We are products of our past, but we don't have to be prisoners of it.

~Rick Warren~

                                      Romano

Mia remained reserved and sad for a long time after I brought her home. I caught her often staring into space, zoned out as if she was seeking help from an invisible being. The unending sadness clouding her seemed like a permanent fixture; the tears she shed both awake and asleep became her companion.

I didn't know how to help, so I let her be and hoped she would come to me sooner.

Then one afternoon, I went home to find her in the living room, seated with her feet underneath her, a glass of juice on the table, and a bottle of whiskey and glass placed directly opposite her.

I leaned on the door for about five minutes before announcing my presence, watching as she nervously looked at more than a few small cards shaped like bookmarks made out of cardboard with words written on them. She looked so engrossed in whatever she was doing she didn't hear me come in.

"Bella Mia," I said. She jerked out in shock, moving her eyes to me, keeping them on me until I sat on my side as indicated by the whiskey.

"I didn't hear you come in, "her breathy whisper was filled with apprehension, so was the look in her eyes. I wondered what had her so edgy, but I figured I was about to find

Sitting with my leg across the kneel, I poured myself a glass of whiskey as I waited for her to begin. I watched her over the glass; her head bowed slightly as if she was contemplating how to go about it.

She was wearing one of my T-shirts big enough to be a dress Shirt on her.

We stayed like that for a while, in silence, each with our own thoughts, but none of us wanted to share them. During this time of convalescing, we spent a lot of time in silence. It had become so much part of us that I was afraid it might end up being part of our relationship, and I hated it.

Suddenly, I heard her clear her throat. Lifting her head, her eyes collided with mine, she blushed and then smiled, shuffling the cards with trembling hands.

She averted her eyes again, "What's going on, Bella Mia?"

She looked up again. " I need to ask you a few questions," she said sotto voce. I nodded and waited.

She threaded her hair with both hands, shaking the end slightly before releasing it and pointing her gaze at me.

"Ask me anything."

"I didn't know how to approach this, so I wrote the questions down on these, " she flicked the cards and then placed then on top of her legs.

I nodded again, Patiently yet anxious about what answers she was about to seek. I had promised to tell her anything she wanted to know about me, but that did not mean I was looking forward to stripping myself bare.

"The easiest one is, did you have anything to do with what happened to Chad?"

"Is that one in one of those cards?" I smiled indulgently at her to make her relax.

She shook her head.

"Yes, I did," I responded without a trace of remorse.

"Why?"

"Because he was the one who set you up."

"How did you know?"

"I figured it out, and he did not dispute it when I called him out on it."

"Did you at any moment during that meeting want to kill him?"

I should have lied; I should have said no, but I ended up telling the truth.

"I wanted to kill him before the meeting, during the meeting, and after the meeting."

"What stopped you?"

"You. I thought you might never forgive me if I killed the bastard.

Her mouth stretched in what I assumed was a smile.

"I could still do it if you want, " I offered, taking a sip of my drink.

"Don't joke about that."

"It wasn't a joke," I whispered, looking into her face.

"Thank you for not killing him."

"You're welcome, though the choice not to was based on you."

She looked shyly at me. It was always such a surprise to her how much she meant to me or how much I valued her opinion of me. It was imperative to me that Mia never looks at me differently than she did.

She loved me. Her eyes and words told me that much. I wouldn't have jeopardized that for anyone, let alone that bastard.

"I know I haven't been easy to live within the last couple of weeks," she began, and I opened my mouth to cut her off, but she held up her hand, stopping me before I could say a word, "please let me say this, " I nodded which I seemed to do quite often these days.

"I'm not okay, Rom." when she said that, I knew she would cry before the end of whatever this was.

"What are we calling this?" I asked, biting my lips as I gestured at the both of us.

She broke into a smile "heart to heart." she said it as if it was both a question and a statement.

I was glad she smiled; I wasn't ready for her tears yet, I don't even think I would ever be ready for her tears. If she never cried again in our life,  it would be the best gift from the universe.

" I have written down some of the questions, some you might not like to answer in which case, please respond with a pass."

"I will answer every question you ask."
She looked skeptical, her eyes filled with doubt, biting her lower lip as she held up the first card.

"How did you feel about the baby when you first heard about it?" we looked at each other, my surprised look searching her face, not for the answer, I already had it, but for the courage to finally talk about it.

Was she finally ready to talk about it?

"Anger." I murmured, pouring myself another drink. I finally understood why she'd placed the whole bottle for me.

" I know. But I'm asking about the baby." I didn't understand the question; my face must have registered my confusion because she began to clarify," How did you feel about my pregnancy, not the abortion."

"Oh, "

She nodded, her gaze showing impatience as she waited for my answer.

