You see, there are these apps where anybody can write books, stories and the sort and one day, scrolling the FB (which I don't usually do but I kill time with it on occasions) my eyes fell on a title that made me scoff.
The title, 'Mafia in Love'...
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I couldn't understand why Grandpa brought me an option to live even further away from here since everything he had done since I came to Italy was to make me go back to the States or at least, back to Raffa.
And since I told him that I was carrying Raffa's child, he kept advocating for Raffa almost every day.
Then why did he come with Lucia Capozzi here? And most importantly, does he know about her proposition?
I have to admit it is tempting. I would be back in the States, have my baby, and then I could start practicing what've studied, for real this time.
And most importantly, my child and I would live far from Sicily, from the rivalry and backstabbing and killing and the forever looking over our shoulders.
Now, don't think I'm stupid, Papa would never accept that I live anywhere on earth without guards, but at least it is not Sicily, an open-air golden cage from us, the women of the Mafia.
If you think these questions in my mind have taken the entire night away from me, well, you are wrong.
It felt like seconds before my brain simply shut down and any thoughts, good or bad, were completely isolated from the comfort of my sleep.
Lately, I'm capable of sleeping even standing, if you can imagine. My sweet bun of joy growing in my womb needs rest and good food. And that's what I'm doing.
Especially tonight since tomorrow we have that silly reception to attend. Papa says it is important, mainly for me. His eyes sparkled when he said that, and I had no doubts it was about Raffa.
He is going to be there, I'm sure of it.
I miss him...
I miss him like there is no tomorrow and my heart jolts with gratitude and excitement just at the thought of being with him in the same room.
Grandpa Lucas will surely not like my departure to the States and I guess Papa will also disagree.
How do I manage to always do the very exact most unpopular thing? It's like a new world against me gets birth each time I have important decisions to make for myself.
And yet, I always take those decisions and this time it won't be any different. This time it's not only for myself, but for my child, and I would do anything for my child.
"Good morning, sweetheart. How did you sleep?" Aunt Feli cheerfully asks when I show up in the kitchen, rather closer to noon than the morning.
"Very good. I'm going to miss mornings with you," I say and hug her dearly.
When I was a child Aunt Feli looked like a tall, chubby woman, with a round face, always red cheeks, and strong arms grabbing me and lifting me to her chest. Now, I can hardly feel her in my arms curled around her neck in a long hug.
