LOVE SCARS | Chapter 6 Untitled

 

For me, sleeping most nights is non-existent. Staying awake left me alone with my demons, who laughed at my misery. The past of my childhood visited me like an ex-lover who only missed you when they were drunk, babbling incoherent words, but with a brief pause, when they spoke again, you got something clear: "I still love you." knowing their words were only lies that burned on their tongue.

Knock, knock, knock. The door creaks open. I was expecting Theodore to peek his curly head in. But instead, it's Papa. He doesn't say a word as he enters and just stays next to the door. My dimly lit room cast shadows across his face. He's different from earlier. I mean, he is so different in his mood that I can feel the guilt rolling off him in waves, crashing into each other. This is how it goes—he comes to say sorry, and I forgive him. You can't hold anything against Papa, not his actions, not his words. You'd be a fool to wait for him to seek forgiveness. The kind of apologies that require genuine change and accountability were beneath him.

"Tesoro," Papa speaks, with a light air to his words. "You're awake." He steps away from the door. His shadow grew long on my bedroom walls as he approached my bed.

"One of those nights," I said. Looking into his eyes, there was something there hiding. I couldn't decode it—he wasn't going to give me the chance to. He sat on my bed, back towards me. Even with the thin white nightshirt he wore, I could see the muscles in his back were tense, and his shoulders stiff.

I turned on my side, took my hand from underneath the blanket, and rubbed my Papa's back. Just from my touch, he melts with a sigh.

"You know you're safe, right, my Tesoro?" Papa asked. The vibration of him speaking tickled the palm of my hand.

I continued to rub his back, feeling the muscle tissue release under my fingers. "I know, Papa, but things that happened back then still plague my memory."

"Come lie with me." Papa turned his body just enough to place his hand on my face, but I moved, staring at his hand. "You think I'm going to hit you?" His tone went from soft and doting to defensive and accusatory.

"No."

"Then why did you move away?" Papa lets his hand fall to the bed.

I said nothing, gripping my pillow underneath my head and staring at the wall across from my bed.

"So I'm a bad papa now?"

And here he goes.

"Did I say that?"

"You didn't have to say it; your actions spoke for themselves."

" I just moved out of reflex, okay? I didn't mean anything by it. "

He stares at me for a moment and then stands. "Come to my bed, Tesoro."

Part of me didn't want to listen. The other part of me knew that if I didn't get out of this bed to follow him, he'd flip the situation by coming up with things I never said or did. He had this way of making mountains out of pebbles. Taking the most vulnerable parts of the sentence and throwing them back to you or storing them away as leverage for a later date.

He, like most parents, has a way of guilting his children into doing things they don't want to do. All my papa needed to do was make a face as though he would break in two if I didn't bend at his every word.

So here I was in my papa's bed, him laying on his side, propped up on his elbow as he stroked my hair with his other hand. He hums a soft, familiar tune that induces a state of ataraxia. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to focus on this moment instead of waiting for the rug to be pulled. The feeling of his fingers combing through my hair and his deep soothing humming was enough to chase away anything that'd haunt me in the middle of the night like a restless ghost who wasn't at peace. Seeking vengeance for those who liked him.

"Bel Ragazzo." My Papa said his fingers grazed my cheek. 

Then he soon traced the bridge of my nose with the tip of his finger. It was a scratchy feeling that reminded me of the butterfly kisses my mother used to give me. Images of her honey-brown eyes flash in my head, giving me a damning sense of protection.

"I'm no longer a beautiful boy," I said, with sleep hiding in my voice.

He chuckled, as I felt his lips on my forehead. "You'll always be my beautiful boy, Tesoro," papa said. "I should paint lots of portraits of you. I'll show you what I see. My little one. "

No matter how old I got, I'd still be his little one, never losing the radiance I harbored in my youth. He always made me his perfect boy, no matter how far I'd fallen from grace.

MORINING 

This was the first time in a long time we sat as a family and had breakfast. Papa reads the newspaper while eating his turkey bacon. Theodore picked at his food and took little nibbles of things. And, I was lost on my phone, texting my assistant Lora. Nag, nag, nag, is all she seems to do these days. In her defense, most of the time it was for my own good.

"Are you excited about your party?" Papa asked Theodore.

I glanced up from my phone across the table at Theodore. He catches my eyes, replying with a robotic, "Thrilled."

"The family is coming in from Venice to see you. You probably don't remember most of them since you haven't seen them since you were about five. " Papa said.

Theodore lowers his gaze toward his plate of scrambled eggs, half-eaten toast, and pieces of turkey bacon.

Great, now the whole family is coming to his birthday party. I look back at my phone when it buzzes with a text from Lora.

Lora: I'm looking for a gift for Theodore. He's a teenager. So you think he'll like Gucci? Maybe something custom-made?

Me: He likes video games. I'm guessing the ones with a lot of gore and shooting.

I pressed send and sat my phone down on the table.

"Prince, I'll need you to pick them up from the airport tonight," Papa said, looking from behind his newspaper to look at me.

" I won't be here, sir. I'll remind Hans to get a driver."

His dark, thick brows knitted together. "And where is that you might be?"

"I have a job."

"I wasn't informed about this."

"It just came up. Lora only told me this morning. " I said.

"Well, when might you be back?"

"I'll be gone for three days."

Papa places the newspaper beside him and looks at me as if to say, "You gotta be kidding me, right?"

"So you're going to miss your brother's birthday?"

"Yeah."

"You can't."

"He'll have plenty of other birthdays," I said, standing from my seat. "By the way, I'm taking my brother to school this morning. Theo, can you go get your things and go get in the car? "

Theodore gets up from the table without saying a word. I stayed in the dining area to keep Papa distracted so he wouldn't see Theodore leaving an overnight bag. When Papa reached out to grab my hand, he lightly stroked his thumb on the back of my hand. He stares up at me with a wistful expression, drawing me in.

"Everyone would have loved to see you," he said.

"Well, I'm not that interested in seeing them." I smiled.

My father expected my complete sincerity, yet when it came to his family, they were a sore spot I never knew how to touch.

Papa takes his hand from mine and looks away from me. Our papa's side of the family were very affectionate people—the type to hug and kiss. I just wasn't so trusting of people who were my own family, not counting Papa, Theodore, and Lucas. Papa values family and ensures that everyone is well taken care of, living comfortably so that their children have nothing to worry about. But when it comes to the one person who can put Papa in his place, it's his mother. He's a real Mama's boy when it comes to her. You should see the way he becomes a muddled mess when he's around her.

"Listen, after your birthday I want to be here." was the first thing out of my mouth as I drove us.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Theodore jump into the passenger seat. "What? Why?"

"Lucas wants me to come on a business trip with him."

"For how long?"

"Just for a couple of days, maybe a week, I'm hoping it won't take much longer than that."

"Prince, you can't just go with him!" The sudden rise in his voice took me off guard. It wasn't a plea like I was expecting, but a demand I didn't think he was capable of voicing.

"Bambino."

The car fell silent for a split second before Theodore said, "I'm sorry."

I spared him a glance and reached over the console and gave his thigh a light squeeze. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Theo." I look back at the road but leave my hand on his thigh.

"Can I just miss school today and spend the rest of the morning with you instead?" Theodore tries to hide the neediness in his voice.

"Okay, the rest of the morning I'm yours."

Keeping Theodore happy was second on my list. The first thing was our papa.