eyes back and forth and us.
“No fighting today.” She shook her finger just as Luca appeared next to my side. “This is a day only for grief in the Rovati family. Today we cry. Today you are not a part of all the crimes. You are my boys. Tomorrow, you do what you need. Am I clear?”
The three of us nodded in unison. Luca placed his arm around our mother, attempting to escort her to a pew as she blotted her eyes.
“So, is it true?” Emilio whispered under his breath.
“We'll discuss this later.”
“Boys!” Our mother hissed. “No work today!”
“Come on, mamma.” Luca guided her away. “Let’s sit.”
Emilio arched a brow as he peeked around me. “Well, good luck with that.” He slipped by me quickly, taking a seat on the second row, between his kids, Angelo and Caprice.
That is when I saw her. My ex, Abrielle. The fire in her eyes burned bright. She was pissed. I did not blame her. She lost her son. The moment she found out about Marco, we had been arguing through texts nonstop.
“This is all your fault, Giovanni!” She poked my chest.
Lowering my gaze on her finger, I clenched my jaw, gnawing the inside of my bottom lip. I tried to keep my cool. We were before the entire congregation in front of our son’s casket.
“Bri, I didn't do this to him.” I shook my head, reaching out, offering her a hug instead of grabbing her wrist.
She pushed my chest with her sharp fingernail, hissing. “Your fucking family is what did this to him. Your life is no good for anyone.”
“Didn’t stop you from fucking me and marrying me, did it?” I muttered under my breath.
Celia appeared suddenly at my side, folding her arms over her chest, staring at Abrielle. She could not stand her. She did not even like her while we were together. Abrielle took that as a hint backing up before spinning around and taking a seat on the other aside of the sanctuary with her side of the family.
The funeral seemed to drag on, though it only lasted forty-five minutes. We then headed to the cemetery for the burial before the family gathered at my mother’s home. Abrielle had been invited by my mother to keep peace, though it could not have been a worse idea. My mother was always the peacemaker. As I sipped on a glass of whiskey in the corner of the living room, Abrielle approached me cautiously.
“Gio.” She sighed, placing a hand on my forearm. “I’m really sorry about earlier. I know you’re a good person deep down. I just always worry about all of you. Even now, I worry about you all the time.”
“It’s fine, Bri.” I withdrew my arm.
“Valentina didn’t want to come here?”
I shook my head. “She didn’t feel up to it.” I did not think it was a good idea to tell her, she wanted to go spend time with Emir immediately following the funeral.
“It's so loud in here.” She scanned the crowded room, nervously. She always got anxiety in crowds and my family was not her favorite group of people. “Can we please go somewhere quiet to talk. I can feel Emilio's blazing devil eyes burning a hole in my head.”
