My spirit and drive had been shattered beyond repair. I was not the man I used to be. I was tired of being angry and sad at the same time.I hated how much I dwelled on the past. Jada had been part of my life for such a short period of time. The profound effect she had on me was astronomical. She truly was my soulmate. I was tied to her. Finding the people who killed her was one of my most important tasks until it wasn't. It led nowhere. Nothing became of it, like the people had disappeared, leaving a lone shooter who was long gone at this point.
I wasn't sure how I would go on with her without this mission. I had no motivation to do anything. I didn't care about the family business. I didn't care about trivial fights or business rules. I had previously stepped over anyone and everyone. I hurt people. I thought Jada had made me a better man. I truly thought I was changing. Only to realize nothing had changed. I was the same person the one time, but this time, I had something to lose. I fooled myself into thinking differently.
I felt like a shell of myself. Life flashed in moments and memories for a long while. It took me a long time to realize this. I don't think I ever knew who I was. I was a 36 year old man, and I had no idea who I was. It was almost comical how pitiful I found myself. I was my own worst enemy. Now, I just wanted to find some peace and calmness in my life. I barely deserved it, yet I paid for my sins and lived through the consequences of my own faults. My actions directly led to my own pain, I knew that now.
"Alessio, you need help," Lorenzo spoke up, I hadn't even noticed when he entered the office. I practically lived here at this point, but I had called him here for a reason.
"What is help going to do for me?" I asked him.
No one could magically bring her back. Death was not undone. You could not fix what was permanent. I could never go back and change anything. I was stuck with every choice I made, I had to somehow find peace in that.
"I'm done. Lucas is running things fine. Life is moving on fine without me. I want to be left alone," I told him, breaking the pause of silence.
"Man, don't give up like that," Lorenzo said.
I looked up at him. He had pity in his eyes. For me. For the first time, he looked at me like I was fragile. I wasn't going to literally end it all. I was just done with this lifestyle. Living a crimnals life was not for me. I didn't want to continue intot he same world that took everything from me. All that brought was pain, and it took away the one thing that meant the most to me. It stole my future. I didn't want this life. It did me no good. The silence was thick between us. He was more of a brother to me than even my own. Lorenzo always had my back, and I did his as well.
"I'll be leaving tomorrow. I'm heading back to Italy. That's the last place that felt like home," I stated flatly. The decision had already been made. I had made all my arrangements to go back home, to live a quieter life. I hoped I could figure out what I wanted. Distract myself even. Lorenzo looked down before back up.
"If that's what you think is best. I've always got your back, brother," he said.
His voice hung a level of sadness. I stood up from my desk and hugged Lorenzo for a moment.
"I'll see you later. You know me. I'll come out there to see you again," Lorenzo said.
I nodded. Lorenzo left without another word. I could tell he was shocked, but I couldn't drag him down with me either. If I ended up self destructing, at least I wouldn't pull him down any further than I already did. He would take care of me forever if I let him. Even if it felt like I was running away with my tail tucked between my legs, I tried not to think about it.
My spirit was broken, and maybe my motherland would help heal me and stop dwelling. I was powerless. I couldn't do anything to move on. My grief was so large that I doubt there was anything left of me. The hole in my heart was so large that I was unsure how my heart continued to beat, maybe out of spite. It didn't matter. Flying to my hometown, Tropea, was what I felt I needed. I felt called their. I had not been there in over 2 decades. I had to leave everything behind. All I would take would be a small carry-on, her necklace and her hankerchief made out of her wedding dress. It's all I would need. Everyone is this mansion had been dismissed, and it would be sold eventually. Tomorrow I'll start all over.
-
[10 months later]
Being back in Tropea was a bit strange, but the seasons were changing. Temperatures had dropped from the scorthing summer time, but humdity kept it from getting too cold. I kept busy with work, with long hours in the kitchen of a restaurant and lots of tourists. I foubd myself butting heads with many coworkers, and this being my third restaurant, I had planned to stay here longer than last time. I found it difficult to work under people, especially through stupidity. I would not be yelled at like some fool.
