I can't believe reading that journal made me want to genuinely apologize to him. His clearly parents didn't care about him. The only person who understood him was his brother. He was younger, and off at boarding school in Italy. Vincenzo was as alone as he said he was.
Exactly how far does someone have to be pushed to write several suicide notes? Why did he even save them? Why did he write about every time he tried to kill himself, then berate himself for not being able to follow through?
It was fucking heavy as hell.
"Hey, Martin," I called to him as I saw him walking past Vincenzo's room.
"Hey Rocco, what's up?" He asked momentarily stopping.
"I think Vincenzo is going to commit suicide," Martin looked at me with wide eyes and I told him the gist of the things I had just read and why I felt the way I did.
"I don't think you're wrong," Martin whispered. Since most of his words were choked up in his throat.
"No dude you're supposed to tell me I'm wrong, that I don't know Vincenzo that well and that he won't do this. Tell me that Vincenzo is always like this, or it's only a phase," I moaned like I had a headache and ran my hands in my hair.
"Last time I checked you wanted some kind of revenge on him so he would know his place and now you want him to not commit suicide even though I warned you not to get involved with him because he's mentally unstable?" Martin pointed out. I took a deep breath. "I warned you not to play with him but you just keep on playing with him."
"I know, but Martin, I-I think....i was very wrong," I admitted. As much as I wanted to feel superior all the time, taking a life wouldn't help that feeling. "What will we do to stop him? He's just accepting everything bad that happens like he's given up, so that makes it ten times harder." I wondered out loud.
"I don't know." Martin said. "That's really for his therapist to figure out with him. I've only been quiet because you seem to be helping him out in someway. Did something happen today?"
I couldn't fuck up my sisters relationship with Martin, so I had to keep quiet about it. Sofia knew nothing of the past between Vincenzo and that Danny kid, and to let Martin know that I sent my sister after him would probably be....well i guess a shit show.
I fucked up.
"Nothing happened, I'm just worried."
"Well it can't be all bad. He's at least showering every three days now instead of once a week, and he cleaned his room. Maybe he's getting better," Martin assured me. "Just find a way to help him feel better. As long as nothing too stimulating happens, he should be fine. If it gets really concerning, let me know."
It hurt when I tried to swallow the spit in my mouth as the realization that I was just helping push Vincenzo closer to the edge. All those times he'd look bored while doing things, as if he were just going through the motions, I blamed it on his lingering attachments. There was no real emotion, no real passion, no real spunk, and I just brushed it off. I just expected him to be strong and didn't listen to any warning I had received about him.
Reading this journal made it clear that it felt like he felt like he had no purpose in this life. That he was ready to go at anytime. I stupidly believed him when he said it was fine even when he obviously wasn't! I relieved that he kept taking the blame for everything I got mad about because he was just a pushover. I even believed him when he said all the bad things was everything he had coming to him. It made me feel like an idiot, because I was usually very good at distinguishing truth from lies as I was a big liar myself.
The more I read through this journal, the darker it became.
The rain. Forever falling on me. Can't stop it.
The cloud. It follows me. The cloud of darkness
that won't leave me. The one over me. It won't
go. It's been there forever. The rain that has
fallen from the clouds drowns me in a river. A
river, which is mingled with the tears, I have
shed. The tears. Those tears that have been
washed away in my river of despair. The pain,
despair, anger, hurt, betrayal. These things I
have come to rely on. The blood. The knife edge.
The death of me. I can live in peace away from
the world and embrace death. I die with the salt
tasting tears on my lips and the crimson blood
down my wrists.
I will be free.
He could even be extremely poetic about this shit! Not many....well actually no one seemed to know the extent of his pain. It was like the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Three stupid words. Stupid, stupid, words. How
appropriate that my name is two of them.
Stupid words. Stupid name. Stupid me.
Everything went wrong. Everything went so
wrong. Because I can't do anything right, but we
already knew that so I don't know why anyone
was surprised.
And I'm back here now. Writing a suicide note
to myself. MY suicide note this time.
To myself. How pathetic.
Who else could I write it to? I don't have anyone
who cares about me. Not anymore. I messed
that one up.
None of this would have happened if I had just
gotten it right the first time. Instead, all I ended
up with was a broken dream. If I didn't have a
broken mindset,none of this would have
happened.
I'm just one big failure.
