What Ifs
Waking in the morning, Zorah noted Icaro, curled up on a small sofa in the corner of the room with a blanket over his legs. He looked quite uncomfortable, but she was grateful he hadn’t tried to get into the bed with her.
She rose from the bed and padded off to the bathroom, hoping her movements didn’t wake him. She was still not ready for talking. Zorah was hopeful she’d be able to get back into bed and stay there for the day. Wallowing in her misery felt like a good way to spend a Tuesday.
It was now a full week since her first date with Icaro and yet it seemed a lifetime ago. In the last several days, she’d felt everything from hope to despair, affection to lust and bravery to terror. What she wished mostly was to have a day where she felt normal.
Exiting the bathroom, the first thing she noted was Icaro was no longer on the sofa, but he wasn’t in the room either. She looked around nervously and then opted to get back into bed. She felt emotionally and physically drained.
She pulled the blankets over her head and wanted to complain about how bright the room was but there was nobody to hear her whining.
“Are you staying in bed all day today?” Icaro’s voice called out gently from the doorway, announcing to her she wasn’t really alone.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
Her head peeked out from under the blanket to look at him inquisitively. “Okay?”
“Yes. Okay. If you wish to spend a day in bed, go ahead. I’ve let the housekeeper know you’re awake. She’ll be bringing you breakfast shortly. My mother also asked me to relay to you she wants to come talk with you. She gave you space last night, but she would very much like to check on you.”
“I want to be alone.” She turned her eyes away again and sunk under the pillow.
“That’s fine. I’ll let her know. I’m going to head out to the barns and to check on the vegetable plots and follow-up with our head of staff.”
She nodded and then closed her eyes and hugged a pillow to her chest. She was startled when Icaro bent over her and kissed her cheek softly.
“I love you, Zorah.” He whispered in her ear. “Please don’t shut me out too long.”
She huffed with annoyance at his words.
“I’m going to give you today to yourself. You can stay in bed all day if you want. If you want to get up and get dressed and go for a walk around the farm, go ahead. I brought your suitcase in with articles of casual wear for here at the farm, jeans, t-shirts, and there are boots for you at the front entrance. You can come and go today around the property as you wish.”
“But I can’t leave?”
“I’d rather you didn’t. You’re welcome to walk anywhere on the farm and through the fields. Avoid the ram pen because they can be a bit ornery.”
“Fine,” she rolled away from him.
“Amoré, look at me,” he gave a sigh of exasperation. “I am giving you space today but I truly do not want to. I feel strongly we need to talk about what happened yesterday. Do not give me this attitude and make me regret backing away.”
“Gosh darn you are a self-absorbed ass,” she turned fiery eyes in his direction.
“There she is,” he whispered more to himself than anything.
“Get out!” she felt her chest huff with fury. “You deserve my anger. The way your entire family treated me yesterday was abysmal and horrible. Not one person offered me true compassion or comfort. Even your mother, who I do not,” she emphasized the word, “want to see today, made me feel small, insignificant and weak for being scared.”
He backed away from the bed, “I’ll come back, and we can talk when you are less agitated. I’d hope a few hours of sleep would put things into perspective but it’s clear it has not.”
“Go to hell,” she spat at him.
He started to walk out the door and he froze when she called his name. He turned to face her, hope on his features.
Lifting her chin, “in your two-hundred-and-fifty-year history of the Lucchesi men finding their special wives, have any of them been blessed with a second one?”
He frowned at the question, “what do you mean?”
“I mean, people die all the time. Have any of the wives died young, got sick or refused to be part of this insanity and the men were blessed with a second choice?”
He staggered backwards at her question, his face pale and his eyes pained, “Zorah, you promised to stop talking about dying,”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“The answer is no. We have one. It is called the one for a reason. There are no second chances.”
“What happens to the men in your family when their wives die?”
“They die.”
His firm and resolute answer surprised her. “They die?”
“Yes. Lucchesi men tend to die first, we do have a high-risk job, however for those of us unfortunate to outlive our wives, we tend to die within days.”
“If something happens to me then, you won’t get a second chance at a bride and it’s possible you’ll die.”
“Highly probable I would die but nothing will happen to you. You are going to live an exceptionally long life, Zorah.” His hand clenched the door frame as if for support, “please, my love, stop talking about such things. I cannot begin to explain to you how much it hurts to hear you talk of your life being over. My life would not be worth living without you.”
She rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling, “I wonder if there was a person in the nurse’s family who felt this way about her. I wonder if there is a person in her life, who right now, feels their life isn’t worth living because she is gone.”
“Oh Zorah,” his words were quiet as he followed her thoughts. “It is not the same.”
“Why is it not the same? Why does your love life hold more value than someone else’s? What makes you so special? What makes me so special?”
“Look,” he started to speak but she interrupted by yelling at him to get out. “Okay, I’m going. Just, please take the time and rest today.”
The heavy sound of his footsteps walking away echoed the heavy weight in Zorah’s heart.
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