Chapter 15
One evening Evelyn gave me Matteo’s final letter.
She had kept it private until she decided I should have it.
Again.
Her decision.
Not mine.
Roman,
If you ever learn I survived, you’ll probably hate me for not coming back.
I stopped reading.
Evelyn waited.
I continued.
I wanted to take you with me.
I was afraid you would choose them.
Maybe that was unfair.
Maybe it was accurate then.
Both can be true.
My eyes blurred.
Typical Matteo.
He continued.
If I came back for you, Mother would know where we were. I had a wife and baby. I chose them.
I hope one day you understand without believing I loved you less.
I closed my eyes.
I did understand.
Now.
Too late for him.
Not too late for Maisie.
The final paragraph:
If you ever have a child, never make them prove loyalty to you by rejecting someone else they love.
That was the family disease in one sentence.
Choose branch.
Choose parent.
Choose blood.
Choose tradition.
Love as a test.
I folded the letter.
Evelyn asked:
“You okay?”
“No.”
She nodded.
Good.
Bellaro men and Valenti women apparently shared appreciation for accurate answers.
I looked at her.
“He loved you.”
“I know.”
“He loved me too.”
“I know.”
For twenty years, Lorraine’s story made those loves incompatible.
They never were.
Matteo chose responsibility to his daughter.
That was not rejection of me.
Understanding that released something I had carried since twenty-two.
I went home.
Maisie was asleep wearing the oversized sunglasses on top of her head because children turn trauma props into costumes whenever adults stop assigning meaning.
I took them off gently.
Placed them on the nightstand.
Then sat beside her until she rolled toward me.
No loyalty test.
May you like
No family lesson.
Just my daughter sleeping.
