no bc this video has me in TEARS it looks like a sketch or a bit or a fucking tiktok but no that woman is legitimately fighting for her life while this bitch records some socmed segment for a ski resort
Note: I don’t know why this was so hard to write but it was. It was meant to be just a simple comfort fic, starting from the second scene. Then I thought hmn maybe I should start with a bit of context and it just went haywire from there. I don’t even know if this can count as comfort.
Trigger warning: Graphic suicide attempt in the first scene.
Luigi slammed the door shut. Fuck. What did he do? What the fuck did he do? He poured himself a glass of whisky and slammed it down. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the fuck did he do!? He shot down another glass desperate to get the screaming out of his head. “Shut up! Just shut up! Shut the fuck up!!!”
He slid to the ground. Why wouldn’t that bastard just stop screaming? He slammed his hand against his head. Just get out of his head. Just get the fuck out. Just fucking stop.
He took a swig from the bottle. He could still see his brother writhing and screaming on the ground. His hands were covering his face; he couldn’t see what he had done. But the smell. The smell of burning flesh. He took another swig. Just get out of his head. Just get out.
Tears streamed down his face. Fuck. He scrubbed his eyes desperately. He wasn’t a fucking pussy. He wasn’t…
What had he done? What the fuck had he done? Why had he let his anger take over like that? Why?
He dropped his head in his hands.
He didn’t even remember picking up the beaker. He didn’t even remember throwing it. He just remembered seeing rage. He just remembered an anger he couldn’t control and…
And then the screaming started.
The fucking screaming that just refuses to stop. Just stop screaming. Just fucking stop screaming.
“Luigi, what did you do? What did you do to your brother!?”
He didn’t know. He didn’t know what he did. He hadn’t meant…it wasn’t supposed to… He was just angry.
“The burns are extensive, Mr Largo. I don’t know if…”
No. Don’t fucking say it. Pavi was going to be fine. He had to be fine. Luigi couldn’t have killed his brother. He couldn’t have…
Why was he so angry? He couldn’t even remember what his brother said that pissed him off so badly. He couldn’t remember what his brother had done to deserve…
He didn’t deserve that. No one deserved that. What had Luigi done? What the fuck did he do to his brother?
Stop fucking screaming.
He couldn’t even call for help. He just stood there staring. He just stood there watching his brother scream and convulse and…
“Stop fucking screaming!!!”
He clutched his head in his hands. He couldn’t even justify what he’s done. He couldn’t even… He hurt his brother. He hurt his brother. He maimed him so badly that…
Luigi couldn’t breathe. The guilt tightened in his chest. What had he… He clenched his eyes shut. It still didn’t remove the image of his brother writhing on the ground. What had he done?
He couldn’t take it anymore. The guilt in his chest; the screaming. He needed it to stop. He wanted it to stop.
He numbly walked into the bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet and took the sleeping pills. He closed the door and stared straight into his face.
Bastard. That was the bastard who dared hurt his brother. He hurt his brother.
He slammed his fist into the mirror cracking it.
He dared touch his brother. He was supposed to protect his brother and…
Smash! Glass went everywhere. His knuckles were bleeding but he didn’t care.
He hurt his brother. He hurt his brother. There was no forgiving that. He did not deserve forgiveness. He did not deserve anything. He hurt his brother.
He picked up a glass shard and placed it on his wrist. He watched the tip draw blood. He dug the shard deep into his skin and pulled it down. He watched the blood pour from the wound. This was what he deserved. He placed the shard on the other side of his wrist where he knew where his artery was. He dug the shard in his skin.
There was a sharp knock at the door. “Luigi?”
Fuck. “What the fuck do you want, Carmela?”
“I…I’m scared. I… I heard the Genterns talking. They said something happened to Pavi. They said they don’t know if he’s going to die.”
Luigi shut his eyes. He dug the shard deeper.
“Please Luigi. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m scared. Please.”
Just get the fuck out of here and let him finish. Just let him…
He heard sobs through the door.
Fuck. Luigi closed his eyes and pulled the shard out of his wrist. He pressed down as blood gushed from the wound. “Give me a minute, Carmela. I’m taking a shower.” Luigi turned on the shower and headed back to the medicine cabinet. He wrapped his wrists tightly with bandages. It soaked through. He haphazardly wrapped another layer around his wrist. He looked at the glass on the ground and he couldn’t bring himself to clean it up.
He turned off the shower and sighed. He pulled down his sleeve to ensure the bandages were hidden. He left the bathroom. Carmela was sitting on the bed. “Don’t go in there. There’s glass everywhere.”
“Brother…is…is Pavi going to be ok?”
“I don’t know.” He slumped onto the bed next to her.
“Do you know what happened?”
Luigi closed his eyes. He saw himself splashing the contents of the beaker on his brother. “No.”
“Is Pavi going to die?”
“I don’t fucking know, Carmela!”
She looked down, admonished.
Fuck. “Car-”
“I’m scared.”
“I know. I’m scared too.”
Cautiously, Carmela placed her head on his lap. “He can’t die.”
Guilt clenched his throat shut. Pavi writhing on the ground.
Carmela started sobbing quietly.
He placed a hand on her head. “He’s going to be fine, Carmela. Everything’s going to be fine.” But it wasn’t, was it? Even if Pavi survived… If he survived. Fuck. He hurt his brother so badly he didn’t know if he’d survive. What had he done? What the fuck had he done? A fresh wave of tears burned his eyes. What the fuck had he done?
He felt arms circle his waist.
What the fuck was she comforting him for? He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve shit. He hurt his brother. He maimed his brother. He killed his brother. He killed his brother. He killed his brother.
***
Pavi headed to Luigi’s office once more. He was sick of this. How many times had he done this this month alone? If his brother refused to care for himself, then Pavi was done. He was so done. He wasn’t his brother’s nursemaid, reminding him to eat or sleep time and time again. He was exhausted.
Pavi entered Luigi’s office and sighed. His brother was asleep at his desk once more. His jacket draped over the seat of his chair, his left hand outstretched on the desk, with his head lying on it. Pavi just sighed once more and picked up his brother’s jacket and laid it on his brother.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Paviche. I’m sorry.”
Pavi could only watch his brother whimper in his sleep. He felt a twinge of guilt at his annoyance. He raised his hand to wake his brother when something caught his eye. He headed back to the front of Luigi’s desk and stared at the outstretched hand. The sleeve had been pulled up slightly. Pavi’s eyes darted to his brother. He was still asleep. Pavi unbuttoned the sleeve and pushed it back.
