Page 165 of Mafia And Maid
“I’ll be waiting with my car outside the house.”
“No, Camillo. I want you to come inside.”
There’s a stunned silence from his end.
“Camillo?”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life. I want everyone to see the man I’m with—the man I’m proud to have at my side.” And for the first time ever, I toss aside what my family might think. I’m doing this for me.For me, Camillo, and Ethan.
“I’ll…be there, baby.” His voice breaks, and I feel myself tearing up at the thought of seeing him soon.
After hanging up, I shoot a grin at Ethan. “Come on, we’ve got to pack…”
***
When it’s time for the luncheon, I make my way downstairs with Ethan and lift my chin as I enter the garden.
Nerves threaten to make me hurl the tiny amount of food I ate earlier. I’ve been feeling weak, dizzy, and downright terrible. And I know I can’t go on like this. I have to get my eating issues under control again. For me, and for Ethan—so that I can be a good mom to him.
It’s now or never. My feet freeze on the patio for a second. Doubt tugs me under.
But Camillo’s words block them all out like some bullet proof shield. If I don’t do this now, I’ll never do it.
As soon as my mother sees me, she marches up. “What are you wearing?”
“You told me to change.”
“Yes, but…” An approaching guest means there’s no time for her to finish what she was about to say.
My hand smooths down the front of Camillo’s black T-shirt which I’m wearing with a belt and over a pair of capri pants Juliana helped me pick out. It hugs my body and curves, yet it’s smart and classy.
For the first time since I arrived here, I feel powerful and in control. I don’t risk losing my nerve as I turn on my heel. If I let her jump in, she’ll tear me down.
I find my place on the seating plan and find a spare chair to pull up beside me. We’re sitting in the corner of the garden, practically hidden by the large plants surrounding us. I really don’t understand why my mother even wants me here if she's determined to keep me as out of sight as possible. But I know the answer—she wants me here in case she needs to quash any potential rumors that I’ve returned to my maid job.
Over the luncheon, not a single person has said a bad thing about my outfit. A few of the younger ladies even compliment me—although it’s to the tutting disapproval of a couple of the older ones. But for once, I brush off the negative comments and let myself focus on the positive ones. That’s the sort of people I want to surround myself with—people who are kind and encouraging. And as I do this, I keep on repeating to myself the messages that I’ve learned in therapy.
The therapist talked to me about cognitive restructuring through addressing my negative core beliefs. She said that I should build my self-esteem by broadening my definition of self-worth to include non-appearance factors like my achievements, skills, and moral values.I’ve learned so many other things from her as well, and I need to get back to focusing on those techniques.
And I need to get back to surrounding myself with people who will help me in this journey. Because that’s what it is—a journey. Things aren’t going to change for me overnight or at the click of my fingers. But to be strong enough to make this journey, I have to take these first steps.
I look down at my empty plate where a few crumbs from the finger sandwiches I’d nibbled on remain. Pride over something so small and insignificant rushes through me like a bullet. It’s more than just defying my mother or eating something small. It feels like the chains that are strapping me down have loosened just a tiny bit.
It's not fixed. I’m not fixed. But it’s Camillo’s voice in my head that pushes me on. That leads me through the darkness.
At 4 p.m. on the dot, I see Camillo arrive and walk over to me.
And a small smile spreads across my lips, unable to be contained. Because he’s the man I’ve been waiting for my whole life...
CHAPTER 43
CAMILLO
FOUR HOURS EARLIER
“What’s so interesting on your phone, Millo?” Marco asks.