“Some things can’t be measured or quantified, Greta. And with love there’s always a flicker of uncertainty. You have to allow yourself to fall.”
I smiled because Mom knew me better than I thought. And I understood her reasoning. My letting myself fall when I risked plunging many others into the abyss for me wasn’t an option. “Have you never regretted leaving your family?”
Mom swallowed. “I knew it was the right choice for you and Nevio.”
“Would you have left as well if you hadn’t had us?”
Mom’s gaze slanted to Dad who was still in a discussion with Nino and now Fabiano.
“Maybe it would have taken me longer to come to terms with my love for your father but I’m sure eventually I would have gone to him.”
Mom’s family hadn’t tried to get her back. I couldn’t imagine mine reacting the same way. While Dad might accept love as a reason, Nevio wouldn’t.
For him love was difficult to grasp. For him devotion and love only existed in connection with our family, not outside of it. Everyone outside of our family was inconsequential to him. He was a bit like a livestock guardian dog. The puppies were introduced early to their herd or family they were supposed to protect. Everything they grew up with fell under their protection, everything that they encountered later in life was a potential threat.
“I know you and Amo don’t know each other. But what does your gut tell you? Do you think you love him?”
It defied logic, falling in love at first glance. I would have argued with anyone who would have told me it had happened to them, but I had fallen for Amo, and every time I saw him I only fell deeper. I was scared of what would happen if the fall ever ended. But falling in love wasn’t the same as loving someone. Or was it? The more I tried to dissect love, define it, box it up in a neat category, the more it confused me.
The door behind me on my left opened and the doctor stepped out. He was still covered in blood from surgery. Mom grimaced, tightening her hold on my hand. I got up. It was where Nevio had been undergoing surgery.
“He’ll recover. But he needs to hold back his nightly activities for a while.”
“Can I see him?” I asked immediately.
“He’s not awake yet. We’re monitoring him closely.”
“I’ll sit by his side.” I paused, glancing at Amo’s door. How much longer would his surgery take? Again I felt like my heart was split in two. I couldn’t be at both of their sides.
“You’ll let us know when the Vitiello boy wakes, Remo?”
Dad looked at Mom for a few heartbeats before he gave a nod. Then he slanted another look at me. His expression was dark and foreboding, full of worry and anger.
I wasn’t sure which of these emotions were directed at me. Mom and I walked into Nevio’s room. I was angry at him, furious even. But seeing him drugged and attached to all kinds of machines, I rushed over to him and took his hand. My heart ached so terribly. I pressed my forehead to his hand, shuddering. “Nevio. I know you need me but why did you have to do this?”
Mom touched my shoulder. “You love your brother, we all do, but you can’t hold back your life for him. Not forever.”
“He’s my life too. You all are. I don’t want to leave. I can’t be what the Famiglia expects, what Amo needs. Eventually he’ll realize it and then it’ll be too late.”
Mom squeezed my shoulder and walked around the bed to the other side of the bed, putting her hand on Nevio’s.
Mom looked at him then at me, her expression softening further. “Leaving my family, it was an impossible choice until it wasn’t, until only one choice remained.”
Amo needed another woman at his side, someone other than me. Our families needed peace. Nevio needed me. There was only one choice to make for me. I put my cheek down on the bed, my fingers interlinked with Nevio’s. My gaze found the clock. Amo’s surgery had been going on for three hours. Oh Nevio.
I must have fallen asleep but was woken by commotion in front of the door.
“Where is he?” A deep male voice boomed. It took me a moment to recognize it as Luca’s.
My head shot up.
“Stay here,” Mom urged but I shook my head and slipped out before she could stop me.
Dad and Luca were facing off, guns drawn, and Dad’s face didn’t bode well. I didn’t know Amo’s father very well but his face didn’t give me much hope either.
“In surgery,” Nino said. “Our best surgeons are saving his life.”