Angry red scars decorated his brother’s forearm. The ages of the scars varied but there were a few that were new; too new. But the scar that caught his eye was a well healed scar that ran down his forearm; too long and too deep.
Luigi stirred.
Pavi pulled back. He headed to the alcohol cabinet and poured himself a glass.
“Pavi, what are you-” Luigi cut himself off as he stared at his exposed wrist. He fell silent. He pulled down his sleeve and buttoned it.
“I would ask-a you how-a long but some of-a those are years old; even before papa…”
“Mind your own fucking business.”
“I don’t-a understand.”
“What’s there to fucking understand?”
“Why?”
“Why.” Luigi scoffed. “Just forget you saw it.”
“Fratello.”
“What?”
“I’m-a trying to understand. Help-a me to understand.”
“What’s there to fucking understand?”
“What is-a it? Punishment? To feel-a something? Help-a me understand, fratello.” So, he would know what to do next; how to help.
“Just forget about it, Paviche.”
“No. I will-a not just-a forget about it.” Pavi spat. “I will-a not let this go. If-a you don’t-a tell me tonight, I will-a not stop hounding you about this until you tell me.”
“I get angry. And it’s there and it burns. And I can’t fucking control it. And normally I can just let it out; kill whoever pissed me off but-” Luigi fell silent.
“But what, fratello?”
“If it’s you two, if you piss me off. I have to get it out. I have to get it out before I react. Because we both know what happens if I don’t.”
Pavi looked away.
“That’s it. There’s no big revelation. No new hole you need to fix. I just needed an outlet, that’s all.”
“And-a what about the other one? The long scar that-a runs down your arm.”
Luigi was silent.
“How old is-a that?”
Luigi refused to answer him.
“I thought-a this was new. I thought-a this was because of-a papa.”
“Pops was just the last straw.”
“Tell me how I can-a help, fratello.”
“You can’t help. I don’tneed your help.”
“You can’t-a save someone who doesn’t-a want to be saved.” Pavi spat.
“Good. So we’re both in agreement then.” Luigi stood and put his jacket back on.
“Fratello, please.”
“Please what?” Luigi just stared down at him. “I don’t need you chasing me around all the fucking time making sure I eat. I don’t need you making sure I sleep. And I damn fucking sure don’t need you there making sure I don’t fucking off myself.”
Pavi closed his eyes.
“I don’t need a babysitter. You’re not my fucking savior.”
“I’m-a just trying to help, fratello.”
Luigi slammed his hand on the table. “I’m not your fucking pet project to use to distract yourself from pops.”
“That’s-a not fair.”
“Isn’t it? Then what do you call running around trying to deal with everyone’s feelings? You’re doing the same thing to Carmela even if she’s too dumb to see it. You’d rather manage everyone else’s feelings than deal with your own.”
“That’s-a not true.”
“Have you cried since pops died?”
Pavi was silent.
“And don’t give me bullshit about not caring for him or hating him for what happened at the opera. You are the only one in this house that fucking defends him. So if he’s so great, then why the fuck haven’t you cried? Why the fuck haven’t you grieved him? Don’t come here and give me bullshit about dealing when you haven’t fucking dealt with it either.” Luigi headed to the door. “I’m going to bed.”
“I’m-a just trying to help, fratello. Why do you always-a do this?”
“Because it’s not going to work. You can’t fucking save me. And you’re going to tell yourself you failed and blame yourself. But it isn’t your fucking job. You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”
“Fratello!”
Luigi ignored him and left.
***
Pavi watched his brother stare out at the city, drink in hand. He sat in a chair.
“I’m guessing you heard nothing I said yesterday.”
Pavi sighed and sipped his drink. “You’re right, fratello. I’m-a not dealing with-a papa.” He took another sip. “It’s-a not like I jumped to acceptance; it’s-a not like I’m in denial. I just… I’m-a not even numb. I just… don’t-a grieve papa. It’s-a not like I hate him or I don’t-a love him. I just… don’t-a grieve him. Does-a that make me a creature, fratello?”
“Pavi, that doesn’t-”
“Make sense? I know.” Pavi just stared forward. “I keep-a telling myself it’s-a because I don’t-a believe what he said at the opera. That he was-a just sick, upset, dealing with dying; and-a he hadn’t really meant what he said. You and sorella were most affected by what-a he said at the opera; so because I don’t-a believe it; I’m ok. I’m-a coping.”
“That’s not…I mean…”
“I know.” Pavi looked at the ground. “I don’t-a know if it’s because I’m-a heartless or if I’m-a really so self centred. I… I do miss-a him. And I do love him. I just-a don’t… I wanted to cry at the funeral. Or at least, I felt like I should cry. Not-a for the cameras. It felt-a like the right thing to do but… Am I broken, fratello?”
He heard Luigi sit opposite him. “No, Paviche.”
“I see the way you and Carmela grieve him and I don’t-a understand why I don’t feel like that. And it’s-a not like I can’t-a feel. I remember what-a mama’s death felt like. But why don’t-a I feel…”
“I can’t answer you, Paviche.”
“You’re no help.” Pavi joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“I know.” Luigi replied all too seriously.
Pavi sighed. “Maybe I’ve just-a gotten used to losing people. If-a you jump, fratello, do you think there’s a chance I won’t-a feel it?” Tears pricked at the back of his eyes. This; this he could feel. But losing papa… he couldn’t even shed a single tear.
Luigi sighed. “Pavi, you can’t-”
“I know. But I have to try.”
“It’s going to destroy you when you fail.” When, not if.
“Then-a fight, fratello. Fight against-”
“It’s not that fucking simple.” Luigi stood and headed back to the edge, staring out over the city; keeping his back towards him.
“Then tell-a me, fratello. Talk-a to me.”
Luigi was silent. Pavi just watched him stare over the city. Finally, the quiet voice came. “I look forward and I don’t see anything. I don’t see a future. I don’t see a reason. I just see darkness. There is nothing to go on for.”
Something ugly filled Pavi’s gut. “Am I and sorella not-a enough, fratello?”
“You’re just reminders.”
“Reminders of-a what?”
“That everyone would be better off without me. That if I was never born; you would be…happier.”
Pavi got to his feet. “That isn’t-a true, fratello.” Pavi moved towards his brother, “That-”
“Just stay back.” Luigi’s back was towards him. He caught sight of the exposed forearm and fresh blood that flowed down his wrist.
