Silence Is Golden (23 page)

“Are you telling me that you think I should leave?”

“I don’t want you to leave. I love you dearly, you know that.”

“I love you too.”

We smile at each other.

“But I want you to be prepared,” she adds. “People here will shun you even more than they already are. And Aris? How do you think he’s going to react when he finds out that you’re carrying his child and you didn’t tell him?”

“I don’t care how he reacts. He doesn’t want me anymore. He never even bothered explaining himself. My child will just be mine.”

Emma doesn’t press the matter, but I know she’s right.

That evening, as I walk through the village, I’m so absorbed in my thoughts and my conversation with Emma that I don’t notice Teresa walking toward me until it’s too late. She stops in front of me on the sidewalk, blocking my way.

“Why don’t you just leave already? What are you still doing here? You killed my friend. You destroyed the life of that poor boy. What else are you looking to ruin?”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” I reply.

“Oh, yes, you did. If it weren’t for you, Dora would still be alive.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” I say, sounding hesitant even to myself.

“Aris was fine, and he and Dora were happy.”

Am I crazy, or is she acting like they were a couple?

“What are you saying?”

“Everyone knew. He was hers. Why do you think he never had a girlfriend?”

Her words make me shudder.

“You should have stayed out of it. It was all your fault!” she screams.

I’m too stunned to react, and I stare at her in shock.

“Enough!” I hear someone say, and turning to look, I can’t believe my eyes.

It’s Helga.

“Go home, Teresa! Enough with this nonsense!” she yells.

Teresa also seems surprised. “This doesn’t concern you, Helga, so why don’t you butt out?”

“It’s as much my business as it is yours. Now leave that girl alone!”

I’m flabbergasted. Is Helga really defending me? Teresa actually seems slightly cowed, and she takes a few steps backward.

“This isn’t over!” she shouts before leaving.

I look at Helga, unable to speak. She takes me by the arm.

“I’ll walk you home,” she says.

We walk slowly through the village toward my house.

“That woman is insane, just like her friend was,” she tells me. “You have to watch out for her.”

“Why did you stick up for me?” I reply, finding my voice at last.

“Oh, they’ve crucified you enough in this town. I know how much you cared about that guy. I’ve known him for years, and I’ve never seen him as happy as he was when you were together.”

“How do you know Aris?”

“I was a friend of his grandmother’s. Well, my mother was. When Tommaso met that French woman, Aris’s grandmother was already sick. He was only four years old when she died and left him alone with his father. He’s had a hard life, and you were a blessing for him.”

I can’t believe Helga just told me all that, as if we were friends. What happened to her hostility? It seems like it was part of a different lifetime.

When we reach my house, I invite her in for tea. I can see that she’s debating whether or not to accept my offer, but in the end, the old Helga prevails.

“Thank you,” she says, “but I have to go. Another time, okay?”

“Of course,” I answer.

As she walks away, I can’t resist calling out.

“Helga.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

She shakes her head, as if to say that there’s no need to thank her. But she doesn’t know how wrong she is.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Once I’m alone, I think back to what Teresa said. What the hell did she mean by “he was hers”? That suggests something so awful and unnatural that it gives me goose bumps. Aris and Dora had to have been at least twenty-five years apart, and she was his father’s wife! But she wasn’t actually his mother, and I saw how she looked at him. And what’s more, Dora admitted her true feelings. Was Teresa implying that Aris felt the same way? That simply cannot be true. That kind of gossip would’ve spread like wildfire, and I would have heard about it at some point. No, I’m certain that Aris didn’t share Dora’s feelings. But what do I really know about their relationship? And why did her death make him leave me? All these questions are hurting my head. I fix myself something to eat, for the sake of the baby, and go to bed.

I lie in the dark with my eyes wide open. I can’t sleep. I rest my hand on my stomach, but I don’t feel anything. If this baby could just give me some sort of sign, other than making me throw up on command. I’m having trouble putting my feelings into words. And the fact that this is Aris’s child complicates things. Do I give up on Aris? Am I just going to listen to Teresa’s bullshit and let the man I love get away? I realize that I have subconsciously set aside all our best memories together. How else could I have survived this? But those memories are still there, and tonight, alone in the dark, I let them wash over me. Am I really going to give all of that up so easily, when we could still have a future together? Not without a fight. Finally, I fall asleep.

It’s almost eight in the morning. I’ve been awake and ready since five, and I can’t bear to wait any longer. Without letting myself change my mind, I head straight for the carpenter’s shop. The lights are off. I peer through the window, trying to see inside, but it’s all dark. Maybe he’s out. I walk around the side of the building to the blue door. It seems like it’s been a year since the first and last time I crossed this threshold, instead of just a few weeks. I knock. There’s no reply. I knock again, several times.

