Fragile Longing

by Reilly, Cora

  “I was. I’m not anymore.” He closed his eyes and cried silently.

  I stayed at his side, not saying anything, unable to comfort him, barely able to see him as the shadow of the man he used to be.

  A few minutes after midnight, my father died surrounded by Mom, Emma, and me. Emma had insisted on being present, even if I’d been wary of letting her stay.

  Their sadness filled the room like their sobbing and crying. I stood by the wall, a bystander to their open anguish. Deep down, the turmoil they showed openly tortured me, but my stoic outer mask remained unperturbed. Mom and Emma needed me to be strong, to be their rock in these unsteady times. It was my task in life. My duty.

  I balled my hands into fists in my pockets, the only outward sign of the fiery mix of emotions burning up inside me. Sadness and fury had mixed with the dark emotions that had built over many months, and were now joined by newer, darker emotions, creating a potent mix that threatened to unravel me.

  After the morgue had taken Father’s body and I’d made all the necessary arrangements, I left the house. It was almost five in the morning, and my mother and sister had finally succumbed to sleep. I was wide awake. I’d suppressed too many emotions in the last year. I needed an outlet, a reprieve from my controlled self.

  I drove to one of the clubs Marco’s family managed. It was the best place in the city if you wanted a good time and had the necessary funds.

  The guestlist was exclusive, and you could only get through the door if your name was on the list. The bouncers let me pass without a word. Before I could settle at the bar, Marco appeared at my side. “I heard,” he said.

  I nodded, ordered a drink, and downed it. “I need to take my mind off things.”

  I wasn’t usually a customer in our establishments. Sex for money had never appealed to me. But I was hollow inside, too empty to put any effort into a possible distraction.

  Marco considered me. “I have someone in mind for you. Go to Suite Three. I’ll send her up.”

  I got up without asking for details and went upstairs to the private rooms. The suite Marco had chosen had a Roman theme with a round bed surrounded by fake columns. I didn’t care about the surroundings. Fuck, I didn’t care about anything right now.

  The door opened and a tall woman with long blonde hair stepped in. She was dressed in a white wrap dress matching the theme of the room. In my exhausted, half-drunk state, she looked like a bad replica of Serafina.

  Fuck Marco, the bastard. He could read me like an open book. Only her seductive smile and her sexy movements betrayed her true identity. Accepting her was admitting weakness; sending her back would send the same message. Either way, I was a fucking mess.

  “What do you want?” she said in a beckoning voice.

  “No talking,” I growled, jerking her against me. “Now suck my cock.”

  She fell to her knees and I tilted my head back, staring up at the ceiling adorned with ancient Roman mosaics. I didn’t look at her as she sucked me, didn’t look at her as I fucked her. Images of another blonde woman entered my mind, and my thrusts turned almost vicious as the prostitute knelt before me, but the images were distorted, clouded with bitterness and a sickening need for revenge.

  Satisfaction didn’t settle in me even when I came. All that filled me was a sense of defeat.

  More than three years later

  I couldn’t remember when exactly I saw the first photo of Danilo with a blonde girl at his side. It happened a few months ago, shortly after New Year. I’d been perusing Indianapolis newspaper websites to familiarize myself with my future home, and if I was being honest, to feel closer to my fiancé. My heart had stuttered when the image of Danilo leaving a club with a tall blonde woman had mocked me from my laptop screen. Who was she? Was she the reason he rarely contacted me? Had she taken Serafina’s place in his heart?

  My mind had been going a hundred miles per hour. I couldn’t ask Samuel or my parents about it, so I’d done what I always did—I called Anna, asking her for advice.

  She’d talked me off the ledge, and the next morning she’d sent me more articles, pieces that had obviously been taken down shortly after their publication, and all of them had pictures of Danilo with blonde girls. Nobody had taken Serafina’s place in Danilo’s heart. With every new conquest, he seemed to look for a replica of her. For the first time, a flicker of anger mingled with my usual feelings of inadequacy.