I wish I could tell everyone how sorry I am. But I
can't. Because who would ever believe that.
But I am. I am sorry.
The Cunningham's were a great family. They
were so open and welcoming and treated me as
one of their own. I took advantage of them. I
didn't mean to. I just wanted a family. A real
family that did family things.
If I'm dead then maybe the buzzing in my brain
will stop. And my hands will stop shaking, even
though they had stopped for a while, but it's back
again and it's worse because instead of being
used to the pain again, the therapy isn't working
right probably because I'm not doing it right.
Maybe my heart will stop hurting so bad. And
everyone will finally know just how defective I
am, but that's okay because at least I won't be
around to see all the disappointment that I know
will be there. I won't have to see all the hate and
the looks and the anger and everything I can't
deal with!
Please don't bother my parents with the body. I
just hope they can continue their life normally
and happily as I was able to successfully get rid of
their biggest mistake in their life. To whoever
finds this note, I am very sorry you have to see
me like this, it's nobody fault but my own,
whoever reads this please don't blame yourself.
This is a good thing that happened.
Emotions stirred inside me, dark, painful emotions, like knives plunging into my stomach. My mind felt branded with anger, an anger i could not bear inside me, yet I could not release it. He felt like he had no friends, the person who took care of him finally cut him off for good, his parents abandoned him after ruining him, he hated being alive....all his problems couldn't be easy to hold onto, even if he caused some of the problems himself.
He had been a lonely child, and that lack of bonds had followed him into later life. He didn't seem to mind.....but to read it on paper put a new life to it....it was strange.
And it didn't fit.
"Hey," I heard Vincenzo's voice. I immediately felt even more guilty than I originally did because I knew he wouldn't get mad at me for reading his journal and invading his privacy.
"I'm sorry," i whispered. I'm so selfish that I didn't even notice how much pain you were actually in. I never would've approached you if I knew about all this. "That was rude of me and I apologize."
"Rocco, it's ok. There are things I need to hear, it's been three days since I last showered, I did stink."
"No, it's not ok. It was awful of me and I could've said it better. It's just...I really....didnt think things were this bad for you," I paused, just to remind myself that he'll literally accept any criticism as true and try to justify it. "I'm sorry."
He pulled me into a passionate kiss, probably to shut me up and avoid talking about everything I had just read. He was good at what he did, the kiss was really good.
"I'm getting better, Rocco. You make me better. This is all new to me, wanting to be with someone....and just try to be happy. I'm...I'm just not quite sure what it means yet, but I'll do my best for you."
Fuck! I fucked up! "Vincenzo, you're already doing a great job," I told him sincerely. I plan on taking the time and putting in the effort to let him know that he is wanted....alive. There's nothing more I wanted than to correct this messed up order I've gone about things. "I like you how you are and I mean it."
"Those entries aren't that recent, Rocco."
"I'm not just saying it because I read the journal. I do mean it," I turned my head a bit so he couldn't try and shut me up. "I can prove it too."
"Mmm, I like your thinking." Grinning, he turned my head back to his and kissed me, soft and sweet and leisurely, sweeping his lips across mine in barely there touches. Tilting my head, I deepened the kiss, wrapping my arms tight around his neck and running my fingers through his hair. As his taste flooded my mouth, his scent filled my lungs, completing me in a way I never knew existed. His arms stayed around my waist, gripping hard and pushing his hardening member into mine.
"Prove it to me, tesoro mio," he rasped, heated breath washing over my lips as he pushed his weight on top of me until I rested against the bed. Moving his mouth down my neck, he proceeded to unbutton my shirt, his lips pressing softly to each newly exposed area. My hands were in his hair, pushing it away from his face so I could see him as he lavished attention to my chest and abdomen.
Suddenly he flipped me over and wet, sucking kisses were placed to the back of my neck as he pushed the shirt from shoulders, the same breeze that had been too chilly a few minutes before was now welcomed to my over heated skin. The fire of his lips made a trail over my back, from each shoulder to in between my shoulder blades, down the knots of my spine to the sensitive skin right above the waist of my slacks. Resting my palms against the marble ledge, I arched my back and dropped my head forward, already panting as I ached from the attention I was receiving. I felt his arms come back around my waist, fumbling with the buckle of my belt and then the button and zipper on my pants. He wasted no time, immediately pushing them off my hips until they pooled around my ankles. Gripping the back of my thigh in his hand, he lifted one leg and then the other, kicking my pants to the side along with my discarded shirt.