I often found myself menanderi g to the local bars. I lived on the edge of Tropea town, but I snagged up in a decent place for a good price. My mind still drifted to her, I had occationally wished to have been able to bring her here. It was difficult. I was unsure how to grieve, I was unsure how to process everything I was feeling. But I could work and not think about her. Recently, I could go a day or two without thinking about her. I wasn't drinking myself into a stupor anymore. It was a small improvement. I kept to myself and stayed out of trouble. I was a model Italian citizen.
"Alessio, why don't you and I go drinking together tonight?" Beatrice asked. She fluttered her pretty eyes as me as I cooked the chicken dish. Most of the waitresses flirted with me, but she was particularly persistent. She had long brown hair, always in a bun and tan skin from being in the sun often.
"Why?" I asked flatly.
"Okay, at least come out with the group of us. It'll be fun. We can finally get to know you. You barely say anything outside of short one word answers, " Beatrice said with a pout.
"Will you leave me alone after?" I asked.
"Yes, at least once before you say you hate us all," She said excitedly. Unlike other women, she kept her hands to herself. She was fairly kind to everyone. I just nodded. She squeeled. I finished up the chicken and slid it on her plate.
"Great! Thank you!" She said quickly, making her way out onto the floor. She was on the thicker side of an Italian woman, but I liked that about her. I wondered if I would ever pursue someone else. They would always be second place, almost cruel. But, maybe someone would be happy with that. Jada had been gone for around 7 months, but being somewhere else had helped to some extent. I didn't think too long about it before moving on to my next ticket. The calls of the chef filled my head with different commands to keep up with.
By the end of the shift, the whole crew was buzzing as we all piled up to the bar two streets down the road. Many people surrounded me, making conversation among ourselves. I didn't care much about what they had said. I figured getting this done would keep people at bay. I had worked here for almost a month, so staying here for this long was an accomplishment on my self-control. I felt tame. Things that pissed me off before did less than before. Our crew of about 10 servers, 6 cooks, and 2 mangers piled into the bar, opting to share 3 booths. We filled up this place as the volume in the once quiet bar raised. I sat on the edge, ready to leave. Beatrice managed to find a seat next to me.
"Not so awful, huh?" She said. I shrugged my shoulder. I had no feelings about this. We just walked over. It wasn't too late at a little past midnight. Everything almost felt normal. Our manager immediately ordered a round of Prosecco for everyone to cheer from the staff. I stopped the waitress.
"Just a negroni for me, please," I said. She smiled a goofy look at me but nodded and scurried off. I was not a fan of wines, so I didn't want to bother pretending to drink it. If I were here to drink, I would drink what I liked.
"That seems on par with you, tough guys drink," She said with soft giggles.
"Yeah, sterotypical of sorts," I responded. She nodded.
"Tell us about yourself, even just a little," My manger,Jacopo said loudly as all eyes came to me.
"I was born in Scilla, but I grew up here for the first couple years of my life. I spent most schooling years in America but recently moved back. That's it. Nothing interesting," I told them. I didn't enjoy being the center of attention, but this should help get people off my back.
"America finally drives you crazy," Jacopo asked. I just nodded. When I didn't say anything else, people began to talk amongst themselves again as we waited for our drinks. I was glad when my negroni was dropped off. Jacopo gave a short cheers and I was able to drink something tasty. I looked around for a while, mindlessly ignoring the background noise. Beatrice tapped on my shoulder softly.
"What finally brought you out with us? Am I something special," Beatrice asked me, leaning closer to me so she could be heard.
"No, just trying to make sure I don't get fired so easily this time," I responded. It was funny she thought she was anything special.
"You are nice and keep your hands to yourself, though," I added. She nodded.
I looked up as my eye happened to focus on the patrons walking past the bar. I noticed a black woman walk by as my heart seemingly skipped a beat. I only saw a short glimpse. I couldn't even process her face, but the skin looked fimilar. I stayed staring outside. I felt deja vu, like I had just seen Jada. That couldn't actually be her. She was the first black woman I had actually seen since getting here. Was I being crazy?