  We weren’t officially engaged yet, but of course everyone in our circles knew we were promised to each other. People had been gossiping about me taking Serafina’s place for what felt like ages. Everyone seemed to mourn her loss, always comparing her ethereal beauty and blonde hair to my less angelic appearance. When I’d been younger, I hadn’t minded having Dad’s brown hair and most days I still didn’t, but sometimes I wanted nothing more than to have Mom’s blonde.

  Knowing that Danilo was pursuing blonde girls to remember my sister, had hurt me the first few times, but eventually annoyance had been added to the mix. He’d obviously tried to keep his affairs hush-hush, judging by how quickly every article had been taken down. But now that I knew, the truth lodged itself in my heart like an ever-expanding black hole. Sometimes I managed to talk myself into believing that he just liked blondes and wasn’t looking for Serafina 2.0, but I knew I was lying to myself.

  I hadn’t talked to anyone but Anna about my discovery in the three months since then, but my mind had been whirling with thoughts.

  Tomorrow was my sixteenth birthday, and Anna and her family would arrive today to celebrate with us. Like last year, Danilo wouldn’t come to visit. I’d seen him a couple of times since he’d spent the night after Fina ran off, but we hadn’t talked more than a few words. I was torn between relief and disappointment. Maybe it was for the best that I wouldn’t have to face him until I’d gotten over his blonde-girl-addiction. But when would that ever happen?

  I knew he’d send Emma and a present over for my birthday, then give me a dutiful call. My silly dreams of having a dance with him at one of our social gatherings hadn’t been fulfilled yet.

  The moment the bell rang, announcing the arrival of Anna and her family, I ran out of my room, excited about seeing my best friend again. We talked every other day on the phone and messaged every day, but we only saw each other about once a month.

  Mom and Dad were already in the foyer. It had taken a while for our families to find our ways back to each other after Fina ran off. I was glad that our parents had worked things out because it allowed me to see Anna. She spotted me on the staircase and grinned widely. She looked stunning in a cute plaid skirt and a plain white T-shirt emblazoned with Gucci. Whenever I saw her and admired her brown hair, I reminded myself that I had almost the same hair color, so why shouldn’t I be happy with it when I loved it on her?

  Leonas looked his usual bored, too-cool-for-this-world self while little Beatrice, who was only two, seemed giddy.

  I rushed downstairs and hugged Anna before I greeted the rest of them. “Can we go to my room?” I asked the moment I’d fulfilled my host duties.

  The look Dad gave me was scolding, but he was smiling. “All right, but dinner is in an hour.”

  I grabbed Anna’s hand and led her toward the stairs when I noticed Bea, her blonde pigtails swinging wildly, stumbling after us.

  Anna sighed in annoyance. “She’s glued to my side.” She turned to Valentina. “Mom, can you please take her? Sofia and I haven’t seen each other in ages, we need to talk.”

  “You talked for over an hour on the phone yesterday,” Leonas muttered.

  “Who asked you, Blondie?” Anna growled.

  “Anna,” Dante warned but he smiled at me.

  Val picked Bea up despite her loud protests, and Anna and I used our chance to run off and hide in my room. We flung ourselves on my bed. In preparation for our girl talk, I’d put chocolate, chips, and fruit on my night table to snack on.

  “How are things with Santino?” I asked when we’d settled on my
bed, several pillows propped up against our back and a bowl with chips between us. Even if my Danilo problem burned a hole in my head, I didn’t want to be the annoying friend who never shut up about her own issues.

  Anna rolled her eyes. “He’s being annoying. He treats me like I’m a clueless kid, commanding me around as if he’s my boss. He doesn’t act like he’s working for me, but the other way around.”

  “Technically, he works for your father, not for you.” I tilted my head, regarding the faint blush on Anna’s cheeks. “You like him?”

  She picked at a chip. “He’s handsome but intolerable. He’s fun to piss off, though.”

  I giggled. “And he’s your bodyguard. Your dad would kill him if he touched you.”

  She shrugged. “I’m air for him, unless he needs to make sure I follow his security concepts.”

  “I know how that feels,” I muttered. Being air for Danilo was something I should have gotten used to by now, but it still stung, especially after seeing photos of his affairs in the newspapers. My inability to not care annoyed me the most. I wished I could be cool about it and just pretend he was air until we married.