"Damn," he exclaimed, pushing his jean covered bulge against my bare ass, "so fucking beautiful."
It was an odd feeling, the vulnerability of being completely stripped and exposed while he was still fully dressed. I liked it, I liked feeling like I was at his mercy, for once. At least this way I was sure he was completely focused on me. His lips were on the back of my neck again; his panting breaths sounded so hot in my ears as his hips thrust harder into me. Pushing back, I enjoyed the way his forehead dropped to my shoulder and his fingers tightened on my hips.
"I want to love you, Rocco," It was desperate, it was needy, it was everything I wanted it to be and more.
Whimpering, I begged, "You can. Right here."
"Don't move," he ordered, his fingertips gliding down my back before I heard him shift back on the bed. Breathing heavily, I tried to regain a little composure, certain that I would come so quickly that it would be over before it even had really begun. Vincenzo didn't give me much time to do that, however, because almost as quick as he had left, he was back, his bare chest pressing into my back as his hand reached around to grab my dick.
"I'm going to make this as good as I can for you," he promised in a low voice, stroking me gently. "I want you to feel the most pleasure because you deserve the best," he motioned with his head.
My heart raced with the suggestion -so sweet and sexy at the same time. It's all felt like the first night again.
"Im going to make by it feel so good that you'll never want to break up again."
"Fuck...yes." I braced my hands on the bed frame for support as I arched my back and jut my ass out in an invitation I knew he couldn't resist. His hand left my dick and I heard the familiar clicking sound of the lube being opened then his slick fingers circling my entrance. Slipping one inside, he teased me, giving me only an inch before pulling back and doing it again, going a little deeper each time. When he hit my prostate, a bolt of pleasure shot down my spine and instantly pushed back, silently begging for more. Eventually, he moved to two fingers and then three, preparing me slowly and stretching me, dragging out the process.
"Fuck, you look so hot right now," he exclaimed, slapping my ass lightly with his free hand. "God, you're the sexiest thing on this earth."
I felt like I was literally going to hyperventilate, my chest rising and falling so fucking rapidly, I actually felt dizzy. "Dio Mio, Vinny....please," I begged, pushing my ass into his hand to get his fingers deeper. I heard his breathy chuckle before his touch disappeared and I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, I felt the blunt head of his dick pushing against my entrance and I arched my back further, groaning at the delicious burn as he easily slid into me. Once he was fully inside, he ran one hand up my back to my neck and placed the other on my hip, gripping tightly as he pulled out a fraction and rocked forward again.
Grasping a handful of my hair, he forced my head back and growled into my ear, "So fucking good, Roc. Gets better and better every time."
"So good, so, so good. God, Vinny, Forza, veloci, veloci, forza, qui," I pleaded, too worked up to take it slow and easy. Pulling back, he stilled with just the head inside me, letting me clench around him in anticipation. Slowly, he filled me again, the pleasurable ache from the stretch making me shiver and pant harshly. Picking up speed, he set a steady rhythm, sliding his hand up from my hip to tease and tug my hardened nipples. His other hand cupped the back of my neck, using it for leverage to pull my body backwards to meet his every thrust. The slapping of flesh rang through the air every time our hips met, drowning out the loud sounds of the people on the street outside and the whistling howl of the wind.
"You feel so fucking good," he mumbled, his lips on my neck, my skin between his teeth. "I like fucking you, Rocco, so, so much. I want to make you come so hard that you can never forget me."
His words were quickly pushing me to orgasm, overloading all of my senses with everything that was Vincenzo.
"Più forte, più forte, bene," I growled, clawing in vain at the bed post as I got closer to release, and it felt fucking delicious and erotic. It was wanton and wild, passionate and intense. I was letting myself go, accepting physical pleasure openly, literally for him to see, and it was the most amazing feeling in the world. One I could easily become addicted to.
"Fucking hell, Roc," Moving his hand from my neck, he reached around and grasped me tightly, no longer bothering with the steady pace, he began pounding me relentlessly as he stroked me and twisted my nipples.
"Avrò finito," I warned, hoping that he was close too because I wasn't sure I could hold out for much longer.
It was too much; the fantastic turn around of the dat, thoughts of him apologizing to me and begging for my forgiveness, his admittance of feeling something toward me as I did for him, learning more about his mental state...
