I would’ve sold my soul to have her by my side. We could’ve discussed the finer points of our professional endeavors over dinner each evening. We could’ve played with my daughter. I could’ve felt her warmth against me every night. I could’ve woken up with her every morning.
But that was nothing more than a pipe dream. A harmful one.
Separating myself from her felt worse than even I had anticipated. Alana had died, been ripped away from me against my will. There’d been no decision I could make that would change the course of those events.
Molly, however, was very much alive, and I’d chosen to end everything between us that mattered.
She stayed at the periphery of my life now, visible but unattainable. I’d cut her off like the dead limb of a tree when really, she’d been the roots. She’d been at the heart of that tree. At the heart of me.
I went through my days and nights in a daze, on automatic pilot. As the patriarch, I didn’t go on “errands” as I once had, so any outside issues of disloyalty or others infringing on our turf was dealt with by my brothers. I concentrated only on Anna’s care and keeping tabs on the various activities we were involved in.
It gave me fewer outlets for what had become a permanent bad mood.
So when I went to the gym one evening and found Molly on the floor of the running track with Gabriel standing over her, I nearly lost my mind. Well, there was no nearly about it. They were laughing, and as I stood there watching, my brother reached out for her hand, holding it in his as he pulled her to her feet.
“What the fuck is going on?”
My voice roared throughout the open space, surprising me and shocking them.
I couldn’t keep the images of when Molly had been here with me, on the floor with me, from crashing across my brain. Thinking of the two of them together like that made me want to bash my skull into the wall. Better yet, bash my half-brother’s skull into the wall.
I started to head towards Gabriel to do just that when he spoke, “Hey, bro. The queen here decided to start an exercise regimen. She asked me to be her trainer.”
He’d released her hand, his laughing expression freezing on his face before falling away altogether. Then, as I continued forward, he took a step back from her. I didn’t slow down, though, until I heard Molly’s voice.
“What’s your problem?” It had a bite to it, not the sarcasm she’d once used, but something more acerbic, more scathing. The sound of it brought me up short.
She stood there next to Gabriel, whiskey eyes flashing, hair up and exposing her creamy neck—a neck I’d once kissed and suckled—wearing a legging and spandex shirt combo that clung to her body like a second skin. She’d been smiling at my half-brother but as she’d focused on me, her expression changed into a sneer. The look in her eyes became pure ice. Pure disdain.
The caustic tone of her voice and the twisting of her features almost took me out at the knees. It’d been more effective than a bullet through my chest.
Only vaguely did I register my half-brother speaking, “Luca, you okay?” as I did an about-face and departed the gym. I couldn’t think. All I knew was I had to get out of there.
I went back to my bedroom, pushing my hands through my hair. Were they together now? Had she gone to him because what had been between us was over? Had she invited him into her room? Her bed?
I wanted to kill him, to tear him to pieces, but if Molly chose to be with someone else—even my half-brother—I couldn’t stop her. Well, I could. There’d been incidents in our history when adultery had led to murder. Or to the lovers involved simply disappearing. I’d heard the stories all my life. It’d even happened as recently as my father’s generation.
But I’d been the one to end my relationship with Molly. Me. So if she desired to pursue her own fulfillment and satisfaction with Gabriel, maybe I shouldn’t object. Even though I did object. In a very big way.
And then Gabriel’s voice came through my closed door. “Bro, can I come in?”
I didn’t want to see him, I didn’t want to think about him, especially not with Molly. I considered ignoring him, but he walked in without permission. I hadn’t thought to lock the door. My fists were clenching and unclenching, yearning to wrap around his throat. Seemed I wasn’t far enough removed from past generations, after all.
“Look, I don’t know what you think you saw…” he began, but I interrupted.
“Why her?”
“What?”
“Why her? Why Molly?” I growled out, not even sounding human.
“I didn’t. I wouldn’t. She’s yours, so I’m not going to…”
“She’s not mine. Not anymore.”
“Still, I wouldn’t…”
“You were touching her,” I accused him, but instead of backing away, he came closer. He sounded exasperated himself now.