I get settled in the apartment I rented just for this week, which is located in the very center of the city, close to the clinic where I will have the surgery in a few days. It is scheduled to leave quickly. If the medical check-up goes well, I will be back at the Magghio Castle in a short week. I try to be as optimistic as possible, even though I know that the chances of getting screwed are greater than those of being saved. I must try because I don’t feel myself forgetting details. I can’t think about what will happen when my son takes his first steps when he goes to school for the first time, and the day it’s his turn to do his music or arts performance. I want to be there. Also, I don’t want to forget him or forget the color of his eyes or how he smiles. The problem with this deficiency in my brain is that it will get worse and worse over time. In a few years, the prognosis is to affect my short-term memory. Day-to-day details will become more than a dream and a blur in my memory. I can’t afford it. I can’t get that far away from reality. I don’t want to be a burden to my family… and my only family is my son, Dante.
I haven’t considered my brother part of my family for months. He is there, and my heart is screaming at me to forgive him, but I can’t do it. I won’t allow myself to do it. As I look into his eyes, all I can see is his betrayal.
I sit on the balcony. I grab my cell phone to call and check on Dante.
That little bambino is the only thing waiting for me at home, happy and content to see me. Only for him, I do the things I do. Only for him, I will undergo this surgery to give him a better future and not have to leave him in the hands of someone I cannot trust or believe in. Someone like my brother. That is why I decided to get married again, but doing it consciously, knowing that women are not to be believed in, much less when they have angelic and perfect faces. I preferred to get married, knowing that love is not involved. I did it with a person I will believe and who will take care of my son, with Donatella’s help, of course, because I know that this lady is the best thing that could be left for me after the death of my parents.
“Magghio Castle,” Donatella answers with the first ring.
“Hi. How’s it going?” I feel tired from the trip and life. I run my hand over my face to try to wake up. But, my eyes want to close and stop cooperating.
“Mr. Magghio, how was your trip?” She is the only one who knows what I have gone up to the center of the country for. However, she has orders not to discuss it with anyone else.
“Good. The surgery will be done the day after tomorrow.”
“It will be fine,” she blurts out after a long silence.
To Donatella, the two of us are like her children, the ones she could never have. I value and appreciate that. That lady of few words is the only one who has not left me, not because I was the best man in the world after discovering Arianna’s infidelity, but because she put up with me, understood me, and taught me that my son was not to blame for the misfortunes around him. A child is never to blame for having been born or for being the child of his parents. Children do not have the power to choose their parents, much less to select the economic or sentimental situation they are born.
“Let’s hope so,” I sigh. “If anything should happen to me…”
“Nothing is going to happen to you, Darío,” she interjects. “I’m sick of listening to you with that pessimism. You have to put on some confidence. You’re not going to die on that table.” She released that respect and aloofness we’d built up since Arianna’s death.
“You don’t know that.”
We were both hurt and affected by the death of someone who was only capable of hurting those who loved her.
“You don’t know if you will die either. No one knows that, boy. No one knows when you will leave this world. Yes, you will have a delicate surgery, I know, I fear for your health, but I trust in the Almighty. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”
“That confidence is what I don’t have as much as I want to be positive. The scenario David has given me is not good. I may go blind, even…”
“Your son is fine, and so is your wife. She went out to her sister’s. I sent her with Serafín. I think something is bothering her. She’s a little… quiet.”
“Thank you.” I know she changed the subject on purpose, and I can’t but thank her for that.
“Don’t torment yourself over what you can’t control. It’s no use.”
If there is one person capable of soothing my conscience, it is Donatella Mognon.
“How do you see Tatiana?” I’ve meant to ask her since last night, but I limited myself to talking to Dawson about his trip to Switzerland. The business we have there merited the presence of one of us this week. Because I have to undergo surgery, the only one who can replace me is him.
“What do you want to know, Darío? Are you wondering if she was a good choice as a wife? You should stop thinking of that girl as a disposable object.”
“I don’t think she’s an object,” I defend myself, annoyed, as I pull my feet up on the black ottoman in front of me.
The decor of the apartment is sparse. Shades of gray abound in the room, and I can’t say if that’s the case in the bedroom, as I haven’t entered it.
I don’t think I’m surprised by anything here. The walls look like a color-blind man painted them.
“You talk about her as if she is. What do you think of Tatiana?” she mimics my voice. “Do you think she’s a good mother for my son? Don’t be ridiculous, Darío! And yet, you are brilliant.”
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
“I’m sick and tired of watching you blindly give out sticks. You can’t live around the world like you don’t care about anything. It’s not fair for you to drag that poor woman into a marriage that won’t bring her happiness.”
“I’m a good catch.”
“A good catch, my ass. I don’t see you buying it.”
“Donatella!” I exclaim, taken aback by such words. Since when does that woman talk to me like that?
“You’re not seeing what’s right before your eyes. Between the two of you, there is something more, a connection I never saw you have with Mrs. Arianna. May her soul rest in peace.”
I grab the bridge of my nose and try to hold back the urge to scream at her that Arianna’s soul should be burning in the lava of hell. But I restrain myself. Donatella is a grown lady with sincerely held religious beliefs. It does me no good to express my hatred and resentment to someone who is no longer in this world.
“I have to make a snack. Call later so you can talk to your wife, so you can stop asking me what I think.”
“Who are you, and what did you do with Donatella?” I ask her with a chuckle.
“This is what you get. Deal with it. This is how I’m going to be with you from now on. It’s about time you dropped that facade of a hard, unfeeling man when we both know you care more about everything than anyone else.”
“So long, Donatella. Give my son a kiss.”
“Rest, Darío.” I hang up.
I feel like my worrying has stopped a little. It’s at times like this that we truly realize who we are counting on.
The sound of the door scares me a little. I’m not expecting anyone, and I didn’t tell Donatella my location either. I head to the foyer with the thought that it might be one of the building’s neighbors. Even though I will only be here for a week, or so I pretend, I don’t want them knocking on my door asking for sugar or salt.
The best thing to do is to tell the neighbor to go away and not knock again.
I have no intention of doing anyone any good blood.
I open the door and almost let out a curse when I see the person standing in front of me.
“Hello, brother. Did you think you were going to get through this alone?”