I noticed he was somewhat distracted by my responses, so despite my fear, I continued needling him.
“You won’t get anything from me, Pa. I won’t give you money. I know you won’t leave me alone even if I give you what you want. You won’t get anything from me-”
“Damn you!”
I saw an opportunity to grab the gun from him. It wasn’t easy because he had a tight grip on it, and it was clear he had no intention of letting go.
“Let it go, Millie! You’re a damn troublemaker! You’ve always been one!”
I wasn’t hurt by the words he hurled at me because Gio’s words hurt more.
The gun went off accidentally when I struggled to take it from him. The bullet hit the car roof. My father cursed because of the mishap, but we were still wrestling for control of the gun.
We heard a loud honk from a truck. I realized we were in the wrong lane, and my father hadn’t noticed because we were too preoccupied with the gun.
He let go of the gun and grabbed the steering wheel. I almost felt relieved by what happened, but then I noticed he couldn’t control the car.
“Papa!” I screamed as we crashed into a broken road barrier, and the car plummeted into the abyss.
I closed my eyes and felt the strong impact as the car fell into the sea.
I was tossed around in my seat, and I let go of the gun. My head hit the dashboard. I felt dizzy, but I wouldn’t allow myself to lose consciousness.
I weakly reached for the door, but I couldn’t open it due to the water pressure. Only my head remained above water, with very little space left. I took deep breaths until I felt my entire body engulfed in water.
I attempted to open the door even though I had very little strength left. I felt my father pull me, and when I looked at him, he slammed my head against the car window. The impact was strong, even stronger than the hit on the dashboard earlier. Somehow, I saw the window had cracked due to the impact.
That’s when my strength completely left me. I released the breath I had been holding, and in the end, I struggled to breathe slowly.
My vision blurred, and darkness slowly enveloped my surroundings. I gasped for air, hearing my ears pop as I descended further beneath the sea, still trapped in the car.
With my last breath, there was only one person on my mind, the one I remembered.
Gio.
And then, everything went black.
~***~
[GIOSEFFO]
“Gio, what have you done?” I whispered to myself, squeezing my hand tightly after hearing Millie’s words. She ran out after I mentioned annulment, a decision I soon regretted upon hearing her response.
Initially, I thought it would be best for her. I believed that by setting her free, I could shield her from all the potential tragedies because I was her husband. However, that wasn’t the case. I now know, without a doubt, that I can’t live a single day without her. My selfishness led me to hurt the person I wanted to protect the most. I wanted to protect her so much that I was willing to let her go to live a peaceful life. I loved her so deeply that I was ready to sacrifice my life to ensure her safety, so she wouldn’t have to worry about anyone trying to harm her. But here I am, repeatedly causing pain to the woman I love. I seem to always hurt the people I cherish and hold dear. They are the ones who always slip away from me.
I quickly left the room to catch up with Millie and explain to her that I didn’t mean what I said. I wanted to tell her I was sorry, even though I knew my words couldn’t undo the pain I’d caused. I hurt her so much that I deserved her hatred. She didn’t deserve my thoughtless words.
I initially thought that my position would ensure Millie’s safety, which is why I took the risk of marrying her, even though I knew I shouldn’t have. But her life became even more chaotic because of the position I held. I bit my lip forcefully, wondering why I always push away those I love, thinking I can’t protect them, and believing that I would lead them to their demise.
Oh, right, because I deserve to be alone. The more dearly I hold someone, the more they slip away from me. Just as I suspected, I shouldn’t have plucked a flower like Millie from her garden. Because of me, she will wither. I should have let her be and not been so selfish, relying on a life with her. But what can I do? I love her so much, and yet I’ve hurt her now.
I closed my eyes; the pain and darkness made me remember everything. Gioseffo.
That’s the name given to me by my mother, a woman I haven’t seen yet. I have a twin sister, Gianna. Some of my relatives call me Gio, a shortened version of my name, a nickname I don’t really care about.
They say my name means king or ruler, fitting for someone who will one day lead our organization and become the head of the family. Even at a young age, I felt the weight of the obligations and responsibilities that would be passed on to me, all because I am the firstborn and the son of Agatone Locatelli.
I grew up without a mother by my side, and my father was rarely around. I longed for the love of my parents because, as I mentioned earlier, my mother wasn’t with us, and my father was often absent, leaving us siblings in the care of relatives.
When we were with Dad, he had only one thing to show us – a photograph of our mother. I still remember him saying, “This is your mother.” I stared at the picture before looking at Dad. He seemed emotionless, and as we grew up with him, I felt like we were becoming more like him, especially Gianna. Compared to my younger sister, I could communicate more with him. But whenever I saw her sitting alone and not mingling with others, I would stop socialising to accompany her. It was just the two of us, and we shouldn’t leave each other alone.
“Where is she?” I couldn’t help but ask my father about Mommy’s whereabouts.
People who saw Gianna and me said we were special. They claimed we were smart, even at a young age, speaking well at an early age, as if our minds developed rapidly.
“She’s… somewhere far,” Dad sighed. He was always like this when Mommy was the topic of discussion. He appeared troubled and restless, clearly missing and sad.
“Why wasn’t she here?” I kept bombarding Dad with questions, and he would answer, but often with a curt reply, as if he were forced to respond to silence us.
“Right now, she can’t be with us.”
“Why?” I had many questions about why we were growing up without a mother. Didn’t she love us, or did she not want to be with us? Dad never explained that to us; he just said there was a reason.
Dad didn’t neglect us, but I felt the lack of parental care for us siblings. Gianna and I felt like we were taking care of each other, even though there were people looking after us. For us, it was different when it was our own parents there for us.