To forget
Nonna convinced the boys to let me talk to Dominic alone; they grumbled a little, but obeyed.
Now I'm sitting by the pool with him, still feeling bad about what happened today.
Dominic gets angry when I tell him exactly what happened.
"I know you're strong, Elena, but your brothers had no right to ask you that," he says, irritated.
"I just wanted to help, to feel useful," I say softly, my voice hoarse.
"Not like that, look what you've become, angel," he says affectionately. "That psychopath manipulated all of this."
I know he's telling the truth; Edgar could have asked for his freedom or something that would have guaranteed him a few more days of life, but he preferred to torture me.
"It was horrible," I say, digging my nails into my palm. "I felt trapped again."
Dominic opens my hand, preventing me from hurting myself.
“You’ll never have to see him again, so forget about it and try to think that you’re free, he’s not,” he tells me, his face serious. “Remember how he is now, how fragile he is, how small he’s become.”
I memorized what he said.
Edgar is thin, wounded, and imprisoned; he can no longer hurt me. I am free.
I take a deep breath so that this becomes real, so that I can leave that damned torture room.
“You’re the strongest girl I know, angel,” Dominic says gently.
I still feel ashamed for having thrown myself into his arms, but I need him.
“Thank you for listening to me, for being kind,” I say, my cheeks flushing.
“Whenever you need me, I’ll be here, after all, you’re my angel,” he says, brushing a strand of my hair away.
I stare at Dominic, trying to understand exactly what he wants from me, but what intrigues me most is knowing how far I'm willing to go for him.
"What brought you here?" I remembered meeting him at the entrance.
"I came to update a report with Lorenzo; he had scheduled a meeting with me," he replied, glancing at his watch. "I need to resolve this, or I'll be late for another appointment."
"I'll take you to his office," he replied quickly, helping me to my feet.
I guided Dominic to Lorenzo's office and said goodbye with a kiss on the lips before slamming the door and running out.
I left the guys talking and you in my room.
Talking to Dominic eased some of the anguish in my chest, but I still feel weak and vulnerable.
I know that was Edgar's goal, to show me that even imprisoned he can still torture me, can continue his sick game with me.
As soon as I entered, I stood in the doorway, observing Nicco, Giorgio, Giovanni, and Sandro scattered around my room.
“To what do I owe a visit?” they asked, unsure of the subject they wanted to discuss.
“We came to see how you’re feeling,” Giovanni says to his superiors.
I always knew that the most dangerous people in my family are Vicente and the twins.
They age calmly and quietly, using people’s reactions and emotions to predict who they are and manipulate them.
But with family, they use this to solve problems, and that’s exactly what they’re doing now.
“To say I feel good is a lie,” I say, walking to my bed. “But talking to Dominic helped a little.”
I take off my shoes before leaning against the headboard so I can face them all.
“You seem to have a good relationship with him,” Sandro says, noticing a hint of jealousy in his voice.
“You seem to have a good relationship with him,” Sandro says, noticing a hint of jealousy in his voice.
“He’s just a good friend, and after so many ruined experiences, I think it’s only fair that at least one of those friendships is decent,” I admit sadly.
Nicco smiles, knowing exactly what I’m doing.
“She’s avoiding the main issue,” he says, and I throw my pillow at him.
“I know you don’t want to talk about what happened, but I want you to know that we’ll be here if you need us,” Giorgio says in his usual low voice.
“Thank you, but right now I just want to forget about today,” I say sincerely.
“Let’s let you rest,” Nicco says, and everyone leaves my room.
I try in every way to relax, to get the day’s events out of my head, but it seems Edgar’s voice won’t leave me in peace.
It’s as if he knows the exact moment I forget his existence and comes back to haunt me.
After hours, I realize I missed dinner and my mind is too agitated to sleep.
I look at the sketchbook on the table and feel the irritation consuming me; I’m going to burn this damn thing.
I get out of bed, pick up the sketchbook with my fingertips, leave the room and realize Leonardo is out today.
I go into his room and open the drawers looking for a lighter. It takes me a while to find a small case hidden at the bottom of the last drawer, containing much more than I need.
I say I'm going to take the case so that whoever sees me will think I'm going to draw.
I go downstairs trying not to make a sound, pass through the empty living room and open the front door.
I go to the shooting range and sit at the foot of a tree.
I open Leonardo's case and am happy to find a new joint, plus enough marijuana for another.
I light the cigarette and, in a few minutes, my body begins to relax. I tear the pages from the sketchbook and burn them one by one.
A small bonfire forms at my feet and I feel this is a way of saying goodbye to Silas.
This is my tribute to the boy I thought he was, the one who helped me, even if, deep down, it was just a joke.
"Goodbye, Silas, I hope you find something good on the other side," I say, burning the last drawing.
I smoke the whole joint and roll another while I'm at it; the night is pleasant and the bonfire I made keeps the cold wind away.
When the fire starts to die down, I feed it with more blank sheets of paper; I want to get rid of any trace of this notebook.
I start to get bored and decide to go inside and get a bottle of whiskey that Lorenzo hides in the living room cupboard.
I go back outside, taking a sip while watching the fire burn weakly.
For a moment, the flame reminds me of Edgar's blowtorch.
I sit on the floor again and drink; whenever I remember some memory from that day, I take a sip of the drink.
I put some pieces of dry wood I find around the fire so it doesn't get too dark. My soul already has enough darkness.
"I'm an idiot," I say to myself. "A weakling, while everyone worries, I'm here complaining."
I laugh at myself, feeling dazed.
I'm almost finished with my joint when someone snatches it from my hand.
I jump in fright, ready to throw the whiskey bottle at whoever took my cigarette.
I see Lorenzo staring at me disapprovingly, as do Dante and Vitorio.
"Ah, it's you guys," I say jokingly and take another sip.
Dante approaches to take the bottle from me, but I back away, almost tripping.
"Hey, you already stole my joint, the bottle stays with me," I say, pouting.
"Elena, give it to me and let's go inside, you're already in enough trouble," Lorenzo says, and I look at him, confused.
The drug mixed with alcohol makes it hard to think.
But wasn't that the intention? "I'll finish and then go inside, I need to do this," I say, tired. "I need to forget the mess that is my life, brother."
The guys look at me with concern. "Then let's go inside, I promise I won't take your drink away," says Vitorio, extending his hand to me.
I look at him suspiciously, knowing this story is far from over.