Chapter 94: Never forgiving

Carrie

ONE YEAR LATER

A year, that feels like a thousand, has passed.

And I have just one conclusion: regaining my memories was a curse. A curse that would have squeezed me into pieces if I didn’t have Alessandro next to me.

I am not willing to go into the details of the past year, but I can say I will never forgive my father. And even my mother, for indulging him to the point where he thought parenting equalled obsessive control.

That man did not just lock me up, gloat over me and kill my innocent baby; he also destroyed me, destroyed any will I had to live, and tossed me into a bondage I didn’t discover until months later.

A week after my amnesia cleared, my fear that I wouldn’t be able to live a normal life vanished. Even though I could still remember flashes of being locked up in that place, I felt okay. Nothing was out of place.

That gave me the courage to be with Alessandro, who never hid how eager he was to make me feel good and comfortable. That man loved me so much, I almost thought I was undeserving of it. One of the times I felt his affection was when he resigned from his architectural firm to work with me in my little furniture company, which I chose to name The Ales.

I hated when Layla called him ‘Ales’, but I won’t deny that the nickname had a nice ring to it.

Thanks to Alessandro, The Ales experienced slow and steady growth. The carpentry lessons he took also came in handy. We handled projects together, argued, laughed, sometimes temporarily closed shop to make love, then continued working… We had so much fun, and I often wondered if there was a way for my past self to see how blessed I had become.

Summarily, life was good. Life with Alessandro was the most amazing thing ever.

It still is.

But that amazingness faced a storm three months after I got my memories back.

That storm lasted six months.

I don’t want to recall it because I easily cry a lot these days, but with my entire soul, I am freaking glad that I didn't die in that storm. Because I almost did. Even Alessandro almost did.

So, in terms of forgiving that man named Nine Edwards, it will never happen.

He stole my right to have a normal life for a reason I still don’t, for the life of me, comprehend!

For the past year, I’ve heard countless apologies from the police who have been searching for my father to no avail. I hope they never find him because I have a feeling that he is currently experiencing the same thing he subjected me to.

If not, if he’s dead, I hope they find his body chopped into pieces in a very shallow grave.

“Uh, Carrie?”

I looked away from the wall opposite me.

My doctor friend, Rachel, who came to visit, stood before me with her hands on her waist.

“Occupational hazard is not a myth,” she remarked and nodded at the object in my hand.

“Oh.” I looked down at the drill machine in my hand. I had taken it out moments ago to couple the last bit of the kitchen cabinet we have to deliver by next week. “I was lost in thought.”

As I returned the machine to its box, Rachel asked, “Is it because of what that client said?”

I blinked at a cluster of sawdust on the floor. And I recalled how, for the past months, anything related to babies often jolted me into a state of fear and tears.

The client who just left spoke about a special design for a baby cot.

Hearing that reminded me of the… Of who I lost.

“Maybe I’m not done healing?” I whispered out loud.

“When are we ever done healing?” she returned and stood next to me, the feel of her chiffon blouse smooth against my arm.

Because the police questioned my family a lot, the news of my kidnapping wasn’t hidden to a lot of people. After hearing about it, Rachel came down to Italy and traced me to this vibrant town of Volterra, where Alessandro and I have been living.

She expressed her guilt for not investigating my whereabouts during the time I left San Francisco to Venice. That guilt was the reason she often travelled down until she fully decided to transfer her medical expertise to a huge hospital in Venice.

Thanks to that fresh proximity, she comes around a lot to check on me and assist in our workshop.

Rachel was one of the people who witnessed the storm that nearly killed me.

I haven’t told her this, but I'm more thankful to the guilt she feels than to the love she shows. Because witnessing her guilt regularly reminded me that what happened was not my fault, just like how she has no reason to feel guilty towards me.

“Is it the weather?” Her voice reverberated against me as she hugged me tightly. “This place feels extra moody today.”

“I’m fine,” I assured and stepped out of her side hug. “The doctor said that feeling like this is expected.”

“You know,” she made smacking noises with her mouth and sat on a nearby stool, “I’ve been having a little wild thought.”

“About?”

I could read her caution as she crossed her arms and briefly bit into her lip.