"To be honest, I didn't think of the pregnancy as much as I thought about the forced abortion. At first, I blamed myself for making you pregnant; I told myself, if I hadn't done it, you wouldn't have gone through the physical pain of the abortion or the emotional pain of having been forced to abort it. I still do."  I whispered that last sentence in a voice filled with regret.

"I think Silvio would have raped me that first night if hadn't been pregnant," Mia muttered, nervously gnawing on the inside of her lips.

"I have thought about it for a long time; maybe the pregnancy was a blessing in disguise. I don't know, but either way, I was doomed from the beginning. It was bound to end with me in tears."

I felt a wave of anger and hatred go through my whole body wishing upon every lousy luck upon that son of a bitch in whichever cave he was hiding in.

"What did you think of the baby?" I asked her the same question. She was quiet for a long time until I thought she might not want to answer it.

"When the doctor said I was pregnant, I couldn't believe it at first, I mean...it was the worst possible timing. I thought, what kind of a God would do this to me?" She threw me a look, then settled it at the card she was holding, intensely looking at it as if it had some hidden writing of codes to a secret maze.

"But when Silvio told the doctor to get rid of it, I felt as if someone was yanking my heart out." she whimpered, wiping off tears from the corner of her eyes.

"I wanted that baby. I loved him." I held out a white handkerchief to her; she took it with shaking hands. I let her cry without saying a word, not because I figured it was the best thing to do, but because I had no idea what to say to comfort her.

I just sat there feeling useless and helpless.

"One of the reasons I loved it is because you were the father and because I conceived it in love, "

"I know, Bella Mia, " the words felt insufficient yet comforting.

"I hate what they did to me, but I hate even more that Silvio felt he had the right to kill my baby, " she continued again, sneezing loudly into the handkerchief.

"I killed Paulie; I'm still looking for Silvio."

"Do you think I'm bad if I'm okay with their death?"

"No, Bella Mia, you're human." she nodded, placing the handkerchief folded in a bundle beside the still untouched glass of juice.

"Rom,"

"Yes,"

"The doctor was as bad."

"I know where he is. " I responded without adding that the reason I hadn't killed him was that she still needed me closer to her until she could be okay to be left alone.

I knew the doctor must have been cruel for Mia to call for his death.  She was the epitome of kindness and fairness, but she also had a threshold of how much pain and bullshit she could take that is why she vowed never to see her mother and grandmother ever again.

She lifted the glass of her juice to her lips, taking the first sip since I came in. I stared at her bowed head and knew she was trying to compose herself.

"Can I please ask you another question before you ask me yours?"

She lifted her red-rimmed eyes, wiping off one rogue tear from the bottom eyelid with her index finger.

"were you given anesthetic during the abortion?

"Im not sure, but it was so painful, so painful it was as if they were cutting my body in half with a chainsaw."

"Oh babe, I'm so sorry, " I said, swearing at the unfairness that was life.

Hide,  you motherfucker, but if you let me find you, it'll be your last day. I thought of Silvio, suddenly feeling as if I was cooked up on that seat. I stood, starting to pace, my feet barely making a thud.

"If wasn't your fault, " Mia said with an artificial smile.

" Can I continue with the rest?"

"Sure. Sure." I run my hand through my hair, waiting anxiously for the next question.

"How did you know where Silvo was keeping me?"

"Manuel told us and father Jõse sent us a very cryptic message that took us a few minutes to decode."

She smiled then, an almost happy one this time. Maybe I would get my girl back after this. I thought, hoping that these questions were the beginning of healing and the next chapter of our life.

"Did you ever doubt I would come for you?"

"Not for a second. The question was how long it would take to find me, but I knew no matter how long it took, you were coming for me. Stefano, in the few moments he was coherent, kept telling Silvio the same thing."

"Thank you for believing in me."

"Always."

Time seemed to stop as we stared into each other's eyes, sharing our pain and bonding over what we had both lost.

"Im sorry about the baby, " I murmured, going back to sit and pour myself another drink. " I should tell you, I'm about to be drunk, Bella Mia."

She laughed, and it felt as if it was the beginning of another chapter for me because I missed her so damn much.

" I wanted to ask about your father," she whispered as if she knew it was a forbidden subject.

"My father was an irresponsible son of a bitch", I said with no feeling whatsoever. " I can count the number of times I saw him until I was fifteen years."

"Im sorry, " she said with tears glistening her eyes. "Don't cry for me, Bella, I have never needed him."

She nodded, but I could see she wanted to add something else to that.

"I know you have a lot to ask me, " I said, looking at the remaining cards on her left," but can we get some rest for a while?" I wanted to hold her in my arms, watch her fall asleep, and keep her in my embrace like a safety blanket.

"Now you and I have more than memories, Bella Mia, we are parents, the baby wasn't born, but it existed." She must have loved what I said because she crossed over and sat on my lap, wrapping her hands around my neck. She felt so good in my arms; the feeling felt both new and old.

"Can I kiss you?"