All of it. Everything. Him.
I couldn't take it anymore.
"Vinny, don't stop. I'm coming."
My roar of completion echoed through the room as spurt after spurt left my body, landing somewhere on the bed, waves of pleasure wracked me so intensely I was sure my knees would buckle. His euphoric cry was drowned out by my own but the way he twitched hard inside of me only prolonged my orgasm, draining me completely.
Collapsing against my back, he wrapped his arms tight around my torso and kissed my shoulder and neck repeatedly, murmuring, "Thank you...so good...amazing...never knew..."
He made no sense.
I knew exactly what he meant though.
When he softened up and slipped from me, I shakily turned around and crushed him to me, kissing him hard even as I swayed with exhaustion. Letting his body support me, I leaned into him, my fingers fisting his hair as my mouth fused to his.
Don't let it end, don't let it end...
"Come on, Roc, let's get you cleaned up," he whispered affectionately.
I don't remember walking to the bathroom, or getting cleaned up, but I do remember the way he arms felt as they cradled me to his chest, the way his husky voice whispered 'voglio stare sempre con te!' in my ear, and the sweet, lingering kiss that was placed on my lips before sleep quickly claimed me.
My dreams felt really good, though I can't remember what I dreamed about. Something was disturbing me though, whispering in my ear and touching the bare skin of my back, trying to pull me out of the blissful sleep I was in. I was comfortable, warm and happy, wrapped tightly in Vincenzo's arms and I didn't ever want to wake up. Waking up meant that it was the next day and he would have to leave me soon. I wasn't ready for that yet.
But it was persistent! Doing everything it could to pull me out of my slumber when I was so desperate to stay there.
"Please...need you, Roc...have to...come on...wake up...won't do it if you're sleeping."
Broken phrases and heavy breathing surrounded me but I fought against them, squeezing my eyes shut, determined not to face the new day. When I felt strong fingers grip my hips tightly, I realized that it wasn't just something that had been trying to wake me, it had been Vincenzo himself. Opening my eyes, I squinted against the bright sunlight that was shining through the small opening of the curtains, purposely avoided looking at the clock on the table.
I didn't want to see our minutes together ticking away beyond my control.
"Wake up, please. Need you, Rocco," he begged desperately, and I felt his hard piece sliding between my thighs. His lips found my neck, licking and sucking, biting kisses all over the tender skin before moving to my shoulder and stopping as he panted heavily against my bare skin.
Then I remembered what I had asked him for and got super excited that it was finally happening.
He's waking me up with sex!
"Then take me," I rasped, my voice raw from sleeping and my pleasured screams from the night before.
"Oh, thank God," he moaned and I felt the bed dip as he rolled away from me. Almost immediately, he was back behind me and I heard the familiar click of the lube bottle. Lifting my leg, I rolled forward a bit, shifting so that I was spread for him and his fingers began teasing my entrance.
I sighed as one digit slipped easily inside, my body still relatively open from our activities just a few hours before. Quickly, a second finger joined the first, pumping swiftly and impatiently as I pushed back into his hand. As incredible as his touch felt, I battled on whether or not to let it continue. Having another round of sex was definitely high on my priority list, it would get me through the long talk ahead of us, but I also wanted to spend time with him, like we had the day before, just him and I talking and getting to know one another.
When I felt his fingers leave me, my heart raced knowing they would soon be replaced by him. Only seconds later, I felt his hand on the inside of my thigh, lifting it as he positioned himself at my entrance. As I felt him push, as he began to fill me, I decided that talking could wait until later. I felt the soft wisps of his hair brushing the back of my shoulders as he left kisses over my heated skin. Shivering, I reached an arm up behind me and let my fingers tangle in his waves, pulling him to me as I turned my head toward him. With parted lips, I captured his in an urgent need to taste him. Even with him filling me, holding me, it seemed I could never get enough of him.
"Mmmm," he moaned into the kiss as he began thrusting in earnest in and out of me. "So fucking good," he mumbled as he broke the kiss and laid his forehead to my cheek, his panting breaths caressing my face with each effort of his hips. We hadn't been together many times, but I could already tell when he was close, the way his breath hitched, the way his eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open, the way his hips jerked with no rhythm.
"Touch yourself," he gasped.