“That isn’t-a true, fratello.”
“Just imagine it, Pavi. I died as a baby as I was supposed to. Rotti meets Isabella and they have you. And you’re not neglected. You’re happy and you get all the love and attention you deserve. And Isabella never gets that face transplant.”
Something twisted in Pavi’s gut.
“Because she didn’t need to worry she was losing pops. She didn’t need it. And you grow up with your mother happy.”
“And-a what about sorella?”
“Maybe Isabella has a second child. Maybe she does eventually need a transplant. And pops meets Irene and they have Carmela. But its different this time. Pops is there. He doesn’t let Irene bully you. He doesn’t let Irene destroy Carmela’s self-image. And you’re happy. You’re all happy.”
Pavi scoffed. “Are you listening to yourself, fratello? It’s-a like you think papa would have magically changed if-a you were not here.”
“He was busy with GeneCo; with-”
“Si. He was-a always busy with-a GeneCo. Even after your transplant. Papa had-a no reason to neglect us after but he still did. Si, papa was-a busy with-a GeneCo and I couldn’t-a fault him for it. But the times he was-a home, he could have paid-a more attention; he could have spent time with-a us. He didn’t have to blame mama for something out of-a her control.”
“I had an arrest, Pavi.”
“That wasn’t-a anyone’s fault. But papa chose to blame mama. That was-a why she had the surgery.”
“And if it wasn’t because of me-”
“Papachose to blame mama. And then-a when he married Mama Irene, he should-a have seen the kind of person she was. He could-a have stopped the bullying at-a any time. He could-a have told her off for-a the way she talked to Carmela. You seem-a to think that-a life would be better without you but it’s still-a papa’s choices. Not-a yours.”
“And what about your face?”
Pavi fell silent.
“I told you, Paviche. You would be better off.”
Pavi stayed silent. “And-a if you killed yourself, what-a would that change? Would that magically make me better?”
“Maybe.” Luigi was silent. “At least I won’t fuck up again.”
“Fratello…you haven’t-a touched me or Sorella since.”
“So, what? It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make things better. It doesn’t change that I’m still an asshole 95% of the time. It doesn’t change that I still hurt you.”
“Then-a change that, fratello. Leaving doesn’t-a help. Leaving will just make it worse.”
“How?”
Something in Pavi’s chest dropped. “What do you mean-a how?”
“How would leaving make things worse? You would be happier without me.”
“That’s-a not true, fratello, and you know it.”
Luigi was silent.
“You know that right, fratello?”
Luigi refused to say anything.
Pavi approached him slowly. He grabbed his right wrist before he could hurt himself further. He watched fresh angry cuts decorate his brother’s wrist. So much for ‘keeping his temper in control’. “I would-a go through that a 100 times if it meant I would never have to lose you, fratello.” He said quietly.
Luigi pulled his hand back. “Paviche, your savior complex is suffocating. I’m not your fucking project.”
“Fratello, do you think-a I’m doing this to what, feel-a good about myself?”
“Then what?” Luigi hissed. “Why won’t you just leave me to my own shit?”
“Did-a you ever think, fratello, that-a I do this because I’m-a terrified of losing you. Can-a you imagine what it was-a like finding you standing on the ledge, not-a knowing what to do, what to say?”
Luigi sneered. “You should have just pushed me.”
“Fratello!”
“Pavi, please. Just stop this.”
“You won’t-a believe me, will you, fratello? You will-a never believe me no matter what I say.” Pavi headed back to the chair and took a long swig of his drink. “Did I do something to make you think that, fratello? We argued a lot-a sure but…I thought-a it was-a normal. I thought-a we were just annoying each other…I didn’t-a think…”
“It’s not you, Paviche.”
“You just don’t-a believe you deserved to be loved.”
Luigi was silent.
“That’s-a it, isn’t it, fratello? I’ve got it right. I’ve finally gotten it right.”
“You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”
“Because it’s-a what you think you deserve?”
Luigi didn’t answer him.
“Fratello, I don’t-a know if it helps…but I forgave you a long time ago.”
“Shut it.”
“Fratello.”
“Just fuck off, Pavi.”
“Why?”
“Because its fucking bullshit. If you had done something like that to me, you think I would forgive you?”
“Si, fratello.”
Luigi scoffed.
“Was-a that after what happened?”
Luigi looked down at his wrist and fell silent.
“Did-a you think I would have wanted that?”
“You deserved retribution.”
“I deserved an apology.” Pavi spat.
Luigi fell silent once more.
“Do you know how many times you’ve apologized to me in your sleep, fratello? Why is-a it so fucking hard to say it to my face?”
Luigi still kept his silence.
“Forget it, fratello. I don’t…” His voice cracked. “I don’t-a know how to help you.”
“You can’t. I told you not to put it on yourself.”
“I’m-a really as-a useless as papa says.”
“Paviche, this emotional manipulation isn’t-”
“It’s-a not, fratello. I don’t-a know what to do anymore. I really don’t. I thought this was-a about papa. I thought if-a I just stayed here with you, you would-a get over it eventually. But this is…” His brother was broken beyond what he could repair.
“I told you, you can’t save me.”
Pavi closed his eyes. “Fine, fratello. I won’t-a push you anymore. You do what you want. But don’t you dare use me and sorella as-a your excuse. Don’t-a you dare say you’re doing this for us.”
“You would be better off-”
“No. Don’t. Don’t use me as-a your fucking excuse. Don’t say it’s-a retribution or any shit like that. Whatever you feel for papa, that’s-a what you’d put me and sorella through. Don’t-a fucking kid yourself and say it’s for our benefit.”
“I just don’t want to hurt you two anymore.”
“And-a what do you think-a doing this would do? I’m-a tired of losing people, fratello.”
Luigi was silent once more. He slumped in the chair opposite him.
Pavi stared at his brother’s arm. He stood.
“Where are you going?”
“I thought-a you didn’t want me here, fratello.”
Luigi was silent.
“To get the first aid kit.”
“Leave it, Paviche. I’ll deal with it later.”
“No, you won’t.” Pavi left the roof. He leant against the wall and took a breath. He couldn’t give up. He couldn’t give up on his brother. Even if he failed, at least he tried his best. He had to have tried his best. Pavi pushed himself off the wall and found the first aid kit. He headed back to the roof and found his brother still sitting on the chair, nursing his drink. Pavi sighed and sat back opposite him. It was better than staring off the roof.