“Aris! I know you’re in there! It’s me! Let me in!”

Nothing. There’s no noise from within. But I’m sure he’s in there.

“Aris! Let me in! I need to talk to you!”

I knock again, pressing my ear against the door. I still don’t hear anything. Where could he have possibly gone? Maybe into the woods . . . No, he could run into me there, and he’s made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t want to see me. Okay then. Two can play this game.

“Aris!” I cry out. “Just so you know, I’m not moving until you open this door!” I sit on the doorstep and lean against the door. I’ll wait. I’ve got all the time in the world. I’m worried that Linda might show up, but I won’t be persuaded to leave, not by her or by anyone else. I hear noises behind the door about an hour later. When the door finally opens, I fall backward, just like Aris did at my house. Though when he did, I was there to support him, whereas I now have to pick myself up off the floor. I look up at him. He doesn’t even offer me a hand. He just stares at me. But I won’t be so easily discouraged, and I get back on my feet. He turns and walks over to the staircase. I shut the door behind me. This house gives me the creeps. I feel like I can see Dora’s decomposing corpse on the floor. How does he live here by himself?

“Are you ever going to look at me, or do I have to beg you?” I ask, feeling a renewed flash of anger.

He finally does. He’s so thin and pale. My heart is pounding like it did the first time I saw him. I don’t know how I keep from embracing him, holding him as tightly as I have so many times. But now there’s not even a trace of love in his steely gaze. He seems annoyed and irritated, or at least he’s going out of his way to make me believe that’s how he feels. Anger washes over me.

Suddenly, I stride toward him and shove him, throwing him off balance. He grabs the handrail of the stairs so he doesn’t fall over, and his eyes widen in surprise. At last, a response!

“How could you?” I yell at him. “How could you just not want to see me anymore? How could you just stop talking to me? You promised me that you’d be with me forever, but then you abandoned me!”

Aris sits on the first step and lowers his head.

“And don’t think I’m going to let you keep quiet!” I continue. “I’ve had enough of your silence! It’s time to start talking!”

“Emilia . . . ,” he finally responds.

“Emi! It’s Emi! Don’t you remember?”

“Why did you come here?”

“Why did I come here? Are you crazy? Why would you ask me that?”

“I thought you understood that it’s over between us,” he says.

His words break my heart. I thought that there was nothing left inside me to break, until now. I take a deep breath because my nausea is back and I need to get it under control. Being in the same place as the shadow of Dora’s corpse isn’t helping.

“Can we go in the shop please? This house is giving me the creeps,” I say.

“There’s nothing left to discuss,” he replies.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? How many people have you done this to? It’s not gonna work on me. I deserve an explanation, and I swear to God, I won’t leave you alone until I get one.” I finish.

He sighs but stands and goes over to the shop door. I follow him. Once we’re in the shop, I feel a little better. We have so much history here together. I feel like the place is ours somehow. I know he feels the same way, and I bet that’s why he doesn’t want to have this conversation here. When we’re in the middle of the room, away from the tools and blueprints, he turns to me. He still seems annoyed, but I think it’s simply for show.

“Do you realize what you’re doing?” I ask. “You asked me to marry you—no, you
convinced
me to marry you—and now you refuse to see me.”

He sighs again and doesn’t reply. Then I see his jaw flex, and I know he’s pretending. The effort he’s making is formidable. I approach him, and he takes a step back. He can’t let himself be too close to me, which confirms my suspicions. I take another step, and he’s trapped—he can’t go any farther, as the desk is blocking his path.

“I love you, Aris Martini,” I tell him. “As I did yesterday, and as I will tomorrow. I don’t know what’s going on inside you, but nothing inside me has changed.” I hold back my tears and look at him. My magic still works. His eyes can’t lie to me. He still loves me. Of course he does. But for some reason, he’s decided that things have to end between us. It’s as if he thinks that ending things with me is his punishment for Dora’s death.

“Is that it?” I say, as if he could hear my thoughts. “Do you feel responsible for Dora’s death? It makes no difference that your name was cleared in court? Maybe you would have rather stayed in jail than give me an explanation. You could wallow in your guilt there with no distractions.”

“I don’t think I’m responsible. I know I am,” he replies.

“Don’t be stupid. Dora fell. You didn’t push her.”

“She fell because she was upset that I called her insane.”

“But she was insane,” I say. I’m no longer struggling to hold back my tears; they’ve dried up from anger.

“She tried to be a mother to me. And I refused to let her. I chased her away from this house, which was her house too,” he responds hotly. “I did the exact same thing to her that I did to my father, and now she’s dead too.”

I shake my head, hoping that he can’t really believe what he’s saying. “Do you blame me for that?”