Releasing his hair, my hand traveled down my chest, stopping to jerk myself off. Behind me, he groaned and shifted his weight so he could watch me, keeping me tightly to him with one arm trapped between my body and the mattress.
"Fuck," he whispered as my hand reached its destination and began stroking. With each heavy breath he left on my face and shoulders, I stroked faster. His hips never ceasing as he watched me, his eyes half-lidded and dark. Unable to keep my own open, I let them drift closed and let myself just feel him...everywhere. Thrusting into me, he began grazing my prostate and I felt the warmth stir. Instinctively, my hand slowed, I didn't want to come yet, I wanted it to last longer.
But my efforts were to no avail, his talented piece encouraged the warmth to spread, my hand quickened, and my balls began to tighten. He crushed me to him, his mouth at my ear as he took my lobe between his lips.
"Sei molto sensibile quando ti tocco," he murmured around the flesh. Quick, shallow breaths mixed with grunts escaped me as my orgasm hit me, long bursts of fluids shooting from me onto my hand and stomach as the muscles of my ass clenched around him, bringing on his own climax. Still in the midst of my own passion, the ecstasy gradually ebbing through me, I felt his fingers dig into the inside of my thigh as his body tensed and contracted with each wave that hit him. Inside me, he twitched and jerked while his hips bucked against me and the pleasure seemed to flow endlessly through him. We lay like that for a few minutes, dirty hand still gripping my dick, and his still inside me. He had let my leg down and had wrapped his arm around my waist. With a small sigh he kissed my neck as he pulled his hips back slowly, pulling out from inside me. Holding me for another second or two before letting me go, he stripped the condom off and got off the bed. When he returned only a minute later, I still hadn't moved, and when I felt his hand on my shoulder, pressing me to roll onto my back, I resisted.
Perhaps if I lay still enough, I could stop time.
It was childish, immature, and yet at the same time, so very me. I hadn't done it since I was a child, but there had been very few times where I had been so happy that I never wanted the feeling to end. I would close my eyes as tightly as possible and stay as motionless as I could, even to the point of holding my breath, imagining myself a statue of marble and stone, time passing around me while I remained in the cocoon of the happiness.
It had never worked.
Something always pulled me from the stillness, forcing me to face that time was moving, that things were going to change. Like the fact that I hadn't gone home yesterday and neglected telling anyone where I was. My parents were absolutely going to kill me when I arrived.
Giving into Vincenzo, I let him turn me and I opened my eyes to find him above me. He was smiling, his dimples deep and honest as he watched me intently.
"You okay?" he asked, almost smirking. Reaching up, I brushed my fingers along his cheek and smiled when he leaned his head into my touch.
"Yeah," I finally said. "I just..."
"You just what?" he asked, sitting down next to me, one arm on the other side of me bracing his body up. Looking down at me, I saw his smile begin to fade, my hesitation instilling some kind of worry in him. It pleased me that he was concerned, but I didn't want him to suffer.
Holding his gaze, I traced his lips with my thumb. "I just didn't want it to end," I admitted quietly. Relief filled his eyes and the creases in his brow relaxed as he nodded a bit.
"Me either," he whispered before lowering himself and placing his head on my chest. My hand moved from his lips to his hair, my fingers weaving through the curls that were dampened with sweat. "We've got some time," he said. I felt his head move as he glanced up at the clock.
A sudden knock at the door made us both jump. "Dude! Are you done? I didn't let them over to your room but...Vin, your parents are here!"
"Kick them out!" Vincenzo's entire demeanor changed.
"I already tried that!" Martin yelled back.
"Vincenzo, you don't have to face them alone," I immediately spoke up before putting my clothes on. "I can be there with you."
"But they'll just-"
"Do you trust me?" I asked. He nodded. "Get dressed."
I had already heard quite a bit about the fractured relationship Vincenzo had with his parents and how they'd tried to pressure him into being something he wasn't. I knew that I'd have to meet them eventually and it was going to be stressful for Vincenzo and i'd been prepared to keep my distance to avoid giving his parents another thing to object to in their son's life. But they'd turned up much earlier than I had anticipated and let themselves into the house where Martin was preparing to cook breakfast on his own while Vincenzo was still asleep.
They were sneaky people.
"Who the hell are you?" Vincenzo's dad asked angrily.