“Just leave it, Paviche.”
“After all that-a hard work getting it from inside.” He felt his brother’s eyes on him as he cleaned the cuts that adorned his brother’s wrist. His eyes settled on the long scar running down his brother’s arm.
“I’m sorry.”
Pavi clenched his eyes shut. It was what he wanted all this time. It was what he was waiting for but… It didn’t sound like an apology. It sounded like a ‘goodbye’. “I hate you.”
Luigi stiffened.
“You won’t-a even fight. You’re just giving up.”
Luigi’s hand clenched into a fist. He pulled back his hand.
Pavi couldn’t look at him. He kept his gaze on the bloodstained gauze in his hand. He clenched the gauze in his hand. His hand shook. His eyes burned.
“Paviche…”
He dropped the gauze onto the table. He grabbed his brother’s hand and pulled it roughly towards him. He couldn’t fix his brother. He had to fix what he could. He would fix what he could. Pavi rubbed the antiseptic onto the cuts. He would fix what little he could.
Luigi cursed and tried to pull back his hand.
Pavi refused to let him. “I thought-a you liked the pain, fratello.”
“Paviche, stop.”
He numbly realized he had tears running down his face. He released his brother’s hand. He couldn’t look at his brother.
Luigi’s hand hovered over his shoulder. He pulled his hand back. “Paviche…”
“Please don’t-a leave me, fratello.” His voice was choked and small. He felt a hand at the back of his head. He lent forward and leant his head on his brother’s chest. “I can’t-a lose you.”
“Paviche… I can’t promise anything. I…”
“I just-a need you to try. I just-a need you to not give up.”
Luigi sighed. “Ok, Paviche.”
Pavi closed his eyes and leant into his brother’s embrace. That was all he needed for now.
“Fucking crybaby.”
Pavi just snorted. Just one day at a time. They would take this one day at a time.
Note: The next Comfortember entry is not being kind to me. I’ve been at it for the last 4 days writing circles and its not exactly…comfort. I really wanted to get that done but it just refuses to happen. This is just a really old story I had lying around (like 4-5 years ago old). Honestly, my headcanons and the way I write Luigi has changed alot since then. It could probably do with a rewrite. But I think 4 days without posting is really too long. So here’s just an old one-shot.
Luigi inhaled, letting the smoke flood his lungs. He glanced at the picture in his hands and looked once again to the woman he was following. It was her. Someone crashed into him. He slammed the man onto the ground and pressed the knife on his neck.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Here you go. I’m sorry.” He cried holding out the watch he swiped from Luigi.
He smirked as an idea formed. “You want that?” The man just stared wide-eyed at him, unsure how to answer. “See that woman there? I want you to rob her.”
“What?”
“Just rob her and the watch is yours. Just don’t hurt her.”
“Ye…yes sir.” He stumbled to his feet and approached the woman. He pulled a knife on her. “Hey, lady. Your money or your life?”
The woman raised her hands before her. “Please, calm down. I’ll give you the money.”
“Hurry it lady.”
Luigi approached the pair. He wrapped an arm around his neck and twisted his arm, forcing him to drop the knife. He pushed the man away, and he ran. He turned towards the woman. “Are you alright?”
“Yes. You saved me. Thank you.”
“It’s not a problem, ma’am. You shouldn’t be walking alone around here. The streets are dangerous.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be this late.” She laughed. “I just got carried away.” He looked at the shopping bags in her hand. Baby supplies. She couldn’t have been more than 7 months. A bit…excited, wasn’t she?
“Why don’t I help you bring your bags back to your home? Then you wouldn’t have to walk alone.”
“So, I’ll go with a stranger, to avoid other strangers?” She laughed. “I’m joking. You don’t have to be so serious.” She held out her bags towards him. “My back is killing me anyway.”
He didn’t know how to react. Half of him wanted to laugh. Half of him wanted to check again if he got the right woman. She wasn’t what he was expecting, that was for sure. He took the bags from her and followed her to her house.
“So, stranger, have a name?”
“Frank…Romano.”
“Italian?”
“By blood. Was born and raised here.” He paused, “From your accent, I’m guessing you are from there?”
“Well I was born there and I spent most of my childhood there. I came here when I turned 14. I’m guessing the remnants of the accent is from a really vocal family.”
“Must be nice.”
“It is.” She raised her hand, showing off her ring. “My husband is like you. Born and raised here. But believe me when I say, he is more Italian than I am. Those operas he love used to bore me to death.” Luigi chuckled. “Not your thing either?”
“No. But my dad loved it so I was practically raised on it. If I hear even one more aria, it’d be too soon.”
“Tell me about it. We are 90s kids. Give me some pop or something. Not what my grandmother used to listen to.” Luigi gaped at her. “What?”
“Pop? Really?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. Just didn’t peg you for a pop princess.”
“I’m not a princess. And please. You are my age. We should have been raised to the same music.”
“Not. My. Thing. Though you’d probably get along with my sister I suppose.”
“See. I should meet her. She sounds like she has taste.”
“More like she needs her ears examined.”
“Here we are.” She stopped in front of a house. It was decent. A typical middle class suburban home. He bit back a chuckle as the image of his father mowing the lawn like a stereotypical suburban husband. “Why don’t you come in for a drink? It’s the least I can do for dragging you all the way out here.”
Luigi considered refusing and letting her persuade him but he decided not to risk it. “That would be nice. Thank you Mrs-” He stopped himself. He realized she hadn’t introduced herself yet. He nearly gave himself away.
“Largo. But please dear, call me Angelina. I’m married but I’m definitely younger than you.”
Luigi gave a small smile. Definitely not what he expected at all. He followed her in. “Is your husband home?”
“Yes. Though he’s in his office, working. I try not to disturb him.”
Luigi nodded. The thing he first noted about the house was the abundance of photos. Angelina excused herself to keep the bags. He approached the mantel and picked up a frame.
“See something you like?”
He hurried and put down the photo, ashamed at getting caught. “No. You both just seem so happy.”
She laughed. “Why are you so surprised?”
“No. I’m not.” He sputtered. “I just…” He’s just never seen his father smile like that before.
“Not married are you?”
“No. And I don’t fucking…sorry…I don’t plan to.”
“Why not?”
“Doesn’t work. Doesn’t last.” He mumbled. He’d watched pops fall in and out of love with enough women to know that marriage is just an excuse.
