The Legacy (27 page)

Securely wrapped in Adagio’s arms, I ponder his birthday
coming up in October and wonder what I can give him. He has
given me so much happiness, I want the gift to be something
special, something that will let him know just how much he
means to me.

Adagio has become everything to me, and the love we
share sometimes overwhelms me to tears. After Ingo, I never
imagined I could love someone so much, but I do. As I lay
contemplating my dilemma, the words of a song by one of my
favorite recording artist comes to mind. Letting the soft ballad
flow through my head, I realize it describes my feelings for
Adagio perfectly. No other song even comes close. Making a
final decision of what I will give him, my fingers suddenly itch
to touch the piano keys.

Before we married, Adagio purchased a black
Fazzioli
grand piano for me as a wedding present and had it delivered a
week after we arrived. I cried the first time I sat down to play it,
and at Adagio’s insistence I play a little each day.

Smiling, I contemplate learning the love song for him.
Snuggling closer, I send up a silent prayer of thanks for the
contentment I feel in my life. I am so happy.

That final thought drifts through my mind as I fall asleep.
But in the next moment, the peaceful picture of my life
changes, the places and faces altering to one I recognize and
instantly recoil from.

I am back in my old childhood bedroom. My father’s
form is hovering over me in the dark, forcing himself upon me.
I try to awaken, but I am trapped in the nightmare. I continue
to struggle, trying to fight him off, but he is too strong. I
scream, but nothing comes out. I hear him saying, “
Stop it, girl.
You know you ain't good for anything else. You never will be
.”

“Cisely,” Adagio whispers, touching her and she jerks
awake. He sits up and turns on the lamp.
Her eyes are wild and disoriented. When Adagio reaches
for her, she cringes, jerking back.
“Cisely, it is okay. It is just me,
amore
.” He keeps his voice
soft, reaching for her a second time, and again she moves back.
“Cisely, please. I won't hurt you.” There are tears in his
eyes now. He has never seen her this way before. “I would
never hurt you.” Doing his best not to frighten her, he slowly
leans closer, whispering again, “I won't hurt you.”

Slowly emerging from the shadow of my nightmare, my
emotions cave and I crumble.
Hesitantly, Adagio reaches for me and I fight the urge to
flinch as he takes me in his arms. Leaning back against the
pillow, he pulls the covers over us. My whole body is trembling
and I can't seem to stop.
“It is all right, baby,” he whispers, pressing his lips to my
forehead, rocking me gently.
Clinging to him tightly, my cries turn into sobs. This
dream seemed so real, I feel like I've just relived the abuse.
Every second of it came back to me in that single dream.
Needing to get control of my emotions, I tell myself over
and over it wasn't real and I am safe. That part of my childhood
is over, never to return. I try to soak in Adagio's warmth and
comfort.

Cisely's trembling eases and her sobs lessen, but it does
not stop Adagio's own tears from falling. He now clings to her
as desperately as she holds onto him. His next whispered words
are not in English but Italian.

There is no need for him to ask about the nightmare. He
already knows. This is not the first time he has awakened to her
tortured pleas for her father to stop the sickening act. The pleas
usually fade after a few seconds, but this is the worst it has ever
been. This is the first time she has awakened completely
terrified.

He continues to whisper in Italian of his love and vows to
never let anyone hurt her again. He promises that she will
always be safe with him.

I feel, more than understand his soft croons. Burrowing
deeper in his embrace, I fuze against him, absorbing all he gives
of himself. I don’t know why the dreams come. They started
again before I married Ingo. Afterward, the dreams eased up a
bit. I had felt safe, like nothing could ever harm me. Then Ingo
was gone, and after a while they became frequent again.

Maybe they are the result of a fear seated deep within me,
a fear of being left alone, of being a victim again. I feel so
secure with Adagio now, safer and more secure than I've felt in
a long time. Maybe some part of me is afraid of losing him, too,
of being left alone yet again.

“Please don’t ever leave me,” she whispers against his
chest, holding him tighter. “Please don’t ever let me go.”
Renewed emotion washes over Adagio as he listens to her
desperate pleas. Burying his face in her hair, he whispers
fervently, “I will never leave you, baby.” He lifts her face,
whispering against her mouth, “And I will never let you go.”
Her response is immediate and he deepens the kiss, wishing he
could pull her into himself and absorb all her pain. As the
passion rises between them, he realizes he is doing just that,
and she takes everything he gives.
With the subsiding of passion comes the quiet calm at the
end of the storm. Adagio waits until Cisely’s breathing has
become deep again before drifting to sleep himself, still clinging
to her, praying that God would give her peace, and keeping his
promise to never let her go.
He will never mention this night to her.

I practice the song for Adagio using the hour he spends
at the restaurant each day. I have the sheet music, but I hardly
use it. I am able to play by ear and I learn the music quickly.
Though my voice will never compare to Laura Fabian’s, the
lyrics stir my feelings for Adagio, and I hope I can sing it well
enough.

When the day finally arrives, Anna agrees to watch Ingo
at her home for a while to allow us some time alone. Since
Adagio is getting dressed in the bedroom, I change in the
bathroom, taking a little more time than normal, wanting to
look as close to perfect as I can. I don't ever want him to forget
this day.

A few minutes later, I exit the bathroom wearing a slimfitting red dress with matching strappy high heel sandals. My
hair hangs in loose spiraled curls, giving me a sultry look that
even surprises
me
.

Adagio's
smiles
and whistles.
“Wow,
bella
!” he says,
looking up at me from where he sits on the bed. “Beautiful is
not a strong enough word.”

“Really?” I say, smiling coyly. “Then what would be a
strong enough word?”
“Well,
let
me
see.
You
are
a
wondrously
beautiful,
breathtaking goddess! How is that?”
“Thank you. You look very handsome yourself.”
“
Grazie
.”
“You’re welcome.”
Taking his hand, I lead him downstairs. The living room
is lit by a dozen votive candles in crystal holders and a table
covered in lace is set for two near the piano.
“Happy Birthday, Adagio.”
“Thank you!”
He takes a seat at the table. Standing next to the piano,
my stomach is quickly consumed with butterflies. His smile is
loving, his warmth leaving me freshly amazed that just a look
from him affects me so.
“I love you very much,” I tell him.
“I love you too, angel.”
“I wanted to give you something special for your birthday
and I hope you like my choice. I’ve been working on this for a
while now and I hope that through this song, you will know
how much you mean to me.”
Adagio turns his chair, his face full of anticipation.
Taking a deep breath, I begin. As my fingers begin
caressing the keys, my voice softly rises. Closing my eyes, I sing
from my heart. Other than singing to our son, I've never felt as
much emotion as I do at this moment singing to Adagio.