"Hello Mr. Devellis, I'm Rocco Lombardi, Vincenzo's boyfriend. I'm from Milan," I said holding my hand out to them. Hopefully thinking my accent would make them lower their gaurd.
"What are you doing here?" His mother asked. "Where's Vincenzo?"
"He's just waking up, he'll be out in a bit. He'll be coming out any minute now," I replied calmly. Inwardly i resented the fact that they'd arrived here so early and were threatening to take away my day plans with Vincenzo.
"You live here?" His dad asked disapprovingly.
"No, I crashed here last night. I live with my parents," i replied, hating that i felt i had to explain myself to these awful people. I frowned in annoyance as i saw his mother duck her head in the hallway to check on my story.
"His father and I are here to visit with Vincenzo, so you can go now" His mom said.
"So, you intend to make me a liar who breaks promises to that kid too?" I said, eyebrow raised. "You think that it's okay to interrupt our plans and make me the bad guy when you turn up without warning? If he's not coming to my house with me then it's up to you to tell him that it's not my fault you won't let him go."
"Watch it!" His dad warned.
"Or what? You'll hit me?" I narrowed my eyes at him and we just glared at each other.
"Morning Mom, Dad. You could have called and told me you were coming?" Vincenzo finally emerged from his room.
"We're your parents, we shouldn't need to make an appointment to see you. Plus you have me blocked," His mom said frantically.
"You also shouldn't assume that we don't have plans for the day. On top of that, you're blocked, but dad isn't, but i don't think you cared enough to try," Vincenzo argued.
"This is a family conversation, you don't need to come," his dad said to me.
"So now I'm family?" Vincenzo asked. "News to me. What are you doing here anyway?"
"Are we not even allowed to check on you anymore?" His mom complained before diverting her attention to me. "You should get married have a child of your own, make your own family instead of pretending to be part of ours. Vinny will marry a woman and you'll be left behind," she said offensively.
"My parents are fine with the way I am, so I don't actually need your opinion on our relationship considering you can't maintain one with your own kid," I replied while crossing my arms. "You don't get to choose your biological relatives but family means so much more than being blood related, you know."
"Where are your family?" His dad asked.
"My parents live near here and my sister is dating Martin," I rolled my eyes. "Not that it's any of your business."
"Did they raise you to be so disrespectful?" His mom snapped at me.
"Only when I'm getting disrespected first," I shot back.
"Don't talk about his family like that, and I don't remember asking for your opinion on my relationship. It's not appreciated," Vincenzo backed me up.
"You find it easy to dismiss our family even though you have one of your own," Vincenzo's dad said disapprovingly.
"Rocco isn't dismissing our family, he's part of my chosen family. I'm dating him because I really like him," Vincenzo said.
"He thinks he's better for you than we are. We're your parents," his mom said.
"I'm not going to deny that. I doubt you even really love your son, because you don't know him very well at all. You're too busy thinking that you know what's best for Vincenzo that you don't listen to other people who care about him too, worse, you don't even listen to him, to what he needs," I pointed out. "Control freaks."
"You dare to judge me and my family?" His dad yelled.
"My parents were good loving parents. They didn't beat or abuse me, they never deprived me of anything material that I needed or wanted. Good schools, tutors when I was struggling, brand name clothes, the latest toys and games, extracurricular activities," I told them. "You guys are just abusers. You taught him to depend on your love and then you withheld it from him. You taught him that your love was conditional. That you will love him if he's your image of what a man should be. That you will love him if he does the right thing and marries some girl you approve of. That you will love him if he does what you want him to do. That you will love him if he moves back in with you, which I assume is why you showed up unannounced. You have no idea what you've done to him. Vincenzo deserves to be with someone who loves him wholeheartedly and without conditions. He won't thrive in your small minded world where he'd be handicapped by your abuse and manipulation even more."
"How dare you. You know nothing about our love for our son," his mom cried in outrage.
"As soon as he said he was happy you immediately wanted to stop it. As soon as he found people who love him you try to ruin it, a running theme if you ask anyone with eyes. It's not out of concern for your kid, it's purely for your own satisfaction. You'd have Vincenzo believing that he can't do what other people do, that he can't be whatever he wants to be, that he can't have what other people have," I said.
"And I'm right! You're setting him up for ridicule and disappointment! The sooner Vincenzo learns his limitations the better he will adjust to them," his mom retorted.
