Alek

Chapter 26: Alek Russo

Chapter 26: Alek Russo

I haven't visited Matteo's grave since the incident.

Promise me that whatever happens, you won't forget me. No matter where you are or where you go.

He'd only asked me for one thing, and I couldn't even give him that.

As Mae rests in her bedroom in my father's horrible large mansion, I make my way to the graveyard. I have the route memorized by heart, though I've only been there once.

After Matteo's funeral, my father made us leave for Italy. No matter how many times I begged him to let us bury Matteo in Italy beside our mother, he refused.

"It's too late," he'd said. "Dispiace (sorry), Alek. It's time to go."

That motherfucker was never sorry. He was not sorry when he left me, Matteo and my mama to fend for ourselves and he wasn't sorry when mama died.

He wasn't sorry that Matteo was dead either.

It's horribly foggy today and the wind is cool. I am in my black button-up shirt, and I've left the top buttons slightly opened to feel the breeze. I've dressed formally to visit my brother, a sign of respect. And I respect him greatly.

I am surprised to find Lorenzo sitting at Matteo's grave, twirling a rose in between his hands. He does not look up nor does he get to his feet when I slowly approach him and I have to lightly pat his shoulder to make him move over to give me space.

We sit side by side silently, the long line of graves surrounded by a slight fog that is making my spine tingle. I brush a lock of black hair from my face and clench my jaw.

Matteo Russo. A loving brother and son.

There's nothing else engraved on his tombstone.

"It's been three years," Lorenzo says hoarsely and has to clear his throat before continuing. "Three years since you've finally visited him."

I am quiet. I make no excuses.

We are quiet once more, silently staring at the smooth stone as the cool breeze brushes through our hair.

Finally, Lorenzo opens his mouth and asks me a question that makes my heart stop.

"Do you hate me?" he asks quietly, eyes cast down at the rose in his hands. "Do you hate me because papa had me?"

My entire body goes still and I feel myself stop breathing. Is this what he thinks?

"Enzo," I whisper, turning my brother's face towards mine. "Don't you ever fucking think like that, you hear me? Don't you ever. I love you, Lorenzo. You're the best thing that has come out of this entire ordeal and I would never-"

"If Papa hadn't left you, Matteo and your mom to get mama pregnant, none of this would have happened. He wouldn't love you and Matteo less and they would probably be alive," there is a sadness in Lorenzo's eyes and I can tell by the look on his face that this thought has been living with him for a very, very long time.

I grab his shoulders to force him to look into my eyes, "Listen to me, Lorenzo. None of this was your fault, do you understand? It has always been Papa's fault. Always. My mother's death was no ones, and it's taken me a long time to accept this. When I was being born, my mother went through some difficulty and her heart stopped, giving her heart problems and there was nothing me or Matteo could have done. But papa could have. He could have stayed by her side and paid for the doctors instead of ignoring her health, but he didn't. But it doesn't matter because you know what? My mother's death was inevitable. She had a short time to live.