Loretta, my eldest sister, was thirty-six and married to Aldo. He was in his early forties, and they had four children together: Carina, Siena, Luca, and Liliana. My other sister Maria, who is thirty-two, also married an older Italian male, Franco, and they had five children: Alessandra, Gianna and Lia, twins, then Aida, and Roberto.
Then, there were us. We had Noah, and being the first-born male in our family, we were expected to name him after papa. Instead, we chose Noah. They were disappointed. I guess in a way, I felt a little bad for him, but we wanted him to have his own name, and Noah was one we both really liked. Brody chose Lila’s name himself. I instantly fell in love with it. We didn’t speak Italian, and I wasn’t going to force Brody to live a way he wasn’t accustomed to. I tried teaching the children a couple words, and the only ones that stuck were Ciao, Per favore, and Si. Now and then, I would try, but they said it was too hard, maybe when they’re older, they’d like to learn, but it wasn’t something I pushed on them.
“He’ll be here,” I assured them both but more to myself. I needed him to show up.
Lila loved to dance, so enrolling her in classes seemed the best thing to do. She grasped the routines with ease, and it was a great way for her to socialise with other kids her age. I just hoped Brody hadn’t forgotten because she would be heartbroken if she knew the truth. He hadn’t made it to a single of her dance performances. She had only been dancing ballet for the past two years, and it was still exciting to her. It was also teaching her patience, a skill she definitely needed to learn and something that her brother wasn’t at the moment.
“Mum,” Noah moaned. “I want to go home. I’m bored.”
“Mum?” Loretta whispered. “My bambinos would never dare call me that.”
I gave her a look. It didn’t bother me that they went from mummy to mama to mum. “Noah, please don’t start. Lila is excited, and we’re not leaving.” I wasn’t in the mood for this right now.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he slumped backwards in his head and huffed. I ignored him, not wanting to make a scene. When the lights dimmed low, I just hoped Brody was standing in the back.
Maria leaned and whispered, “Make sure you call mama. She’s missing you.”
“If she misses me so much, then she can call me for once.” I was sick and tired of being blamed for everything that I’m not doing right. I always called her without fail. Yet if I missed a day, she would overreact and complain to my sisters that I wasn’t speaking to her.
Loretta chuckled. “Someone’s in a mood. Papa is thinking about retiring. We should do some celebration for him.”
“He’s sixty-two. I think it’s about time he retires.” He’d been at the same car dealership since we made the move from Italy to Tasmania. It was due time he resigns and enjoyed his life. “Let me know when the party is. I’ll help with whatever I can.”
Lila danced beautifully, and of course, Rose and Scott’s daughter, Tulip was also up there; front and centre stage. I couldn’t help but snicker as she wobbled, her posture off. That’s what you get for trying to make your daughter number one, I thought to myself.
As the curtains closed, I couldn’t have been anymore prouder of Lila. She’d been nervous, but once they started, those nerves obviously vanished away. Noah also watched with interest also, not as bored as he claimed. As I went backstage to collect Lila, my sisters kept an eye on Noah, so he didn’t wander off. When we returned, I spotted Brody walked through the doors.
Lila saw him instantly. He was hard to miss. The only one dressed in a sharp black suit with his hair neatly done. She took off with a squeal. “Daddy, did you see me?”
Maria raised a brow as I joined my sisters. “I see he didn’t,” she pointed out, shaking her head as she put on a fake smile facing him. “Brody, how are you?”
Looking at Maria, he smiled politely. “Well, thank you.” He leaned in, kissing my cheek. Pulling away, he lifted up Lila. “I did, sweetheart. You danced so well.” She didn’t know that he had missed it since she kept talking about her favourite parts with enthusiasm.
My sisters waved us off, and we walked outside. The darkness greeted us as night had fallen and colder than when we had arrived. I rubbed my bare arms, scolding myself for not thinking to pack a jacket. I noticed Rose storming across the car park, Tulip in tow as she stomped behind her. She had been too busy to chat earlier. I wondered why Scott didn’t show up but was grateful that he hadn’t.