"It was you and your husband who made him the way he is now," I said quietly.
"We did not mean to hurt him," his dad admitted. I noted that while there was regret in his voice, he made no apology.
"When you lie and throw punches, it usually hurts. Just let him think for himself, he's doing just fine-"
"He needs help," His mom objected. "Why wont you just mind your business and let me help him."
"Because he doesn't need or want you to help him. Vincenzo's brilliant and loves to learn. He could easily be a doctor or a lawyer, a scientist, an author, whatever he wants to be," I added.
"He's not the same as other boys," his mom insisted. I could see why Vincenzo was starting to check out. They didn't listen to anyone but themselves and they keep beating a dead horse.
"He's not as different as you think he is. Yes some things are more difficult or need to be approached from a different angle but that doesn't mean that he shouldn't try new things or be manipulated and molded into things he's not. He still deserves to have the same opportunities to live a productive life with a career he wants. There is no reason Vincenzo can't have all of that if he's not held back and told that he shouldn't try. Vincenzo is even the top of his class. I think number three in the entire school."
"Number two," Vincenzo corrected.
"You can't just treat him like a normal child," his mom still insisted.
"He's not a toddler and he resents being treated like one."
"Vincenzo is special, he needs to be protected," she said.
"Vincenzo isn't weak! He doesn't need to be coddled and protected from life. He's literally about to turn eighteen! He's a survivor. He's had a lot of trauma in his life but he's dealing with it all really well. In therapy! The only real help he receives!" I kept arguing for Vincenzo's sake.
"Thanks yes, but gratitude doesn't make someone family," his dad replied.
"No, we've never been a family," Vincenzo said bluntly. "Being able to depend on someone to be there for us when I need them, makes them family. Martin is my family and so is Rocco."
"You don't want to offer Vincenzo opportunities to grow and live his own life. The way you treat him deliberately limits him so he'll never grow out of needing your care, and that's selfish and shortsighted and manipulative. Never mind that he could live another eighty years and you won't always be there to provide it, or that he's soon going to grow into a shell of his former self, and you've seen how much he hates the idea of even seeing you. He's not your perpetual child. No matter how much you restrict his independence he is still going to grow up with the wants and needs of a regular man. I don't see how you can tell yourselves that you love Vincenzo at all if you don't want those things for him, but you can't change my opinion of you. The way you 'love' your son is selfish and self-serving, and it hurts him."
"How can you let anybody talk to your mother like that?" His dad demanded angrily.
"He's the person I trust more than you two and not one word he's said has been untrue. You and Mom have never put what was best for me on the table. You guys never loved me in the first place."
"How dare you speak to us like that!" His dad shouted making Martin walk into the room, ready to step in case of an escalation.
"If he'd listened to you and continued the way you thought was best, then he wouldn't be alive at all right now. You would've killed him or he would've killed himself," I rolled my eyes.
"They just came here because one of their friends probably noticed that I was gone and it's not lining up with what they were told," Vincenzo sighed. "None of this is about me."
"Martin, you can't agree with this. I know Vincenzo is doing his best but you're not old enough to be caring for him as much as you do. You would all be better off if Vincenzo came home with us," his mom said.
"This is Vincenzo's home. He's happier here than he would be being sent away to that hell hole. And I don't take care of him, we're both men who've been taking care of themselves since childhood. You just barged into my home, demanding something you have no right to ask for, tried to kick my guest out and tried to drag me into it. I'm confused why you're here as well, you guys already gave up when you brought his stuff over here." Martin shrugged.
"Then why'd you come back in here?!" His mom yelled.
"In case your husband feels like hitting people in my house. We all know he has a problem keeping his hands to himself," Martin said. "I've been taking some boxing lessons lately, so don't try anything here."
"Are you threatening us?" His mom gasped at Martin.
"It's a promise," Martin smiled back. "It's up to Vincenzo what he wants to do."
"Do you want to go back?" I asked him.
"As long as I was in that house, I wasn't a person, and there were all these lines in the sand and I didn't know when I would cross them or what would happen if I did. It wasn't anything obvious like that it was... It was a thousand things every day that just piled up and up until-" Vincenzo stopped as he choked on his words. "You know, I can't remember the last time either of them told me they loved me or if they ever did. And then I walked into the living room and there they are, trying to convince you two they loved me so much."
"We do love you!" His mom interjected.