  Anna turned to me, her blue eyes as keen as usual. “You still not over those photos? I hope you stopped checking the news for more images.”

  My face heated. I’d promised Anna I’d stop stalking Danilo, but curiosity always got the better of me. “I just don’t get why he keeps dating those blonde girls. It’s strange.”

  “He’s being a dick, and what he’s doing with them probably doesn’t qualify as dating. He should really pay closer attention to the paparazzi when he’s strolling about drunk with his bimbos.”

  As usual, I became defensive when Anna attacked Danilo. “Those weren’t official photos, and we’re not together yet, so he can do what he wants. It’s my problem that I feel insecure about his actions.” I probably wouldn’t have felt half as bad about Danilo being with other girls before our marriage if every single one of his dates hadn’t been tall and blonde. They were Serafina lookalikes. None of them even had the slightest resemblance to me.

  “Still,” Anna said pointedly. “It’s weird how he picks all those blonde bimbos. It’s been years. Why can’t he get over his hurt pride?”

  Was it really only pride that drew Danilo to those girls? Or was it a longing to remember my sister, to have her in some way, even when she’d been stolen from him? I’d hoped that seeing her happy in her wedding photos would be the kick he needed. It had helped me. Knowing that Fina was happy with her new life had been the closure I needed to let go of her fully. I still missed her, but I’d made my peace with the distance between us. The wedding seemed to have been the turning point for Samuel as well. He wasn’t completely over losing her yet, but most days he seemed to be doing fine.

  Sometimes I wondered whether Danilo pretended those girls were Serafina when he slept with them. Did he whisper sweet compliments into their ears as he held them, imagining they were my sister? Did he even utter her name?

  The mere thought made me angry and sick at once.

  “He just seems to prefer blondes.” I tried to sound as if it didn’t matter, but Anna knew me too well.

  She glared at me. “Don’t compare yourself to Serafina. She’s gone. You’re here.”

  When I’d been little, I sometimes wanted to be my sister because she was older and everyone admired her, not to mention the close bond she had with Samuel. It had been an innocent wish, like a little girl wanting to be Ariel or Cinderella, but it had recently turned into something more obsessive. I couldn’t help but wonder if people—especially Danilo—would treat me differently if I looked more like Serafina. I still wouldn’t be her, but perhaps then people would take notice of me.

  I’d scheduled a hair appointment for the next morning to test my theory. I’d told no one about my plans, not even Anna, because I knew she’d try to talk me out of it. Maybe it was a stupid idea, but there was no harm in trying.

  “Isn’t that what everyone does?” I muttered.

  “I don’t, and maybe you only think they do because you always do.”

  I twisted a strand of my hair around my finger. Chestnut brown—a beautiful color if you regarded it strictly on its own. “How are things between you and Leonas? Still a warzone?”

  Anna rolled her eyes at me at my cheap attempt to change the subject but still humored me with an answer. After that, we steered clear of the subject of Danilo.

  The next morning after breakfast, Anna and I were lounging on my bed, watching a movie when a knock sounded at my door. Samuel poked his head in. “We need to leave if you want to make your hair appointment.”

  He gave Anna a small nod before he left, leaving the door ajar.

  “He used to be more fun,” Anna said.

  “Yeah, I know.” Since Serafina had left, he’d become horribly serious and focused. The Outfit’s success was his driving force. He worked long hours and hardly took a day off.

  “What are you doing with your hair?” Anna asked as she followed me into the hallway. I hesitated. I didn’t really want to tell her about my plans. I wanted to surprise everyone, but Anna’s words yesterday had left me worrying all night.

  “Just cutting the ends,” I lied, avoiding Anna’s eyes but they seemed to x-ray me. I had never been a good liar, and Anna was good at detecting fibs.

  “There you are!” Leonas shouted from down the lobby. “Take Bea off my hands. She’s annoying.”

  Their little sister clung to Leonas’ trouser leg. She obviously wanted to be carried.

  “It’s your turn,” Anna said.

