“So I should abandon him? Just run away?”
Her expression is crimped. She hears the accusation. Her eyes slip.
“No matter what you do,” she says, “nobody’s ever been able to control Simon. Nobody’s ever been able to change his mind. If he wants to lose this trial—”
I rise from my chair. “We’re not having this conversation.”
But for the first time since her return, she won’t bow and scrape. “There is only one life in your hands, Alex. And it’s his.” She points toward the bedroom. “But you’ve filled his head with stories about two people he never sees. You’ve let him believe that the two most important people in his life are never around. Even though the most important person in his life is always around.”
“Mona,” I say, “I have a chance to give Simon his life back. I owe him that.”
Her lip curls. “You don’t.”
But she doesn’t understand. “No matter what happens to me,” I say, “I’ll still have Peter. If he loses his priesthood, he’ll have nothing.”
She’s about to say something awful, but I won’t give her the chance.
“When I’m done tomorrow,” I tell her, “there are going to be consequences. One of them may be that Peter and I can’t stay here anymore.”
She starts to ask why, but I push on.
“Before anything like that happens, it’s important to me that I be honest with you. Ever since you left, there’s nothing I’ve wanted more than to get our family back together.”
She’s already shaking her head, trying to rewind the tape, trying to make this stop.
“I used to dream about the three of us,” I say, “living in this apartment. I wanted that more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”
Suddenly she begins to cry. I have to look away.
“But when you came back,” I say, “everything had changed. It’s nothing you did wrong. You did everything right. I love you. I always will. But everything else has changed.”
She is staring up at the ceiling, trying to dry her eyes. “You don’t owe me an explanation. You don’t owe me anything.” Her eyes come down, settling on mine. “But I’m begging you. Put yourself and Peter first. Just once. Forget about Simon. You’ve worked so hard to give Peter a good, happy life here. Whatever you’re about to do, remember that this place is his whole world.”
I love her for these words. For this fierce defense of her husband and son. But I can’t take much more of it. I need to finish this.
“Mona, I don’t know where Peter and I will live if we have to move. All I know is, we would be somewhere outside the walls.” I hesitate. “And if you wanted, you could join us.”
She stares at me in silence.
“I’m not asking what your plans are,” I say. “But I realized, tonight, what mine are. I want my family together.”
She reaches over and folds her arms around me. She begins to sob, digging her fingers into my skin.
“Don’t answer me,” I say. “Not tonight. Wait until you’re sure.”
She tightens her grip. I close my eyes and hold her.
It’s done.
I have loved this life. In the future, whatever it may hold, I will stare up at the walls of this country and thank God for the years He gave me inside them. As a child, I watched the sun rise over Rome. As a man, I will watch it set over Saint Peter’s.