Don’t be nosy, I tell myself. But I am nosy. Might as well embrace it.
I lift up the bottle and peer at it. It’s a nearly full bottle of blue pills—Zoloft prescribed to Desiderio Larosa. The date it was issued was eighteen months ago. He hasn’t been taking them at all.
I sigh and put it back, feeling all sorts of frustrated. I bring out the water and the painkillers and put it on his bedside table.
“Derio,” I say softly. He is breathing deeply and doesn’t stir. He looks so beautiful and vulnerable when he’s sleeping, I can see why people creep on people at night. His lips are pressed together into a near pout, his forehead smooth of the usual lines and furrows. A strand of hair falls across his temple and I resist the urge to brush it out of the way. Knowing my luck he’d spring to life screaming, “Non mi toccarei!”
But still, I stand there, studying him, taking him all in without fear of being caught. I wonder what it would be like to kiss him. If he would care, if he would react. I wonder if he would ever let himself go or if he’s shut down forever. I told the kids that he was stronger than they thought. I don’t want to be wrong about that.
Eventually I leave his side, only to return later with a blanket and pillow and wearing the T-shirt and shorts that I sleep in. I move over to the couch in the sitting area of his bedroom and settle down for the night. I don’t think he’s going to die in his sleep but something is compelling me to stay by his side.
CHAPTER NINE
“Amber, where is Derio?” Annabella asks me as I give her and Alfonso their juice. They’re sitting around the breakfast nook table and I’m trying to figure out what to give them to eat. They have to be off for school in ten minutes and they’re half dressed and hungry.
“He’s sleeping,” I tell her, trying to slice a loaf of hard bread without cutting off my fingers.
“It’s late,” she notes in a discerning tone.
“Yes, it is. He’ll be up when you get back from school.”
“Are you going to take us?” Alfonso asks.
“Yes, I will, if you hurry up and eat and get ready,” I say as I throw down two slices of jaggedly cut bread in front of them. They stare down at the bread and then back up at me with confused faces.
“Eat it,” I tell them. Then I roll my eyes and quickly grab a jar of Nutella from the cupboard and put it beside them. “There.”
The twins exchange a look. Alfonso mutters under his breath, “Mi manca Felisa.”
“Yeah, well, I miss her, too,” I say.
Soon I’m hustling the twins out the door and taking them to their school. It’s only when they disappear into the building that I nearly collapse. I lean back against the stone wall and decide to grab a coffee at one of the outdoor tables that line the Piazzetta.
It’s quiet this early in the morning and the sun is casting long shadows across the square. A few other people, mainly older local men with slicked-back gray hair reading the newspaper, are scattered about, and a few pigeons dart underneath the tables looking for pastry crumbs. I pick a small table near the church tower and the charming waiter brings me a cappuccino, which I drink so fast I have to order another. And then another. I’m more exhausted than I thought.
I barely slept at all last night. The couch was pretty comfortable but I was forever conscious that I was sleeping in the same room as Derio. Then he started having his night terrors. Holy bejesus, did that scare the shit out of me. He wasn’t as loud as he has been before, but his cries of anguish were so painful to hear. I don’t know how he makes it through each night, let alone the twins.
I even got up and went to his side, just in case. I don’t know what I expected to happen but I wanted nothing more than to wake him up and comfort him.
When he started calling out softly for his mother, I could hear the heartbreak in his voice. It undid me, cutting me to the marrow, and I couldn’t go back to bed after that. There was just too much sorrow in this house.
“Amber?”
I look around me, startled that someone could know my name, and see Shay and some dude walking across the square toward me.
“Oh hey,” I say, gesturing to the seats at my table. “Sit down. How are you?”
“Good,” Shay says. She looks stunning, even in the morning, and I kind of hate her. My hair is pulled back into a frizzy bun and I don’t have any makeup on at all. Thank God for sunglasses. “What happened to your head?” She leans forward, peering at my temple.
I forgot I had the bandage there. “Oh, nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
She frowns at me for a moment and then waves her hand at the boy beside her. “This is Danny, by the way.”