  “She’s cute. I’d love to babysit her,” I said.

  Leonas gave me an exasperated look. “Yeah, for an hour. But she’s a little despot when she doesn’t get her will.”

  “Isn’t it a bit early for the stubborn phase?” I asked as Anna and I reached the lobby. Bea kept tugging at Leonas’s pants, but Anna swooped her up and planted a fat kiss on her cheek. “Girl time.”

  Bea giggled.

  My stomach tightened as Serafina’s twins flashed through my mind. They were only a bit over a year older than Bea, but I hadn’t seen them and my sister in years. I missed them terribly, and I couldn’t even talk to anyone about them. The twins were red flags in my family—even Serafina’s name rarely passed anyone’s lips. Too much pain was associated with my sister’s loss. The few times I’d tried to ask Samuel if he was still in contact with Fina hadn’t gone over well. If you didn’t play close attention, it might seem like any hint of Fina and the twins had been erased from this house and our lives, but her memory lingered.

  Samuel strode into the lobby, dressed in jeans, a white dress shirt, and a leather jacket. The girls in my class always went nuts when he drove me to school and picked me up. His constant pissed-off demeanor only seemed to add fuel to the fire of their ridiculous infatuation.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  I nodded and waved goodbye to Leonas, Bea, and Anna, then followed my brother toward his fancy sports car. He wrapped an arm protectively around my shoulders.

  “You okay?” he asked in a low voice. He always asked me that question on my birthday and Christmas. He probably realized how much I missed her, but he never admitted to missing her. He rarely even uttered her name. They were twins, had been absolutely inseparable, and now she was gone.

  I searched his eyes. “And you?”

  He flashed me a smile. He was good at those quick smiles. “Of course, bug.”

  I scrunched up my nose. I despised my shortened nickname. He did it on purpose, of course.

  He opened the car door for me. “In you go.”

  I plopped down and Samuel slid behind the steering wheel. When we pulled out of the driveway, Carlo’s car followed us. I’d gotten used to his constant presence over the years. In the beginning, Dad and Samuel had been annoyed that Danilo had sent his own bodyguard to keep me safe, but for me it was a tiny sign that he cared for me in some way, even if he didn’t show it o
therwise. Like all men in our world, he was a control freak.

  Samuel didn’t come into the hair salon with me. He, like Carlo, waited in the car. I’d told him it would take a while, but he didn’t mind and didn’t ask questions. Like most men, Samuel had no clue how much time girls spent at the hairdresser. Anna would have been suspicious if I’d told her I needed two hours. No haircut took that long. My party would start in the early evening, so I still had plenty of time.

  My hairdresser smiled at me. I’d told her what I wanted to do over the phone. When she began applying the bleach, my stomach swooped. I’d never dyed my hair, never really changed my appearance. I wasn’t sure what the effect would be.

  Two hours later, I stared at my reflection. For a moment, I was sure I was seeing a ghost. My hairdresser had straightened my hair and dyed it blonde, the same light golden blonde as Serafina’s. I’d looked at samples of different blonde tones for close to thirty minutes before I’d settled on the right hue. My throat clogged up. With Fina’s hairstyle and color, I looked like her. We had the same eye color, the same high cheekbones and narrow nose. I had a few freckles, but my makeup covered those, and I was shorter, but seated, I was Serafina’s double. It was so close to the original that my heart ached, and my pulse sped up.

  My hairdresser touched my shoulder when I didn’t react. “I love it.” The words came out sounding harsh. I wasn’t sure I did. I wasn’t sure what I felt at all. I’d wanted to look like Fina because she’d been what everyone had admired when she’d been around, and she was dearly missed. Danilo wanted her, or at least someone who looked like her—if his dating habits were any indication. Mom, Dad, and Samuel missed Fina, too. Maybe Danilo would finally look at me and see more than the girl who hadn’t been his first choice. Still, goosebumps rose on my skin as I stared at myself. This wasn’t me, and it definitely wasn’t who I wanted to be. If it wouldn’t have taken two hours to color it back, I would have asked my hairdresser to do it right away.