“Cynical aren’t you?”
“Realistic.” He took a glance outside. The sun was setting. Soon, he would have to excuse himself like a gentleman. Which meant he’d have to do what he planned to now. He sighed, “Mrs Largo?”
“Frank dear, please. I’ve told you to call me Angelina. I won’t tell you again.”
“Angelina,” it tasted weird on his tongue but no weirder than ‘Mrs Largo’ had felt. “I know how this is going to sound but you have to abort that baby.” Well, let no one accuse him of beating around the bush. Luigi Largo, King of Fucking Tact.
The friendly smile dissolved into disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“The doctors were wrong. The baby will kill you.”
Her expression soured instantly. “I think you need to leave.”
“You have to believe me.”
“Now!”
“Listen!”
“Leave!”
“I’m from the future.”
She paused. She erupted into laughter, “You had me there for a second.”
“I’m not joking. I’m telling the truth.”
Her face turned serious. “You’re insane.”
He smashed his fist against the wall in frustration. “I’m not! It’s hard to believe I know. Rotti Largo will build up GeneCo, hailed as a hero for finding a solution for the plague.”
“Frank-”
“But he’ll do it alone. You’ll die giving birth to that baby. You have to get rid of it.”
“How do you know about GeneCo? Rotti’s barely made plans.”
“I told you I’m from the future. There isn’t a person who hasn’t heard of GeneCo. I’m not lying.”
She just stared at him and something in her expression softened. For some reason, she decided to believe him. “Does he survive?”
“What?”
“The baby, my son, does he live?”
He froze, “Yes…” the response slipped out before he could catch it. As he saw her brow harden, he knew he should have lied.
“The doctors suspected all along. I just never had the heart to tell Rotti. He would have forced me to get rid of him.”
He growled in frustration, “He would be right, wouldn’t he? You can have more kids! Give it a few more years when GeneCo has the technology to save you!”
“And what about Luigi?”
“What?”
“My son. What about him? Get-get rid of it?” She points an accusatory finger at him. “It’s a life, he’s alive. Just this morning I felt him kick. It’s so easy for you to say get rid of him but he’s my son. What you are asking for is murder.”
“Your son is a murderer!” He hissed. “He doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. He’s a monster.”
“So this is what it’s about? Some ‘hero’ being sent to the past to assassinate a baby.” He held back a shiver as her eyes grew cold. “You are going to have to kill me if you want to lay a hand on my child.”
He took the chair and threw it at the wall, smashing it to pieces. “Why the fuck are you so stubborn!? That thing in your stomach is a creature. It’s a murderer from the minute he was born and he’ll be a murderer until he dies.”
Heavy footsteps echoed outside as Rotti Largo burst through the door. “What the hell is going on here?”
His eyes widened, he never expected to see the man again and there he was looking younger and healthier than ever.
“He’s trying to kill our son.”
Rotti’s eyes narrowed murderously. Rotti pulled out a gun and pointed it at him. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m from the future. I was given a chance to fix a mistake. If you let that boy be born, he will kill your wife in the process.”
“Stop lying.”
The gun went off and a sharp pain shot up his leg. He let out a curse as he fell to the ground. “I’m not!” He said through gritted teeth. “Why the fuck would I go through all this trouble if I just wanted it dead? I’m trying to save your wife’s life.”
“Why?”
He racked his brain ignoring the pain radiating up his leg. The blood wasn’t spurting out or bright red, unlikely to be an artery. “A favour. You saved my life, I owed it to you.” Not that far from the truth.
“Even if you are telling the truth. You are asking me to choose between my wife and my son.”
“It’s not much of a choice! You’ll hate him. You can have more kids, better kids. And she’ll be there. She’ll be alive.” To his dismay, he found tears running down his face. He hurried to wipe them off before they saw.
“What’s your name?”
He froze, “I told you, it’s Frank.”
She knelt in front of him ignoring her husband’s cries of protest and raised his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Who are you?”
“Please.”
“Luigi?”
He couldn’t protest any longer. He dropped his head in defeat. “I’m sorry.” He knew somewhere deep inside, from the short time he’d spent with her, she wasn’t going to abort her child. He failed.
“Fuck!”
He turned towards his father and changed tactics immediately, “Pops please, you have to stop her. You’ll regret it, if you don’t.”
“Fuck!” Rotti repeated.
“You’re the only one in this family who has any sense. Convince her!”
“Why are you doing this?” He doubled back as he saw the tears in her eyes.
“There were only 2 events in my life of my own doing that I wanted to change. I figured if I change this, the second one won’t even happen. I know what I’m risking but this might be the only chance for our family to have a normal life.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Even with a different mother, they might still be born. I know it’s a risk but what we had…have can’t be called a family.”
“And you think me living will change all that?”
“I think you not dying will change everything.” He choked out. “I… I can’t say anymore. I was only allowed to change this. Please, listen to me. Luigi fucking Largo doesn’t fucking beg, but I’m begging you now.”
“What will happen to you? You’ll die.” His mother-no calling her his mother seemed too foreign as well-looked at him with such a depth of pain that he couldn’t help but feel guilty.
“I don’t care!”
“How can you not care!?”
“How can you!?"Maybe he hadn’t inherited his stubbornness from his pops after all. "Which part of this don’t you understand? I killed you! Don’t you understand that!?”
She bent down beside him once again, cupping his face in her hand, “Oh my boy, my son, how… how can you think that?” Her other hand reached out to stroke his hair back. She noted how he flinched from her touch.
“Please… I’m begging you. Please. Let me fix this. I need to fix this. Please.”
“It’s not your job to fix this.”
“No, you’re right; it’s yours.” He said turning to his father. “Pops please, if you love her like you always said you did, you’d stop this. Pops please.”
“I need to think.”
“What’s there to think? You never forgave me for this! Never thought I was worth losing her over.” The words flowed off his tongue; everything he held again this father come slipping out. He’d known, he’d always known his father never loved him. So he tried, he worked his ass off to keep his Pops proud. He thought he’d succeeded, he’d actually thought he’d done something right.
Rotti looked at him with abject horror. He’d seemed so different than the man he remembered. Had losing his wife really changed him that much?
“Look at me.” His eyes met his mothers’. “Luigi, if this is the only chance I’d get to meet you, I want you to know I’m so proud of you.”
“You know nothing about me. I wasn’t lying. I’m a murderer with a temper I can’t fucking control. You would hate me too. Please, save yourself.”
