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He knew what kind of job he had, still he took the risk of finding a lover, then a wife and finally a mother.
But her final fate had nothing to do with his job. She was a civilian. A kind woman in her mid-20’s. In the Italian summer of 2001, she stood by the docks of his hometown, watching the boat and the days go by.
He remembers. He remembers going out for a walk one day as the new Don of Passione, Giorno Giovana, had instructed him to do so as he seemed overworked. He remembers a clumsy woman who accidentally dropped her art materials and they both reached to pick it up and that their hands brushed against one another.
He remember her first words to him
---
“I’m sorry!”
And he chuckled under his breath. He opened his mouth to say something, but somehow he was speechless and transfixed on the way she looked. From the simple tank top she wore to her jeans then to her hair that was messed up by the wind, he was enchanted.
Then he notices something, a lovely shade of pink that painted over his white jacket. He mentally laughs. It’s as if the color represented what he feels right now. The woman’s eyes widened in pure shock as she dropped her materials to the side, gently this time. One of her paints stained his clothes.
God knows how much it must’ve cost him.
“Oh no! Oh nononono-“
He raises his hand and waves it a bit. Should I be angry? He asked himself for a while.
“Ah! Please I am so very sorry! I am willing to pay to have it cleaned and-“
“No please, it is very much all right! No harm done, as you can see” he gave her a soft smile. And her cheeks became the same shade of pink on his stained clothes.
“But- Your clothes are ruined because of me! God, at least let me wash it for you!” she stammered. The blush still remained on her cheeks, as did Bruno’s.
---
The rest of you were a blur as Bruno was coming back from a fond memory. The wine bottle seemed all to heavy despite it being empty.
Unlike the rest of his peers, he wasn’t much of a heavy drinker. He drinks only for fun, whenever he had his closest friends around. But for today and these past few weeks, he felt like changing the rules a bit.
There were at least two empty by his side now and the third one is well on it’s way. A soft clink had him look down to his fingers.
Their wedding band.
His heart ached and he felt his stomach drop, as if someone punched a hole in it. This time, he let his tears fall out and run down his cheeks.
How long has it been? Since he last felt your loving touch? Since he last heard those three words he loved so much? He can’t remember. He needs to forget, to move on but he doesn’t want to.
You took a piece of him when you left.
But in return, you left something for him. A constant reminder of your love for him and his love for you. A small and pinkish baby, no older than 2 months old.
He wants to look at his own son, raise him and cherish him as his own father did. Alas, it came with a draw back. It reminds him too much of how he lost you.
---
He was back in his hometown, this time with the woman who had accidentally got her paint to stain his jacket (which was still there). He had one of his hands on the small of her back he lead her to his childhood home. It was smaller than he remembered.
He carefully watched for her reaction, any hint of disgust or resentment but still his expectations were wrong as she smiled at him fondly and held his hand.
“Oh, it’s so lovely, Bruno!” He felt his heart swell with love. If the pink paint stain on his jacket could somehow magically double in size, it would have by now to reflect his feelings.
“It feels very cozy too! And the view-“ she pushed open the old windows. Outside, the sun was about to set by the sea and gave a beautiful hue of oranges and pink to accentuate her and the swell of her stomach
“Is to die for! Oh!!! Our son will love this!” she swooned.
“I’m glad you love it” he smiles. She smiles and they share a long and loving kiss.
“I love you” she whispered against his mouth as they part.
“I love you too…” his hand rests on top of her stomach “and you as well” he adds. He feels a small kick and they both giggle.
“He’s saying I love you too!”
Unexpectedly, after a few months a storm had come and at the same time she was in labour. For almost 13 hours and she was screaming in pain. As you would expect from being a capo, he was calm and collected. He needed to be, for her. Buried somewhere in the back of his brain, the fear of losing the both her and the baby lingered.
The storm was strong and the road to the nearest hospital was blocked by heavy rain water and traffic. There was no way his family would make it there in time. So he calls for the local midwife in his town to help with the birth.
When the time came for his son to come, he was shooed out of the room by three older women. He was biting his nails and he was bouncing his feet as the storm continued to rage outside. When the thunder clapped, she screamed in pain. He was sure that her scream was louder.
After what seemed like an eternity, he hears a sharp cry. The world just stopped for him and all he could hear was his heartbeat. Instinctively, he moved towards the room. From the day he met her, he was transfixed again.
Despite the sight and scent of blood, he was unfazed. His eyes were only set on his wife on the bed his son on her chest.
He kneels beside her bedside to drink in the sight of her. He holds her free hand and runs his other in her hair. Damp and clumped up due to the sweat she exerted when she gave birth.
“You’re so gorgeous, tesoro mio. So gorgeous.” The tears in his eyes didn’t stop flowing.
“Thank you! I love you so much! Oh, you’ve done such a wonderful job!” He peppers her forehead with kisses and she felt one of his hot tears drip onto her cheek.
She smiles at him and uses her head to gesture to the small bundle of joy on her chest. He takes his hand off of her hair and runs a finger down to the smooth cheek of his son.
“Hello” he whispers.
Suddenly, her eyelids began to droop down. Her smile is fading away as he grip on his hand loosened.
“I’m sorry, Bruno” was she was able to muster up to say. His eyes widened and he calls for the three midwives.
It felt all too surreal. He was now on his feet as he watched the three older women scurry around. His own child was ripped from his wife’s chest as they push him out of the room.
The storm continued to rage on outside and it perfectly mimicked what he felt.
---
He was standing outside a room that was built for a baby. The light from the hallway had shone behind him and he swallows his saliva. He feels weak all of the sudden as he drops the empty bottle of wine to the side.
Under the moonlight, in a crib there was a small baby. He was squirming in his bed as he cries for his father.
Bruno was scared. He picks up the baby with caution and he stares at him for a while. It continued to squirm in his hold as he presses his son to his chest. He hums a soft tune that reminded him of his childhood as he rocks the child gently. Finally, the baby calms down and watches his own father with two bright eyes.
This was all that was left of you. A perfect reminder of how much you loved him. He swears under his breath, he’ll protect his son, your son.
His own family that he made with you.