Page 11 of Stained Honor

My body may be here, but every part of me wants to go back to Italy.

As badly as I want Gabriel in my arms right now, I want Carlo just as much. I want to feel his strong hands on me again, the crushing strength of his embrace, the way his touch almost hurt in the best possible way.

I’m dying from missing them.

Dying from missing Carlo and Gabriel while being powerless to do anything about it.

After five years, I somehow ended up exactly where I started, trapped, isolated, alone, without family or friends. Back then, I survived because of Carlo. Loving him gave me a reason to fight through everything.

But now this house, these walls, the flowers, the beautiful fountain, every inch of it reminds me of the love I destroyed with my own hands.

And I don’t know if there’s any hope of getting it back.

Will Carlo forgive me?

Will we ever be what we were again?

Giorgio’s hand settles gently on my shoulder, pulling me out of the endless spiral in my head. I blink in confusion and look at him.

He holds an iPad out toward me. “There’s a new video of Gabriel.”

Like someone terrified their last meal’s about to be stolen, I snatch the iPad out of Giorgio’s hands and run toward the house. I take the stairs two at a time before locking myself inside the bathroom connected to my bedroom and pressing play.

Through the blur of tears, I see Gabriel playing with Diablo, the tiny fluffy white dog I gave him for his birthday. Wearing nothing but that bulky white diaper hugging his little ass, he keeps pushing himself up on unsteady legs, only to wait for the overexcited dog spinning circles around him to knock him back down again.

And every single time, Gabriel bursts into laughter.

The sound shatters me.

Right then, the bedroom door opens somewhere in the background of the video, and the recording cuts off.

My composure breaks with it.

I collapse onto the bathroom floor, sobbing so hard I can barely breathe while I replay the video over and over again, putting it on repeat like a fucking addict desperate for another hit. I listen to my son’s laughter on a loop while crying until Giorgio finally walks into the bathroom without knocking and gently takes the iPad from my hands, shutting it off.

Then he pulls me to my feet and says softly, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

I don’t fight him.

I let him lead me back into the bedroom, and I sit down on the couch farthest from the bed. For a long time, he just stands beside me in silence.

I don’t know if Giorgio realizes how much he means to me or not.

Maybe even more than Jill.

Because Jill and I only shared good memories for as long as I can remember, but Giorgio stood beside me through the darkest days of my life, and somehow that makes his presence worth even more.

Eventually enough time passes for me to pull myself together a little. My voice comes out steadier this time. “I’m sorry if I’m making things harder for you too.”

Giorgio settles half his weight against the armrest of the couch. “You’re not making things hard for me,” he says softly. “You’re running yourself into the ground. You barely eat. You barely sleep. And you hardly ever leave this room. Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?”

I haven’t. Why does it even matter what I look like when Carlo’s not here to look at me.

“I’m fine,” I say quietly.

“No, you’re not.” Giorgio’s tone hardens immediately. “You’re pale as hell and losing weight. You know if Don Carlo saw you like this today, he’d put a bullet in my head, right?”

A bitter smile pulls at my lips. “Don’t worry. Even if he were here, he probably wouldn’t turn his head in my direction. God forbid he accidentally looks at me. He doesn’t care about me anymore.”