“No, of course not. I’m the only one to blame,” he responds.

Something in his voice makes me realize that he’s about to give in. I raise his chin with a finger and force him to look me in the eye.

“Then you’re making me suffer for what you believe is your fault,” I say slowly. “Every morning, when I wake up and you’re not there, I want to run to the river and throw myself in.”

He swallows and tries to look away, but I catch his face in my hands. His steely gaze has disappeared.

“Do you think I don’t suffer, Emi?” he murmurs.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. Maybe I didn’t know anything before. I believed you when you said you loved me, that you’d never leave me. And look how that turned out . . .”

I let go of his face. Suddenly I feel drained. What am I doing? Am I begging him to return to me? I turn and start walking away from him. But before I can leave, he grabs me.

“Without you, every day is just a bunch of hours that separates me from the next one,” he whispers.

I don’t move. A tear rolls down my cheek. Then his arms are around me, and his lips are pressing against my neck. I turn and wrap my arms around him. He’s so thin that I’m afraid I might hurt him. His hands run through my hair. I kiss him all over his face until our lips find each other. It’s a frenzied kiss, as if we are running out of time. Our tongues entwine, and the taste of him takes me back to our very first kiss. When our lips part, we’re both out of breath. I don’t let go, as if this is our last time together.

“Remember what I told you on the hospital roof, Emi?” he murmurs into my ear.

“I remember every word of every sentence you’ve ever said to me,” I answer.

He sighs. He knows it’s true. “Don’t you see?” he adds. “I loved my father, but I said terrible things to him, and he died. I’d eventually become fond of Dora, but I hurt her, and now she’s dead too. Do you think I’m also willing to risk hurting you?”

My arms loosen their grip on his body. I stare him right in the eyes.

“And do you think I’m going to live without you? As you said yourself, ‘Without you, every day is just a bunch of hours that separates me from the next one.’”

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He pulls away from me. I know that there’s nothing else I can say to change his mind. I know he still loves me. That’s perfectly clear. But if that’s not enough, then what is?

I want to tell him about the baby, but I can’t. He needs to want to be with me because of me, not just because of the baby. If he doesn’t want me enough, then he can’t have this baby either. I feel calmer than I ever have before. It’s as if all my emotions have suddenly disappeared. I just don’t care about anything anymore. I gaze at his face and his striking blue eyes, heavy with tears, for the last time. I turn and slide the ring off my finger, placing it on the desk. As I leave, I can’t help but wish that he’d stop me.

Emma helps me pack. I give her the bookshelf and desk that Aris made for me. She says that they’re beautiful and that I should keep them for when I have a new home, but I refuse. Having reminders of him somewhere new would be akin to torture. I look around. I realize that apart from some clothes and blankets, I really didn’t buy anything new for the house. It’s as if deep down, I always knew that my stay here would only be temporary.

“I want to take you to Milan,” says Emma. “I don’t want you to have to make that trip alone.”

“There’s no need, Emma, believe me. It’s enough that I can stay with your aunt at first. Really.”

“Will you send me your new address, when you get one?”

“On one condition.” I look her in the eye. “You can’t tell Aris what it is, even if he asks.”

“Why not, Emilia? I just don’t get you.”

“I just feel that this is how it has to be. I can’t explain, but I need you to promise me that if he ever decides to come looking for me, you won’t help him.”

“He’ll never be able to find you without my help. Milan is a huge city. He’ll never know that’s where you went, if I don’t tell him.”

“Please don’t.”

She gives me a hug. “I won’t, but I still think it’s silly.”

“Do you think that everything that’s happened in the last two months has happened for a reason?” I ask.

“No, I don’t,” she replies. “But it just seems like a pity that two people who are so clearly made for each other can’t be together.”

“It was his decision, Emma, not mine. I have to respect his decision. You can’t force someone to love you.”

“He does love you, Emilia.”

“Yeah. But that doesn’t seem to matter,” I say, looking at the forest through the window. I wonder if this is the last time I’ll see it.

Tonight, for the first time, I feel something move inside me. It feels like a little fish is swimming around in my stomach. Perhaps it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, but Emma had once told me that had happened to her when she was pregnant with Giorgia.

“Everything will be different once your child is born,” she now says.

“Maybe it’ll be a girl,” I reply.

“Yeah, and you can name her Helga.”

We both laugh, but it’s a sad laughter. Leaving this place is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I know that I can’t stay here, constantly hoping that Aris will change his mind about me. I can’t spend my days trying to run into him or wallowing in the past. I need to leave and completely change my surroundings if I want to give my child some semblance of peaceful surroundings. I feel dead inside, but my child has the right to a happy life. This baby was conceived by a love that was strong, that meant something. I can’t let the fact that that love is now meaningless affect the baby too.