Page 27 of Forbidden Fruit
And what does it say about me that my thighs clenches in response?
I nod. “We should really go to Livia,” I whisper. I look at my watch. “And Anton will come out of school soon.” I give him a nervous smile and lower my eyes to see that our hands are still linked. I motion to move but he holds mine into his much bigger one.
“I…” He clears his throat and lets go, gliding his fingers through his hair and smoothing the strands away from his forehead where they have fallen. “You should take some time for yourself,” he finally declares.
I square my shoulders and slide my hands over my dress. They’re damp from the rush of adrenaline and I know when I get home tonight, I’ll crash, but right now, I need something to do. I don’t want to dwell on what just happened. Fear and lust are coursing through my veins and messing with my brain and I need the distraction of my routine to come to terms with what just happened.
“I don’t need time. What I need is to work.”
Lino eyes me warily but nods and we move in sync to take the kids back home.
When we arrive at the Marquesi home, I bid them good night and lock myself into my flat. Flashes of my past haunt me all night as they mix with Chris’s face in my nightmares.
My mother and I moved with my aunt Hannah when my mother lost her job. She made us work for every meal. I was doing more chores and child-rearing than homework the six months before my mother’s passing. In my dream now, Chris stands next to Aunt Hannah as I beg her for help to pay my mother’s cancer treatment. They both laugh as they choke me and kick me and tell me to work harder on the chores around the house while my mother withers away.
I startle awake, brow wet with drops of sweat, my heart pounding in my chest.
“I am safe. I am safe. I am safe,” I repeat to myself in the dark. My aunt can’t reach me. I left the day she beat me black and blue six months after my mother passed. And Chris? I don’t know what will happen to me but I trust Lino to fulfil his promise to me. I’m safe. The demons in my head can’t hurt me and the ones in my life won’t ever come close again.
FIFTEEN
DOES HE REALLY HAVE TO BE SUCH A DICK?
Lino and I don’t talk about what happened with Chris but everything about him shifted that day. Every evening when he comes home, it’s like his eyes rove over me to check if I’m hurt. Only when he’s satisfied I’m safe and sound does he move on and bids me goodnight. And every time, I blush a little harder, and feel a little deeper. And that’s fucking dangerous.
“Vanessa, I don’t feel so well,” Anton murmurs when I pick him up from school, taking me out of my daydream about his dad. His voice scratches at the back of his throat and he looks so pale even his blond hair looks dull. It’s matted at the back of his neck when I put on his coat before we go home.
“Let me see.” I press my lips to his forehead and they immediately catch the heat emanating from his little body. As we walk back to the house, his pace slows and he whines about everything and nothing.
“It’s okay, baby, we’re almost there.”
“Noooo,” sobs rakes Anton’s little frame and I curse under my breath, noticing that he’s turning shades of green.
“Okay, okay. Livia, darling, can you let your brother sit in the buggy? I’ll carry you instead. Wouldn’t that be fun? You can play koala.” I brighten my tone, so as not to alert his sister thatanything's wrong. She nods, always easy and sweet, and lets Anton sit in her place. She even kisses his cheeks and I wince. If Anton is sick, I need to remove the little one from his vicinity, unless I want to end up with two sick children on my hands.
I’ve never taken care of sick children. I may have raised my cousin, but my aunt would never let me near him if he was sick, like I was the reason for her son not feeling well. My heart accelerates at the prospect of fucking up and having one of them wither away with sickness. I’m also scared shitless of Mr Marquesi yelling at me. Objectively, I know he would know it’s not my fault, and I think we made progress after he defended me, but my mind spirals with at the idea of failing them. All three of them.
When Anton is settled in the buggy and Livia is on my hip, clutching me to her so tight she’s almost strangling me, I press forward faster than usual.
By the time we reach the Marquesi’s home, I’m sweating from the little workout of carrying a twenty-six-pound child one-handed and pushing a buggy full of kids’ shit and yet another forty-pound child, also one-handed. This level of cardio hasn’t been on my to-do since… well, ever.
Yoga is very different.
Anton must feel more comfortable being at home because the moment we enter the living room, he doubles over and throws up all over himself and the herringbone hardwood floor.
“Shit.”
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Livia repeats after me and I groan, raising my eyes to the sky in a silent prayer for help.
The microsecond is all I allow myself before I sweep a crying Anton, vomit and all, and carry him into the bathroom. I call out for Livia to follow and she obeys, a wild look on her face and tears threatening to fall on her rosy cheeks.
Fuck, I don’t need this right now.
I deposit Anton in the shower and turn to his sister, my hands on her shoulders. “Livia, I need you to listen to me right now. Your brother isn’t feeling well, so I need to get him in the bath and to bed. I need you to be a big girl and help me. Can you do that for us?”
She sniffs but nods.
“Thank you,picculina.” I high five her, and the smile on her face is back. Relief washes over me. One kid down, one to go. “You can stay here, but you need to play by yourself for a moment, okay? Stay where I can see you and we’ll make a nice soup for Anton afterwards.”