She pulled him into a hug. He froze, unsure of how he should feel or react. Slowly, he melted into her embrace. He wished he could have known her. She was as wonderful as his father would say on the rare occasions he was drunk enough to let down his guard.
He pulled away from her, hands shaking. "I am so sorry. Please forgive me.“ His hand tightened around the knife and drove it into her abdomen.
A cry of pain escaped her lips as her eyes widened in shock. He turned towards his father, "Get help.” Rotti rushed out of the room and he turned towards his mother. “I’m sorry.”
He grabbed her as she fell forward. “Why?”
“Don’t you dare die. The knife wasn’t long enough to reach your internal organs and by the flow of the blood, no arteries either. So you better not fu- kick it.”
“You sound like an expert on stabbing pregnant ladies or something.”
He looked away. “I told you I’m not a good person.”
“So what happens now?”
“I don’t know. There’s no way I could have missed so-” Blood trailed down his chin. He looked downwards and the front of his shirt turned red. “Lungs, there’s no way the baby would survive that.” He felt so much calmer than he should be. He leaned on the wall behind him.
“You have no right.”
“I know. But I take what I want. No one tells me what to do.” He felt weak. “Stable yourself, I can’t hold you up.”
He helped her sit down, leaning on the same wall he was. “This is annoying.” She reached to the knife in her stomach.
“Don’t pull it out. You’ll bleed out.” She obliged.
“You’re awfully relaxed for someone with a stabbed lung.”
“Had bad lungs for years. Was one of GeneCos first patients. Guessed I got used to it.”
“Luigi… I can’t let you do this.”
“Can’t really do anything about it now.” He shifted slightly, fuck it hurt. “Just promise me something. Don’t… don’t let this be a waste. Promise me you’ll live… and you’ll be happy.”
“I can’t promise something like that. I…” She paused and looked at him. “Tell me what I’ve missed. Your life, what’s it like?”
“There isn’t much to tell.” He placed a hand on his chest against the pain. “Spent my whole life in Gene Co really. One brother, one sister. Lung transplant at 15, GeneCo was already thriving by then. Liver transplant every couple of years since I started to drink.”
“Girlfriend?”
“None of them lasted long, not with them always pissing me off.”
“Two siblings huh?”
He nodded slowly, it became harder to initiate movement. “Pops married twice. Nearly a third. But I don’t think he loved any of them. Attracted to maybe but not love. He wouldn’t have had them killed if he loved them. ”
“That’s horrible.”
His eyelids fluttered, it was hard to keep them open. “I guess. Had to learn it from somewhere. Told ya the whole family’s screwed up.”
He felt a hand on his cheek again. Her hand was warm, she wasn’t going into shock yet. “Luigi, don’t.”
“I’m fine. I’ll wait for help with you. Make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”
“Yea stupid seems to run in the family.”
A grin formed on Luigi’s face, “Yea it does.” A cough escaped his lips, spattering blood on the front of his shirt. He leaned heavily onto the wall. “Pops could certainly hurry it up though.”
Tears flowed down her cheeks, “You don’t have to hold on for me. It’s alright.”
“Nah, am full of shit. Just want more time. I…” He faltered.
“What is it?”
“May…may I call you mom?” He looked at the ground.
A choked sob escaped her lips. She pulled him towards her, resting her forehead on his. “Yes…” She choked out, “yes.”
“Mom…” He breathed out. Tears flowed down his face before he could stop them. He wished he could have it both ways, he wished he could have her. He wanted to get to know her. He wanted more.
“Angelina.” The voice was soft, caring, an emotion he wasn’t used to in that voice. He pulled away from his mother and hid his face so his father wouldn’t see him cry.
“Mrs Largo, we’ll take you to the hospital now. How are you feeling? Do you feel cold?”
He felt a hand on his shoulder, “Sir, are you alright? Can you tell me what happened to you?”
“Leave me alone.”
“Sir, you are bleeding badly. You need help.”
“I refuse. Now fuck off.”
“Sir-”
“I said fuck off.”
“Luigi…”
He reached out and laid a hand on hers, “Goodbye.”
She stared at him, “There has to be-” He shook his head tiredly. “Luigi, please…” The paramedics told her to go with them. “I…” She placed a warm, gentle kiss on his forehead. “I love you.”
He couldn’t reply her. The words were stuck in his throat. He had never used those words before, not in his family.
The paramedics placed an IV drip into her hand. “Please,” She whispered, “Please save my baby.”
He closed his eyes in frustration, stubborn woman. The paramedics approached him again, “Sir, are you sure you do not want help? It looks serious.”
“Fu-”
“Yea, fuck off. Got it.”
The paramedics carted his mother to the ambulance. Rotti stopped one of them, “Save my wife. If it comes down to her or the child, save her.”
The paramedic nodded, “You are not coming with, sir.”
“No. There’s something I need to do.”
Tiredly, he raised his head to look at his father. Hesitantly, Rotti approached him and sat in front of him. “Pops.”
“I…I wanted to apologize.”
“For?”
“For not being a good father.”
“Pops, no. It’s not-”
“No. From what you said, from the way you act. It’s obvious. You deserved better.” He swallowed, collecting his words. “I’m proud of what you’ve done today, for your mother. You’re very brave.”
He stared at his father, not comprehending his words. “What did you say?”
“That you were brave.”
“No before that.”
“That I’m proud.”
“I’ve waited my whole life to hear you say that. Guess all it took was for me too die.”
His father looked at him with a mixture between pity and regret. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be. It wasn’t like…it wasn’t like I was an easy child. Jealous of a sibling who had what I wanted…a mother. I just…never tried to get along with her, rebuked all her attempts to get to know me. After she died, you’d think I’d have felt sorry for him but I hated him even more. He was miserable and weak. He could be weak and no one cared. I spent my childhood learning how to run GeneCo and he spent it playing. I hated everything about him. I continued acting out more and more until one day I did something I could never take back. I can’t blame you for hating me. I hate me too.” A bitter laugh erupted from his throat which soon turned into a bout of wet coughs.
“I wish I had a chance to try again.” Rotti said quietly. “I wish I could give you the childhood you deserve. I wish there didn’t have to be a choice.”
