Chapter 19
Lucy asked about Bianca when she was ten.
Not because anyone mentioned her.
Because a classmate did.
The girl’s older sister had searched the Romano name online.
Then told Lucy:
“Your dad almost married a woman who abused you.”
Lucy punched her.
Once.
Not hard enough to cause injury.
Hard enough for school discipline.
Vittorio arrived expecting anger.
He found Lucy crying instead.
“She said abused.”
Vittorio sat beside her.
“She should not have said that to embarrass you.”
“But true?”
He did not lie.
“Yes.”
Lucy looked at the floor.
“Dog bowl?”
“Yes.”
“Other stuff?”
“Yes.”
She had known pieces.
Not the full pattern.
At ten, Dr. Bell believed she could understand more.
So Vittorio told her.
The plastic plate.
The missing chair.
The closed breakfast-room door.
The nursery.
Emma’s complaints.
Marcus moving meetings.
Bianca asking Lucy to call her Mom.
He left out details that served no purpose.
Lucy listened.
Then:
“Why she want Mom?”
“Because she was going to marry me.”
“That doesn’t make Mom.”
“No.”
“Did you want me call her that?”
“No.”
“Did you know she asked?”
“No.”
Lucy looked angry again.
“Why didn’t you know?”
Same question.
Older voice.
More evidence behind it.
Vittorio answered the same way.
“I trusted people I should have questioned.”
“That sounds small.”
He stopped.
She was right.
It had become a phrase.
Accurate.
Too polished.
He tried again.
“I thought the house was safe because it was mine.”
Lucy watched.
“I thought people who worked for me would bring me serious problems.”
Another pause.
“I thought Marcus respected me enough not to use my schedule against me.”
He looked down.
“And when Bianca told me you were having trouble adjusting, I accepted that explanation because I thought adults around you were acting in good faith.”
Lucy became quiet.
“So you believed her.”
“Sometimes.”
“Not me.”
“I didn’t know what you were trying to tell me.”
“That’s not answer.”
Vittorio felt it.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“Sometimes I believed her explanation before asking for yours.”
Lucy’s eyes filled.
That was the answer.
Ugly enough to be useful.
“Why?”
“Because she was an adult.”
Silence.
“And because I loved her.”
Lucy looked hurt.
Vittorio continued before fear made him soften it.
“Loving her made me slower to imagine she could be cruel.”
“Did you love me more?”
Wrong question.
Understandable.
“I loved you differently.”
Lucy frowned.
“That sounds bad.”
“It isn’t a contest.”
“It was to her.”
“Yes.”
The distinction mattered.
Bianca had confused partnership with rank.
Lucy did not need Vittorio to repeat it by ranking love backward.
He said:
“She was wrong to treat you like competition.”
Lucy nodded.
Then:
“Did you stop loving her after?”
“Yes.”
Immediately.
Lucy thought.
“Because dog bowl?”
“Because of what she chose to do to you and what she chose to hide from me.”
That satisfied her more.
Not completely.
It did not need to.
That night she received two days of lunch detention for punching the classmate.
Vittorio did not interfere.
Lucy was furious again.
“You know why.”
“Yes.”
“Then why punishment?”
“Because understanding why you hit someone does not make hitting them acceptable.”
She stared.
“You hit Marcus.”
Vittorio closed his eyes.
Children were exhausting.
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“I was wrong too.”
May you like
Lucy hated that answer.
Mostly because it worked.
