Chapter 3 - The Mother Who Finally Asked Questions|
Elena drew the curtains before asking me to sit down.
“Did he send that car to follow you?”
“I don't know.”
“Has he done this before?”
I almost answered no. It was the automatic response, the one I'd used whenever someone asked whether Dante's temper frightened me.
Instead, I considered the question honestly.
“He has people check where I am sometimes. He says it's for my protection.”
Elena's expression tightened.
“Protection from whom?”
“His enemies. His business.”
“And have any of those people ever threatened you?”
“Not directly.”
“Then perhaps he has been using protection as an excuse to control you.”
I looked down at my hands.
I had never expected Dante's mother to say that. Elena had been raised in a family where wives were expected to stand beside powerful men and never question them publicly. She had spent decades protecting her son from the consequences of his own decisions.
“I don't want to turn you against him,” I said.
“Isabella, I am not a child who can be turned against someone by a single conversation. I know my son. I also know what it means when a woman begins making excuses for a man who keeps hurting her.”
She went to the kitchen and returned with tea.
“Tell me about the bedroom.”
I explained that Bianca's condominium had a burst pipe, that I had offered the guest suite, and that Dante had insisted Bianca sleep in our room. I admitted that what hurt most wasn't Bianca's presence. It was his certainty that he could decide where I belonged without discussing it with me.
Elena listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she placed her cup down.
“When I was young, my husband once asked me to give up my place at a family dinner so a business associate's wife could sit beside him. I did it. I told myself it was harmless.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened that evening. That's why I kept doing it. One small humiliation at a time, until I no longer noticed how often I was expected to disappear.”
She looked at me.
“I don't want that life for you.”
My eyes burned.
“I thought if I were patient enough, Dante would eventually understand how much I did for him.”
“He understands. He has simply become accustomed to receiving it.”
That sentence hurt because it was true.
At three o'clock, Dante called Elena. I could hear his voice from across the room.
“Mother, tell Isabella to come home.”
Elena put the phone on speaker.
“You can speak to your wife yourself.”
“I've been calling her all morning.”
“Have you asked if she's safe?”
A pause.
“Of course she's safe. She's with you.”
“That is not the same thing as asking.”
“Mother, this is between Isabella and me.”
“Then why are you asking me to make her return?”
Dante's voice sharpened.
“I'm not asking you to take sides.”
“You already took sides when you decided your wife could be moved out of her own bedroom to accommodate your ex-wife.”
“Bianca needed somewhere to stay.”
“There are six guest bedrooms.”
“That's not the point.”
“Then explain the point to me, Dante.”
He didn't answer.
Elena ended the call.
I sat frozen.
She had never challenged him like that in front of me.
“I'm sorry,” I whispered.
“Don't apologize for telling the truth.”
At five, Dante's car arrived. He came to the door alone, without his usual entourage. His dark coat was wet from the rain, and his face looked exhausted.
“Elena,” he said, “may I speak to my wife?”
His mother stepped aside but remained close enough to hear.
Dante turned to me.
“Get your bag. We're going home.”
I looked at him.
“Are you asking me to come home?”
His jaw tightened.
“Don't play games.”
“Then the answer is no.”
For the first time, I saw genuine surprise cross his face.
He had expected anger, perhaps tears, maybe an argument he could end with a command.
He hadn't expected me to refuse.
His eyes hardened.
“You're making a mistake, Isabella.”
“No,” I said softly. “I'm finally making a decision.”
He stared at me, then turned toward the door.
Before leaving, he looked back at his mother.
“You're making this worse.”
Elena's reply was immediate.
“No, Dante. I'm just no longer helping you make it look better.”
He walked out.
I thought that would be the end of the confrontation.
Then Elena's phone rang.
May you like
It was Lucy.
And the first thing Dante's daughter said was, “Grandma, Dad told me Mom is trying to destroy his marriage.”
