I had taken his care for love, when all along it had been an honor-killing dressed in tenderness. "Lorenzo, I don't like the taste tonight. Let me skip this one."
Lorenzo gave that helpless smile of his, the one that never once let me refuse. "Adriana, don't be stubborn. The physician said the more your body fights the food, the more it needs it."
"If you don't rest, the baby won't either. Aren't you the one who loves them most? Be good. For our baby. Here. Let me help you."
Half coaxing, half command, he pressed the rim of the glass to my lips. There was no room to refuse. There never was, in this house.
Lorenzo, were you so afraid my child would stand in Carmela's path? Or do you truly believe the only woman worthy of carrying your blood is her?
I closed my eyes in despair and drank the entire glass.
In less than half an hour, the poison took hold. I curled up on the bed in agony, drenched in cold sweat from the pain. Lorenzo had just finished his call to the Family's bought physician when he came back into our room. It was as if he'd been waiting outside the whole time.
Even after seven times before, losing my child again still felt like a knife twisting in my heart.
Through the haze, I caught the doctor's voice, low and careful, the way men in this house learned to speak. "Don Marchetti, your wife has lost far more blood than the other times. I'm afraid the damage is permanent. She'll never carry a child again."
Lorenzo said nothing. His eyes went red as he gathered me into his arms. "Adriana, don't worry. Even if we can never have children, I'll still love you. I'll take care of you for the rest of my life."
The Don who had been handed everything, who had men step aside when he crossed a room, now wiped the blood from my body with his own hands. He worried I'd take a chill after the miscarriage. So he held me close against him through the night, keeping me warm while I slept.
In the dead of night, deep in his sleep, Lorenzo murmured, "Carmela, don't be afraid. I'll see you get your happiness."
The tears I had held back for so long finally broke free. On the day of our blood-bound union, Lorenzo had promised me happiness. It was only a lie to keep me quiet, to keep me from standing in the way of Carmela's life.
In that moment, I understood. My whole marriage had been nothing but a joke.
I sent a message to my old friend in neutral territory, far beyond the Commission's reach:
[You once asked me to come see the world with you, remember? I've decided. I'll come to Lichtonia the day after tomorrow.]
I set the phone down. My lower abdomen still ached, deep and relentless.
The thought that I had just lost another child, and that the child's own father had taken it from me, left me breathless with pain. I locked myself in the bathroom and let the tears fall, replaying every moment I had shared with Lorenzo across these years.
When I stood, the phone slipped from my hand.
I bent to pick it up. That was when I saw it, tucked under the basin. A small bundle, wrapped with care in layer upon layer of expensive satin.
I unwrapped it, and found a thick photo album. An album filled with pictures of Carmela. From the age of fifteen to her now twenty-eight.
The design on the cover was familiar. I had seen it before, in Lorenzo's study. He had always loved photography.
Though Lorenzo was Matteo's younger cousin, he was only a few years older than the rest of us. When we were children, Lorenzo would watch Matteo and me squabble over some small thing, his face distant, as if such childish games were beneath a boy of his blood.
One day, when Carmela had just turned fifteen, she came to me and asked if we could be friends. I thought nothing of it. She was always alone, so I introduced her to Matteo and Lorenzo.
It was around then that Lorenzo began joining us. He even took up photography.
I thought it was only a sign of him growing up. The truth was, he had found someone he wanted.
The photos in that album. I had seen only a few of them. The rest I had never seen at all, not even back then.