“Can we go now?” Noah groaned. He was by my side, frowning at his father. He knew he hadn’t made it either. Kids weren’t stupid. They knew what was up.
Brody glanced at Noah, who wouldn’t look up him. His hand clung tightly in mine. “Sure.”
“Good. I didn’t like it,” he muttered. “Boring dancing.”
“It’s called ballet, Noah,” Lila corrected, her hands fixing out her light pink tutu as Brody set her back on her feet. “You’re so silly sometimes.”
Noah reminded me of his father when he rolled his eyes. “Well, I don’t care. I don’t want to watch that again.”
“Be nice. She watched you play soccer,” Brody said. “She never complains that you’re only kicking a ball.”
I looked at him, shaking my head. How would he know? He again never took him to practice after school. It was me, taking him during the windy and sometimes, rainy days, listening to Lila being bored and complaining that she wanted to go home. I’d tell her to go and play on the equipment to distract her until the practice was over. Brody would show up on Saturdays, help coach, and that pissed me off.
The two started racing over to the car. I ignored Brody’s apologetic look as I began to follow the kids. “Gabby,” he began, stopping when I glared.
“You missed it.” I walked past him, unable to say much else.
Jogging a couple steps to catch up, he was soon by my side. “I was on my way out the door, I swear.”
“Let me guess, someone else needed you more than your kids did.” It was harsh but the truth. I was sick of never being first. The kids deserved to be first for a change.
He sighed heavily. “That’s not fair. I’m in charge. I have to help when it's needed,” he retorted, pulling open the back door of my black SUV. He’d parked his car beside mine, a black Audi A4 company car that he didn’t have to pay for. He leaned inside the car. “Hey, kids, want to go grab an ice cream?”
Of course, when you ask children if they wanted to have sweets, they’re going to want one. It was late, just after 9 PM. If it were any other night, I probably would have been okay with it, but I had to be the bad one and say no. “Sorry, you, two, need to go home; school tomorrow,” I reminded, glaring at Brody for even bringing it up. “Don’t do that.”
“What now?”
“Don’t come in late after missing her show and think ice-cream will fix it. You make me the bad one when I have to say no,” I said, keeping my voice down low from other parents still lingering around.
Glancing towards Lila in the car, he looked back to me. “She didn’t notice I wasn’t there.”
“Not the point, it’s the second concert you missed just like you almost missed something else that was twice as important.” I threw their births at him, giving him a guilt trip from down memory lane.
His jaw tensed, and his voice was low and harsh. “Almost; I made it there.”
With a whisper, I opened the car door and ready to climb in. “You should have been there from the start.”
He rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. “I’ll see you at home.” And with that, he walked to his car and left me to drive home with tired, complaining kids.
“It’s not fair,” Noah grumbled. “Dad said we could get ice cream!”
I ignored him, hoping they would fall asleep in the twenty-minute drive home. The entire trip was quiet. The kids luckily passed out on the drive and were still out like a light when Brody pulled up behind me in the driveway.
I couldn’t look at him. Anger boiled inside of me as he came down from c
arrying the kids up to their beds. Everything agitated me. When he walked into the kitchen, I refused to listen to his excuses and repetitive apologies. They were all the same. My heart ached. I just couldn’t take this.
“Don’t walk away from me when I’m speaking to you!” he snapped harshly.
I kept walking, taking my hot tea into the living room. “Don’t speak to me, then. I have nothing to say to you.”
“Bullshit, You’re being overly dramatic.”
That struck a nerve, and I spun around with the teacup in my hands, tempted to throw the hot liquid at him. “Get out of my face. I’m not in the mood tonight,” I warned him, gritting my teeth.
“You’re never in the mood apparently,” he muttered with a scoff. “Only thing you enjoy is a good bitch.”