Vincenzo paid his mother no mind and continued to speak. "I think they loved this fake version of me they made up in their heads, this son that belonged to them and was everything they hoped he would be. I... wasn't that son. It's Giacomo. Every time I showed signs that I wasn't him, they tried to... Humiliate, gaslight, threaten, and yell at me until I was him. I tried, for a while, I tried really hard to be who they wanted, but it didn't work. All it did was make it clear to me that I was nothing to them but a really expensive mistake. They just kept trying harder and harder, got angrier and angrier, I... I had to leave. I think if I stayed, I might've killed myself already."
"Did something happen? That made you actually leave?" I asked.
"Just got to the point where more days than not, I would find myself thinking maybe being dead would be a better option than living like that. Guess I decided to go before... Before it got to that. Then it was a concrete decision after he put me in the hospital," Vincenzo explained. I watched both his parents flinch at his words. "'Was I really a mistake?"
"Who told you that?" His dad asked.
"Both of you, my entire life," he reminded them. "That's why I tried to make you and mom happy by leaving."
"We-"
"I have Rocco and Martin and a good therapist, what do you need me for anyway?" Vincenzo asked.
"Your younger brother-"
"Giacomo has all my contact information. We speak at least three times a week. He knows the situation as well and understands why I'm not in that house anymore," Vincenzo said. "Don't hide behind my little brother for this. Just tell me why you guys are here."
"Did Danny not speak to you?" His mom asked desperately.
"Why would he, after you barged into his home on Christmas while his dad wasn't home and tried to bully him so that he would continue to do your dirty work even though it almost killed him. You even told him that his engagement was a phase and his fiancé's bodyguard had to make sure you left and didn't come back," Vincenzo groaned. "Yeah, I know all about your shenanigans. I almost lost my funding for therapy because of that. Is that why you're here? You thought he would do what you wanted and were surprised that I didn't run back home?"
"You can-"
"Apolonia, just drop it and let me go. Just tell your friends that I died or something, they'll stop asking you questions if you just do that. Now can you just leave me alone?" Vincenzo grabbed my hand. "You guys are finally free of the biggest burden in your life. Why not just take the win? What's the point of all this? Is it Nonna? Just lie and say we made up and everything's great. I don't care anymore."
"What can I do to make this right?" His mother begged. "Have we done nothing for you?"
"You taught me not to have a baby to keep someone who doesn't want you anymore," even I was shocked at Vincenzo's snarky answer. It was full of venom, but I didn't stop him. It needed to be said. "And that torture just kills the human spirit and to not be so selfish. You gave me a lot of great examples of what I don't want to be. Now please, instead of using me as a crutch, just divorce or work out your marriage. Whatever you two decide to do, just leave me out of it and stay the hell away from me. I don't love you guys, I don't care if you two live or die, I don't care what happens next, as long as I don't have to hear about it. With that being said, get out of Martin's house before we call the police."
"You-"
"He's right Apolonia. We both knew nothing was going to come of this and I'm getting really tired of putting up this front myself," his dad sighed. He got up and, for the first time since we saw him, looked Vincenzo in the eye. "If it's what you want, live your life. Congratulations on becoming a man, remember to speak to Nonna when you can."
"I'll remember to call her," Vincenzo said back. His dad awkwardly held his hand out for a handshake which Vincenzo declined. After his dad figured out the move was rejected, he lowered his arm and walked from the household without another word.
"Is there really nothing I can do?" His mom asked again.
"You can drop the act," Vincenzo suggested.
"What act?" His mom snapped. "Do you think I don't-"
"Just leave me alone, Apolonia," Vincenzo sighed and grabbed my hand before standing up and leading me to the kitchen for breakfast. Seeing as there was no ruckus after we exited the room, I could only guess that his mother had left the home escorted by Martin.
That was tense as hell.
I put my hand on Vincenzo's cheek and felt his violently trembling. "I'm proud of you," I told him, as he let himself fold into my embrace. As he held me and I held him, I could his breath become irregular and my shoulder getting damp. "You did really well. Let's be happy together, Vinny. Me and my family will take care of you."
He said nothing, so I just took it as him silently agreeing. I truely wanted to comfort him however I could, but ultimately couldn't think of anything to say that would be of substance. In the end, I just continued to hold him as close as I could and let him cry the painful tears he needed to cry.