“It’s alright, pops. I’ve made peace with my choice. I think it’s the right choice for once, don’t you?” Luigi’s face fell, he nearly forgot. With a shaky hand, he reached into his pocket and passed the crumpled paper to Rotti. “She said they wouldn’t be erased. But if m…mom cannot have more kids…Paviche and Carmela. These are their date of births and their moms’ names. It wouldn’t be fair for them to be erased as well. They deserve a better life. I know you and mom can give it to them.”
Rotti pocketed the note and laid a gentle hand on his arm. “I understand. I will do everything in my power to ensure that they will be born.”
Luigi nodded. “Thank you.” It was hard to keep his eyes open. He was so tired.
“Luigi?” Luigi forced his eyes open and looked at him questioningly. Why was his vision so blurry? “No never mind, I thought…” There was a pain in his voice that Luigi didn’t understand. The same pain in his mother’s voice. It didn’t make sense. He was no one to the, A stranger they’d barely known. An idea, that’s all he was. An idea of a child they’d never know. Luigi shivered, it was getting cold. As his vision blurred, the man in front of him looked exactly like his father.
“Pops…I’m…glad…I got to…see you again. I’ve…missed you.” If Rotti was surprised or affected by the fact that he was dead, he didn’t show it. “I’m sorry…I never realized you were sick.” It was getting harder to clear the iron in his throat and he began to choke. Rotti turned him to his side, allowing the blood to flow out of his mouth.
“That’s enough, son. It’s alright.”
On his side, he could no longer see his father, could no longer see much of anything. A pained gasp, “I love ya, pops.” A final sigh.
Notes: Just an idea I had when reading the word ‘recovery, post whump’ from the Comfortember page. Sequel to the Kidnapping storyline from whumptober. Just a snapshot of a day in the life 6 months after the incident and how everyone is coping.
Pavi opened his eyes, got out of bed and got dressed. He picked up a small notebook from the dressing table. 3 meetings at 10am, 12pm and 3pm; the catering for the GeneCo party had to be confirmed today and he had to finalize the budget. The closed the notebook and repeated what he had to do one more time. He slipped the notebook into his front pocket. He glanced at the clock, he still had a bit of time. He glanced at the list taped to his mirror and closed his eyes. “Deer, monkey, cat, dog…” He opened his eyes, checked the list and smiled. He left the room and headed to the dining room.
Amber and Luigi were already there. Pavi sat down. “Slept-a well, fratello?”
Luigi just grunted. He rubbed his right thigh.
It had been 6 months since they found Luigi. 6 months until their changed life had settled into some form of routine. “Still-a bad, fratello?”
“It’s manageable.” The stump had healed well and it took some time for Luigi to get used to the prosthetic. But he was able to move around. The frustration and helplessness had fizzled out and he could see his brother adjusting to the limb. The left arm however seemed to incapacitate him more. He had to learn to do things one handed as he couldn’t move the limb below his elbow. It took time but Luigi learned to manage.
“When’s-a your next appointment with the physiotherapist?”
“It’s a waste of time.” Luigi grimaced as he grabbed his leg once more. There wasn’t much they could for phantom pains. But the physiotherapist suggested electrotherapy to sooth the nerve endings. “Tomorrow.” He grabbed a piece of sausage and stared at it. He hesitated for a moment before eating it.
It took months before Luigi started eating meat again and even that was white meat and processed meat. He refused to touch steaks or prime cuts. But he was eating. He was definitely eating more than he ever did before anyway. Breakfast used to be 1 cup of coffee. Now at least he was eating.
“Brother, I know it was due next week; but the florist needs the order for the party today. Seems like orders are high for that time. They want to know how much to hold for us.”
Pavi nodded. He took out the notebook and scribbled in ‘Florist; GeneCo Party; today’.
“How many are we ordering this year?”
Pavi furrowed his brow. “10 bouquets of-a orchids for-a the archway outside, 20 bouquets of-a roses for the hall…no 25;” Shit, what else. “The Pavi has-a it written somewhere, sorella.” She didn’t have to doubt him.
“I know.” He glanced at his sister but she didn’t seem annoyed.
Pavi relaxed slightly. She was just trying to help him practice remembering.
“Done eating?”
“Yea. The Pavi has-a a lot to prepare for-a the party.” Pavi pushed back his chair. He looked at the ground. His feet were both firmly planted down. He stood.
“Need help?”
“No. The Pavi can-a handle it.” He stepped back from the table, made sure the chair was out of his way and headed out of the dining room. He kept his eyes on the ground; making sure his feet were in the right position and nothing was in his way. He had so many cuts and bruises the first few months. Tripping over things he just didn’t notice; scratching himself on something sharp that he couldn’t feel until he realized his pants were soaked. Walking now became second nature again; as long as he paid attention.
Amber walked by his side; always a step or two back. Habit he supposed. Pavi hasn’t tripped over his own feet in a long time. But Amber was always there; ready to catch him if he stumbled.
They separated at their offices. Pavi checked the notebook once more; making sure nothing was missing. It was going to be a long day.
***
“So sorella, The Pavi will remember ordering the flowers.”
Pavi put the phone down with a click. Annoyance filled him but he pushed it back. This had nothing to do with reminding him about the flowers.
Amber thinks she was unaffected by what happened 6 months ago. But this is the 2nd call she made to him today since they saw each other at breakfast. She needed to know where they were at all times. And even if she did; she still called to be sure. If not them; then their assistants to ensure eyes were on them. It was suffocating at first. But Pavi had to remind himself that Amber was dealing too. And a barely 5 minute call was not going to take much out of his day.
“Yes, it’s done.”
Pavi looked up to see Luigi enter his office. Luigi hung up the call and shook his head.
“Sorella is-a worried, fratello.”
“I know.” He sighed. He sat on the other side of Pavi’s desk. “At least she doesn’t call every hour anymore.”
The Genterns placed two plates of food before them. Luigi gave a sigh but started eating. The dietician still managed most of his meals. A high protein, high calorie diet; which was tough to achieve without meat.
“Just-a tell the dietician that-a you’re willing to eat certain meats, fratello.”
“Not yet. I’m not ready.”
Pavi was quiet. Maybe Luigi was not enjoying processed meats as much as he thought. “It’s-a ok to be vegetarian, fratello, it’s-a healthy.”
“It’s girly.”
“No, fratello. It’s-a not.” Pavi gave his brother a pointed look. Why was his brother so resistant to finding new things that work for him? He was so desperate to put things back to normal; even if normal doesn’t work anymore.
Luigi didn’t say anything but rubbed his head.
“Another migraine?”
Luigi grunted.