I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I quickly stood up and jogged out the door. I looked down the street, only seeing a man turn around the corner. I followed him, like a mad man, as that is the only way she could have gone. As I turned the corner, I saw the woman walking with another man. Why did she still remind me of her. Her hair was with a puff above her head, and I could not get a good look at her from the back. I stared as I watched her walk away, unsure if my mind was playing tricks on me. She kept getting farther and farther from me, but I didn't know if I was crazy. I let the woman walk away, though. I didn't say anything. I just watched her and the man walk away until they turned another corner.
"Alessio, are you okay?" Beatrice asked, I had not even noticed she walked up to me or followed me.
"Uh, yeah, it was nothing," I said.
"It clearly was something. You almost spilled your glass. You don't seem okay," She told me. I finally convinced myself to turn to her. I stepped into her personal space a little annoyed by her and intriged by her.
"Why do you care so much?" I asked. I towered over her when I stood this close to her.
"I'm worried. Is that a crime."
"I don't think you actually care. It's nothing that would make you feel good," I told her.
She held my gaze, which surprised me. I don't have a face that's very inviting. Not many people do this and not or long. She looked at me in antisciaption. I hated nosey people sometimes.
"Fine, you're so determined to know. A foreigner reminded me of my late wife. It's a fun reminder, right? " I said in a stale tone. Beatrice wanted to open up this box. She looked uncomfortable but didn't break my gaze, surprisingly enough.
"I'm sorry, did she recently pass?" She asked.
"Yes, over 6 months ago," I responded. Without asking, she brought me into a hug, pulling me down to her level. I didn't know what to do, it was strange. It was the first time someone had hugged me without asking. I didn't push her away, but I didn't hug her either. I waited till she was done. When I looked back at her, she had tears in her eyes, which confused me even more.
"Why are you crying," I asked.
"I'm sorry for your loss. I remember what that feels like," SHe admitted. She lost her spouse?
"I lost my husband 5 years ago. I had a feeling you were holding something really big. You had the same dull face I used to have," Beatrice told me. It was surprising. I forgot other people have lost spouses, like they didn't exist. Like I was the only person hurting in this world from this.
"I'm sorry for your loss as well," I told her.
"Eventually, you smile again. You don't even notice it. I guess you came to escape the reminders," Beatrice added. I nodded. I had never met anyone who could have any idea the pain I was feeling, and it was strangely comforting. I did not understand this woman, though. It seems like she could identify me from a mile away, empathy of sorts.
"You had no alternative motives, I dont believe that for second," I told her as she moved closer. She backed up until she was up against the wall of the building. She looked nervously as she looked away from my eyes. When she didn't still respond, I knew I was right.
"That's what I thought. You should steer clear from me. I'm a grieving asshole. I'm only going to break your heart," I warned her. She met my eyes cautiously.
"I'm also a grieving asshole. You just have a similar demanor to my my husband. I don't mind a mutal level of using one another," She told me. This woman was very strange, grief liek this seems to distort people.
"Yeah, maybe," I said, stepping away from her. A part of me wanted to have sex, to pretend it was Jada. Beatrice looked nothing like her. She didn't really act like her either. I was scared to touch someone else. It still felt like cheating strangely enough as it was.
"Here," I said, handing her a 50 Euro bill, "have a good night, Beatrice."
Tonight was strange, seeing a woman who reminded me Jada. I was offered a widow who would use me the same way I would use her. It was an easy land, but I didn't. I couldn't. I had to see that woman who walked past me. The aura she gave off reminded me of Jada. I wouldn't do anything, but seeing her would ease my mind. My brain was going crazy by the idea she was still alive. It was insane to think so. It was my mind clinging to anything that reminded me of her. I knew it was crazy to think, but I had to confirm. I had the day off tomorrow, so I could at least spend the day hoping to see this mystery woman in her eyes.