He knew how to push my buttons and pushed he did. I lost it.
Midnight was nearing, and we were still going. The accusations and insults were carelessly hurled around. If one walked away, the other followed, still yelling. I’d been called a nagging bitch who wanted everything for nothing, and he was a bastard who was never here for his family. Our fights very rarely lasted this long, and they definitely weren’t as bad. We’d go to bed mad, wake up the next morning, and our fight was never mentioned again.
“You never put this family first, Brody!” I shouted, walking into the living room with him hot on my tail.
“Everything I do is for this family!” he roared, picking up a glass vase filled with fresh garden flowers and threw it across the room. Glass shards shattered down to the floor. “You are always first!”
“If I were first, you wouldn’t do things to hurt me like having lunch with your secretary,” I spat back. “I bet you’re doing it more than what you’ve told me!” We were back to this.
With a mutter, he groaned rubbing a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ, it was one time, and I admitted that I fucked up. It wasn’t anything sexual, and you know it. You get these thoughts into your head, and it infuriates me, Gabby.”
“What if I never showed up that day? God, Brody, do you have any idea what that had done to me? How would you like to see another man all over me like that?” It still crushed me to this day, just thinking about it. I was going to say something to her because it was highly inappropriate being at work, and completely disrespectful to his children and me, but why should I do that? He put us in this situation in the first place. This was on him.
“You want that don’t you? You want to go out and fuck another man!” he yelled in my face, his breath hot and reeking of whisky. His face was red and jaw hard as he went to yell some more. “You want another dick—”
My hand came up. The loud smack that echoed the room shut him up as my hand connected with his cheek, hard. His eyes watered as his breathing flared up. I had never done that to him before, but I was so angry. I couldn’t stop myself. “Don’t you ever talk to me that way again?” I said, low and so furious that I was shaking. I regretted hitting him instantly.
Nostrils flaring, he stood taller and wrapped his hand around my wrist, probably worried I was going to hit him again. “Fuck you, Gabriella. Fuck… You!” he said, menacing low and angrily. His tone scared me. I’d never heard him this angry, and it frightened me. “If I were like the men in your family, I’d have hit you back. I should fucking do it. That’s how pissed I am right now.”
“If you want to hit me, then damn well, hit me,” I challenged back, still shaking as I watched his cheek turn redder. The sting in my palm burned, throbbing with agony as I rubbed it.
“I won’t ever lay a hand on you, Gabriella.” I didn’t see how I could slap him and him not slapping me back.
My father and brother-in-laws, they hit my mother and sisters. It was allowed, and they never spoke of it. I had witnessed my father wrapping his hand around my mother’s throat and slapping her hard across the face when she spoke back to him. Brody promised me that he never would lay a finger on me, and he had kept that promise.
I should have let it go. I didn’t. I needed to know. “Do you want her?” I yelled. I was so angry with him. “Tell me the truth!” I demanded.
Forcing his eyes shut tightly, he shook his head. “No, God, I’ve never even looked at her that way!”
“I don’t trust you,” I blurted, but the words felt good to finally say.
He blew out a long hard breath. “Go to bed, Gabby. Otherwise, I’ll say something I’ll fucking regret.”
“Grow some balls and say it. You never talk, and that’s what fucks me off with you. You just yell and ignore me. So get it off your chest and damn talk!” I pressed, pushing him against the chest. I’ll damn well give him crazy.
“You think I’m the problem? All I listen to at home is you nagging and constantly complaining! I can never do anything right with you!”
I mocked a laugh. “Exactly, you don’t do anything right. When was the last time you sat and ate dinner with your children?”
His eyes narrowed. I’d pushed a button. “Are you calling me a bad father?” I remained silent. “You’re always quick to judge me but look at you. You don’t let them do a lot of shit that they want to do.”
“No, I just don’t throw toys and ice cream in their faces. I don’t want them to grow up like your brother’s daughter!” The conversation was soon taking another turn. We would often do this, pick on each other’s faults and then bring each other’s family into our argument.