“You said-a you’ve been sleeping well.”
“I said I was sleeping.” Luigi said with a finality that the topic was over.
Pavi sighed. 6 months and it wasn’t getting close to better. And Luigi wouldn’t admit that he needed help. It took Pavi too long to realize what was wrong after Luigi got out of the hospital. He had been sleeping in the hospital decently enough. He was woken by nightmares – they all were – but he was still sleeping. At first he thought Luigi was being Luigi; long working hours, refusing to sleep. It was when he finally collapsed in exhaustion that Pavi dragged him to bed.
“Sleep-a, fratello.” He turned off the lights for his brother and headed to the door. He nearly missed it at first. Then he heard it; the quick, panicked breathing. He turned back towards his brother; eyes clenched shut, hand gripping the bedsheets painfully tight. “Fratello?”
Luigi’s eyes shot open but he wasn’t looking at him. “You’re not real. You’re just my imagination. You’re not real.”
“Fratello, you’re not-a there anymore. You’re home. You’re safe.” He placed a careful hand on Luigi’s shoulder.
Luigi looked slowly at his hand. “Paviche?”
“I’m-a here, fratello. You’re in-a your room. You’re in-a your bed. You’re safe.”
“The lights. Please.”
Pavi turned the lights back on. He turned back to his brother seeing him sitting on the edge of his bed, breathing heavily. “Why didn’t-a you say anything, fratello?”
“It’s pathetic.”
“No, fratello. It’s-a not.” Pavi sat next to Luigi. “Have you talked to the psychiatrist?”
“I don’t need a fucking shrink.”
“Fratello…it-a helps.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not-a. And it’s-a ok to not be.”
“It’s pathetic is what it is.”
Pavi sighed. “How did-a the hospital help? How was it-a different?”
“It was never really quiet. The nurses walking down the hall; the beeps of the machines. It was never quiet. And the light in the hall kept the room bright. Not bright enough that I couldn’t sleep but…it wasn’t darkness.”
Ideas formed in Pavi’s head but nothing that they could do right now. “What would-a help now?”
“Working.”
“Fratello…” Pavi sighed.
“If I’m exhausted enough, I just collapse and there’s nothing; not even nightmares. I’m not tired enough yet. I just-”
“Not-a like that, fratello. That-a isn’t healthy.”
“It works.”
Pavi sighed and headed to the light switch once more.
“Pavi, please.”
Pavi closed his eyes at the desperation in Luigi’s begging. Luigi wouldn’t have collapsed if he wasn’t already exhausted. He needed rest. He flicked the light switch off.
“Fuck.” The panicked breathing filled the room once more.
Pavi approached his brother slowly.
Luigi eyes were clenched shut once more. He was still sitting up; his good hand clutching the bed tight.
“Fratello. Look-a at me. You’re alright.”
“You’re not real. You’re dead. You’re not-”
Pavi placed a gentle hand on Luigi’s shoulder. “I’m-a right here, fratello. I’m-a alive.”
Luigi forced his eyes opened and looked at him. “Paviche.”
“I’m-a here, fratello.” He gently pushed his brother back into bed.
Luigi’s eyes clenched shut once more.
“Fratello, feel-a the bed under you. You’re in-a bed. You’re safe. You’re home.”
Luigi’s eyes opened slowly once more. “I’m home.”
“Si.” Pavi released his hand for just a moment.
“Pa…paviche?”
Pavi climbed into bed next to his brother. He placed his hand on Luigi’s arm once more. “I’m-a here, fratello. Just-a getting comfortable.”
“Fag.” Luigi choked out.
“Just-a close your eyes and-a rest, fratello. I’m-a right here. I’m-a not going anywhere.”
Luigi closed his eyes but his breathing remained fast and panicked.
Pavi started humming an old Italian lullaby his mother used to sing to him when he was young. His grip on Luigi’s arm remained firm. He watched his brother’s panicked breathing begin to slow.
“Is-a the night light and-a music not-a working, fratello?”
“I’m not a child!” Luigi spat.
Pavi sighed. “I’m-a not an 80 year old man. But I still-a need something to help-a me remember what I have to do for the day.” Pavi held out the notebook. “Am I pathetic for-a that, fratello?”
“No.”
“Then-a why the double standard? We are all-a dealing with this, fratello.”
Luigi sighed but said nothing.
“Do you need-a company tonight, fratello?”
“No.”
“You will-a use the light and music?”
Luigi sighed. “Yes.”
***
Pavi watched his siblings having a conversation in the living room. All the changes in their lives had become routine to them. But Pavi had to admit, not all of them were bad. Pavi sat on the sofa where Amber decided that he was a more comfortable backrest. Luigi poured him a drink which Pavi graciously accepted.
“What took you so long?”
“The caterer keeps-a calling to reconfirm the order.”
“Thisis the most elaborate party you’ve planned, brother.”
“I know. But after the year we’ve had, I think-a we deserve it.”
“You’re having a meeting in person tomorrow at Angelli’s right? After your 11am meeting.”
“Sorella…” Annoyance crept in. “I don’t-a need you memorizing my schedule to remind me. I can-a remember it fine myself.” He snapped.
Amber sat up straight. “I…I hadn’t…”
Luigi glared at him.
“I just…wanted to know if you were leaving GeneCo. I…”
Fuck. She was worried. “I’ll-a be at Angelli’s at 1pm tomorrow. I’m-a bringing a team of bodyguards and security. My assistant will-a be there so you can-a call if-a you need to check in.”
“Sorry. I know it’s annoying.”
“No, sorella. Mi dispiace. We are all coping.”
“If it’ll keep your mind off it, I’ll join you for lunch tomorrow. Ok, Mela?”
Amber nodded quietly. “You have an appointment with the physiotherapist at 2.”
“Noted.”
Right. She had Luigi’s schedule memorized as well. She wasn’t hounding him about his memory. He had to remind himself that. He turned to Amber staring at him. “Yes, sorella?”
“Can’t you have the meeting at GeneCo? In 3 months, the clause in papa’s will will be voided. If they wanted to act, they’d act now.”
“Ok, sorella.”
Amber’s eyes widened in surprise. “And here I prepared a long argument in my head.”
“If-a it’ll help you sleep better tonight.”
“Thank you, brother.” She leant on his arm once more.
Pavi caught his brother smiling at them but decided not to call his brother out on it. They were all dealing with what happened in their own way. But…at least…they were dealing together.