-
I had not seen the mystery woman in over a week. I hung around the 2 or 3 street area, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, to confirm her face, but it was no use. It was driving me a bit mad. The irrational part of me wanted to believe she was here. The logical side just wanted to quell this doubt in my head. I found myself second-guessing Jada being cremated. I doubted Moore's excuse of wanting to end their daughters' suffering quickly. I wanted to interview and get the truth from the doctors. I left my old phone and contacts in my old office draw in storage for Lorenzo to find out if he needed it. I had no route back to the people I once knew, but Lorenzo, who would be the voice of reason. I didn't want to give up my crusade to find this mystery woman. So I kept my stalker like behavior to myself and hoped to catch the woman before she went back to her home. I just needed confirmation. It was late, at the same bar my coworkers took me previously. I stared out the door and window, waiting to see a ghost or something. I had gone mad clearly, but luck had to be on my side this time. My bad luck could not succeed again. I gazed down, then back up, seeing the same black woman with a large afro walk pass, unable to see her face. she walked quickly. I dropped a 100 Euro quickly and bolted out the door, jogging to catch up to her.
"Excuse me, ma'am," I said in English. The woman stopped and turned to me as I slowed down my pace. She looked angry for a moment and then relaxed her face. It clearly wasn't the ghost of my wife. I was a black woman with beautiful curly hair. She looked nothing like Jada. Darker skin with a cool undertone. She was much shorter as much and slender in frame. The strange woman had to look up at me. She looked like the woman I had seen a week ago, though. My heart dropped, but I had to have known this outcome. Why would I ever get my hopes up.
"Um, hi," the woman said in a soft voice.
"Hi, I just wanted to say you look beautiful tonight. Sorry to bother," I told her, trying to dodge any further conversation. She let out a soft giggle.
"Thank you," She said. I nodded, waved goodbye, and left back. I passed the bar and went straight home. I was disappointed, even though I already knew the answer. I still had hoped that Jada was here. That she was somehow alive. That she had somehow made it. As I made my way past the bar, I heard someone call my name. I looked up and saw Beatrice waving with a bright smile, carefree. She was at least happy. She had some women with her dressed in a simple black mini dress that clung to her. She stopped for me and shooed her friends away.
"You look pale. Did you drink too much?" she asked as my eyes scanned her outfit up to her face.
"Is your offer still on the table?" I asked. She looked taken aback by my comment but composed herself as I watched her cheeks turn slightly red. She finally reminded me of my wife. The way she blushed.
"Yeah, like right now?" She asked.
"If you're free," I said. She looked around, thought for a moment before nodding her head. I grabbed her hand and led her to the local hotel to see if they had any free room. If I could forget about Jada, for a while. I could be less on edge. I could be happier. I didn't need reminders of her here, too. I just needed a break. Maybe this fellow widow could teach me a thing or two about the reminder or even bring me back to a better time before I lost her.
I woke up alone in bed the next morning, feeling groggy. I had spent an absurd amount of money for this tourist trap of a hotel, but it did the job for the night. This was not Beatrice's first time having meaningless sex. It didn't feel the same. It reminded me of her, but at least I could close my eyes and see her face without feeling shameless. I had this hotel for 2 nights, and mostly, it would go to waste, though. I had work this evening. For now, I could lounge around the beach. It wasn't as busy this time of year as Winter approached closer and closer. I got dressed and grabbed my room key and wallet before heading down the elevator and to the lobby. It was early on the morning, quiet. I headed toward the lobby, hoping to find a coffee shop nearby.
"Good morning!" I heard a muffled woman's voice call cheerily.
"Good morning!" I greeted as she popped her head out of the door she had peeked into. Another black woman, what are the odds. I looked down at my phone in my hands. The lobby was empty this early in the morning, I preferred it this way. I opened up my message from Beatrice to see why she was so quick to leave me alone. There was suddenly a loud crash, startling me. I looked to the broken vase and flowers on the ground, then up at the woman who had dropped them from outside the office door. We both made eye contact with one another frozen in place. My heart beat so fast and so hard I thought I might pass out. I couldn't avert my gaze away. I didn't even recognize her voice, but her face had been etched into heart. I could never forget her.
"Jada?"
A/N
Thank you to everyone who had read to the end. I appreciate every reader. What did you think. Criticisms are welcome. I've finished my book, so I'm at least proud of myself.
Would you be interested in an epiloge? I've attempted one with some luck.