Brody closed his mouth. He knew I was right. Sweeping his tongue across his lower lip, he began attacking mine back. “My brother? What about your sisters and your parents? All they did was meddle and take control when they’re here.”
Rolling my eyes, I scoffed, “Don’t be stupid.”
“Stupid?” he spat. “I fucking listen to them bitch and complain in damn Italian, and I feel like a fucking idiot because I can’t understand any of it!”
“Learn it then! How many times do I say that I would teach you some words? God forbid, you want to do anything with me, though! By the way, I always stand up for you. If they’re attacking you, I have never ignored it. Unlike you, you never defend me when I’m being belittled about not working!” I threw my hands up and angrily and turned away.
Brody, of course, needed the final say. “Just because you don’t hear it doesn’t mean I do not say anything back to them.”
“Whatever.” I scoffed, not believing him. Turning around, I wiped fallen tears from my eyes. “You just don’t care. It’s all about you… you and work. If we mattered, you’d be home earlier and putting the children first. I get you have a busy job, but you’re missing out on a lot here.”
“Don’t throw that in my face,” he grimly muttered.
My arms crossed over my chest as I sighed heavily. I went to speak when a loud scream startled us both. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Lila’s hot tears streaming down her cheeks as she stood there, clutching her dolly tightly. Noah had an arm around her as he stared at Brody angrily.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt more terrible in my life, to have our two innocent children visibly upset and crying. My heart was in my throat as I couldn’t think of the words to say. What could I say to them? There was no escaping this with a simple daddy and mama are just having a little argument. This wasn’t little at all. We’d let them down and made them see how bad things were.
“Fuck.” I heard Brody whisper from behind me.
“Noah… Lila…” I began, my breathing ragged as I fought back the sobs.
Noah lifted his arm out, holding a piece of paper. As soon as I took it from him, they both ran upstairs. We heard one door slam, and I realised they were in Noah’s room together. We terrified them.
I sat down, vision blurred as I uncrumpled the piece of paper. “What does it say?” Brody asked, walking over and taking a seat beside where I sat.
My heart broke as I read Noah’s handwriting; three small words that had the biggest impact on our lives. Please stop fighting.
I burst into tears. My
heart ached with agony as I passed him the paper and watched as him read it. His expression immediately became pained and regretful. My guilt was heavy. I was disappointed with myself that they heard us arguing and felt the need to come and ask us to stop. No child should ever have to do that.
Our argument had ended. It was the children who were suffering, and we couldn’t keep going on like this anymore. Things needed to change. We both needed to change. I buried my face in my hands, crying with his hand on my lower back, rubbing soothing circles, but it didn’t help. Nothing could.
The tears hot, stinging my eyes when I finally spoke, “We can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep fighting with you.”
“I don’t want to fight anymore, either,” he said quietly, pulling back away. His eyes were on the wooden floorboards as he rested both elbows on each knee.
“They deserve to grow up without parents fighting constantly.” I sniffed. “We’re not working, and nothing seems to change.” It was the same fights and the same petty arguments that would also happen.
Standing up, he walked over to the fireplace and placed both hands on the mantle, gripping the ledge. “I know. I know things need to change.” He stood there a moment before coming back to me. Sitting on the coffee table, facing each other, he reached over and took both my hands in his. “I want a divorce.”
I was silent. Nothing could have prepared me for what I felt. It was a relief, not desperation to beg him to change his mind. “Me too,” I whispered back.
Sitting and just staring at each other, the reality slapped us both hard across the face.
We were done.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I should have felt hurt, but instead, I felt relieved; then, it all began to sink in. Shock and the fear of the unknown washed over me. What happens next? How would it happen? I was a woman who spent my days knowing exactly what I would be doing, and now… I had no damn clue about everything.
“I have nowhere to go,” I whispered.
Forgotten Sweethearts: A Romance Novel Page 6