“Do you think… considering trying for another child might help?”

“Oh…” I won’t lie, I sometimes wonder about that.

But for the past nine months, Alessandro and I haven’t been intimate. Not on purpose, it just happened that we both became very careful after things turned to shit during those six months I mentioned.

“I understand that psychologically, there might be some underlying issues when you conceive, throughout the journey, and even after. But if at the end of that journey you have a child in your arms, do you think it will alleviate some of your current pain?”

“What do you think?” I asked.

“It’s a risk. But it could be a good risk.”

“Psychologically,” I repeated, and I pushed a shaky breath. “That’s the problem. What if I reach that same stage in pregnancy and I become afraid of… losing… it the… same way I… I…” I shook my head as the image of that painful darkness flashed in my mind. “I am not ready for that.”

She rushed to my side. “And that’s fine. Just consider it in the future, when you get better.”

“But it’s possible, right? Is it possible that I stop feeling sad once I have another baby?”

“You won’t totally stop feeling sad, but some things will change.”

“Hmm.”

I don’t tell this to anyone. Not even Alessandro, but sometimes, when I see parents passing by with their children, I always long for what they have to the point of being severely jealous of them. I would think to myself, ‘If my baby didn’t die, I’d also be like them. Laughing with my baby and Alessandro. Running around and warning my child not to play with this or jump over that.’

“One day,” I whispered to myself. “One day, I’ll be like them. But not now.”

I won’t lie to myself and say that I’m totally okay.

I still depend on medications and regular visits to the hospital.

So, I can’t foolishly push myself into pregnancy when I’m not fully healed.

However, I do miss being sexually intimate with Alessandro.

When he kisses me, holds my hand during our evening walks, hugs me, touches me with light grazes, reads to me, feeds me, teases me, fixes my hair… I always feel a rousing desire to pounce on him and feel the sexual beast again.

But after sensing that he was being careful with crossing that line, I’ve not had the courage to tell him that I’m ready for that.

Maybe I should finally talk to him when he gets back from the short trip he and Edurado went for.

Alessandro has been an angel for the past year. Throughout everything I went through, he stuck by me and became the reason I always fought to live.

Because I won’t lie to you, so many times, I wished to die.

And, sometimes, I actually almost died.

Like always, I’m grateful to Alessandro.

With him, I have learned what it means to hold on to love in times of trouble.

When he returns from his trip tomorrow, I should finally talk to him about this so that we can go from mild to wild.

Maybe I should fish out my lingerie and put on a little show to convince him. I’ll also need to prepare my sexy diva personality ahead of that.

“Boss,” Jose, one of our workers, called me out of my thoughts. The natural smile in his eyes didn’t reveal whether or not he faced struggles in today's work. “We’re done.”

“Good. See you tomorrow.” I waved. “Don’t forget to bring that list! And the measurement details!”

“Alright, boss!” He dragged his bicycle with him, his youthful strength admirable when he easily hopped onto it once he reached the exit.

“Carrie,” Rachel, who I hadn’t noticed leaving, rushed back in, “I have to go to the hospital. Will you be fine on your own?”

“Yes.” Right now, there are two vehicles of bodyguards keeping an eye on me. Alessandro has not spared security details ever since his grandfather tried to pull another stunt a while back. “When next am I seeing you?” I asked.

“Uh… Dinner on Saturday?” She looked up from her phone and saw my knowing smile. “What?”

“You always come for dinner on Saturday," I remarked.

“Because I’m usually free on weekends. I should enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Hmm. Or…” I gave a playful side eye. “A cute man has caught your eye.”

“You think… Carrie! You think I like Eduardo?!”

“The way you laugh when you two have your hushed conversations suggests that much.”

"Get your head out of the clouds,” she hurried away before I could see more of the lies she was spewing. “Bye!”

For the past few weeks, the four of us have had dinner at our place. Alessandro was the first to notice the little chemistry between those two. Not only do I trust Alessandro’s instincts, but I’ve also witnessed the growth of that chemistry.

But either they know of it or not, neither of them has made a move.

“Whatever,” I sang to myself, pulled out a strawberry lollipop from my pocket and proceeded to take care of the last task of the day.