Out of Control
Enrico
I still couldn't believe that my mother was alive and yet, throughout all these years, she had never tried to find me. It was completely incomprehensible to me, considering that I didn't know about her, but Dorothy Bianchi knew about the son she left behind when she chose to leave with another man.
I remembered the photos of her in my room and how I practically idolized her, believing all these years that she had passed away, when in fact, the woman I idolized had abandoned me, making me feel like a complete idiot. Now she was back, but I had no intention of allowing her to try to change everything I was thinking about her at that moment. It had been almost thirty years of abandonment, without a single piece of news or attempt to find out anything about her son.
To be honest with myself, Dorothy had chosen a terrible moment to return, just when I was dealing with a complicated situation involving Rachel. Well, it wasn't a complicated situation, I corrected myself immediately. I had no doubts about the truth, but still, I didn't want to just leave Rachel out on the street. As much as the rational side said I had no relation to her pregnancy, I felt vulnerable because of everything that had happened to her.
I looked at my father, a man full of flaws, like anyone, including myself. He had never seriously committed to anyone, and even his occasional affairs were discreet and short-lived. Until that moment, I had always believed it was due to his rough temperament and coarse attitude.
Now, however, I wondered if the reason Joseph hadn't moved on with his life was some hope he held related to my mother. Did he expect her to return one day? And was she doing exactly that now, returning to Seattle? There were so many unanswered questions!
"How did she know where to find you?" I asked as I paced anxiously back and forth in the room.
"She followed you from afar all these years, and it was easy to find your address in Seattle, Enrico."
Well, there was no arguing with that statement. However, that didn't mean I wasn't extremely upset about her coming to find me, as my father was explaining to me now.
“She was here, and yet I'm only just being informed," I pointed out, with a tone of veiled accusation.
“This happened this morning, while you were at the hotel," Joseph emphasized again. “Anyway, I thought I'd better talk to Dorothy first, since there was so much to talk about. After all, it's been twenty-six years.”
“And what made her do it after all this time? Because it's quite clear that there's something behind her sudden attitude.”
Joseph explained that the relationship between Dorothy and the pilot was a back-and-forth relationship that only lasted a short time. Too ashamed to return to Seattle and look for her family, she decided to stay in Italy, where she ended up getting involved with another man, with whom she had a relationship until a few months ago. And now she had decided to go back to Seattle and look for them.
Knowing that the man who motivated my mother to leave was a Formula One driver made me very curious, but I had no interest in knowing who this man was, after all, it wouldn't make any difference to my life.
“Dorothy is ill and wants to ask us to forgive her before..." my father began, but the news hit me like a punch.
My mother was sick enough to believe that she was going to... die? I had to sit down. Finding out that the woman who gave birth to me had been alive all this time, living in Italy and living next door to another man, who wasn't even the one she left us for, was now about to die, wasn't easy at all.
Before I could even process this information, I heard footsteps in the hallway and soon Rachel, pale and visibly haggard, entered the living room accompanied by Ryan and Lindsay.
I wasn't prepared to see her at that moment when I felt so stripped of my defenses and she was so vulnerable.
"Hello," Lindsay said uncertainly, looking from me to Joseph. “Are you all right?”
No, I wasn't okay at all. However, Lindsay didn't deserve that answer at that moment. Even though I wanted to be strong and not give in to the influence of Rachel, who was silent but whose eyes were pleading with me, I found myself walking over to where she was and facing her. I was filled with worry and my emotions were out of control.
“How are you?” I asked in a hoarse voice.
Rachel looked at me intently for a few seconds, as if she could see into my soul. With just that look, she seemed to understand that I was not okay at that moment.
"I'll be okay," she replied, but her eyes welled up with a frightening intensity.
I couldn't resist. I wasn't in my normal state, and before I realized what I was about to do, I was holding Rachel in my arms.
"I'll take you to your room," I announced, despite her startled sigh.
I walked upstairs with Rachel in my arms, disregarding the stunned looks from everyone in the living room and offering no explanation. How could I explain when I couldn't even understand what I was doing myself?
"You're crazy," Rachel pointed out with a weak smile.
"I do feel a little crazy," I tried to joke.
I took her to the room Joseph had instructed the maid to clean and air out before Rachel's arrival. As I entered, I laid her down on the neatly made bed.
"Stay," she pleaded as she saw me heading towards the door.
"I wasn't planning on leaving," I clarified with a humorless smile.
I closed the door and, after taking off my shoes and drawing the curtains, I lay down beside Rachel on the bed, facing each other.
"What happened to you?" she asked, furrowing her brow. "You don't seem okay at all, and don't bother saying nothing happened because I've never seen you like this, so out of control."
"I'm not okay," I admitted. "But we need to talk, and I think it's better to do it now."
"I don't want to talk about anything right now," she said in a deeply sad tone, visibly trying to hold back tears that seemed ready to spill from her eyes at any moment.
Rachel was sensitive, which was understandable given her loss. Although I wasn't the father of her children, I felt her pain too, and this wasn't the right time to discuss things that would only bring more suffering.
"I don't want to talk either," I admitted, drawing closer to Rachel.
My hands pulled her into an embrace, her head fitting perfectly against the curve of my neck, while her hands held onto me as well.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
