Page 160 of Mafia And Maid
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The last few days since the funeral have been exhausting. I’m in the kitchen, doing the washing up. For someone who’s grieving, my mother seems to be throwing quite the event tonight.
“Hurry up, Rosa. We don’t have all night, and we’re running out of clean dishes.”
I wince at the sharp voice of my sister, and I can’t help the bitter thoughts from skittering through my mind.This is why my mother has staff. Why am I doing this?But that’s done nothing to stop my mother and sister from coming in every ten minutes with a new demand. As I scrub at a stubborn stain on a coffee cup, my mind wanders over what’s been said since the funeral...
“You should be thankful we’ve haven’t disowned you after what he did.”
“You can’t be thinking of leaving, surely? Mother needs your support while she’s grieving.”
“Well, if you really want to make up for what that thug did at the funeral...”
The porcelain cup clatters into the sink as I startle.
“Rosa! I heard a crash! Is everything okay?”
“Yes, i-it’s fine.”
“Those were a gift from your father!” My mother’s cry fills the kitchen as I wince. “You stupid girl! Do you know how hard it’ll be to replace it? How could you be so thoughtless?”
I swallow as my eyes drop to the ground. Her heavy sigh reminds me of when I was a child. One wrong step and I’d be met with a lecture about how no one would love me if I couldn’t do and say the right thing.
“I see some things haven’t changed,” she snaps. “See that it’s tidied up and replaced. I have guests to deal with.”
Sagging against the counter, I make a start on the next stack of cups.
After finishing all the dishes an hour later, I make my way up the stairs. Each step feels like I’m being dragged down, like overcoming a mountain with rocks attached to my ankles.
Softly, I open the door and scan the room for Ethan. His small body is engulfed by the blankets, the teddy bear brought by Camillo snuggled close.
My heart clenches. My phone sits on the nightstand, untouched. The text I sent Camillo after the funeral still remains unanswered. The small little check mark tells me he’s read it at least—read that Ethan and I have to stay here a little longer as my mother still needs me. The ache inside me as I stare at the phone, willing it to light up, is too pronounced, too physical as I rub at my sternum.
For days now, I’ve wanted to call him. To hear what happened at the funeral to cause him to act like that.To know if he’s okay. But that unanswered text has stopped me, and I don’t know how to fix this thing between us.
Whatever rift has grown between us is wedged in place. A short time away from him, and he’s probably realized he’s better off without such a mess up like me. So, despite the despair that shreds my insides, I flip my phone over.
There are a few texts from Juliana and Cate asking when we’ll be back and talking about setting up activities for Ethan to do with the other kids once we’ve returned. But I can’t answer them right now.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I curl up on the bed, careful not to disrupt Ethan. Hugging the pillow, I feel the emotions drag me under.
“How Grayden ever put up with you is beyond me.”
“How selfish can you be? Mother is grieving, Rosa, and you’re just worried about some thug.”
“Are you sure you want to have another piece of cheese? Everyone’s watching…”
The words swarm around me, each slicing against my skin until I’m bleeding raw. Every single one tearing away whatever armor I’ve built up over the last few months.
Of course, they’re right.
I am nothing.
Not to them. Not to Grayden. So, why would someone like Camillo see me differently?
Smothering a sob into the pillow, I press my face into it further.
The fantasy of what I thought I could have with him shatters into a million pieces before I can stop it. The foolish brief flicker of hope that Camillo would want me snuffs out like a precarious candle in a hurricane.