Chapter 25

There were birds chirping outside the window, and a soft light before my closed eyelids. The house was cool and calm, and I opened my eyes and looked around. I had returned to lying on my back during the night. The living room was brightening with the morning light, and Piero was laying back in a recliner across the room, with his legs crossed in front of him and his head leaning on his fist on the arm of the chair. He was still wearing his glasses, which made me think that he was trying to keep watch over me. I yawned and quietly watched him for a while, as the light in the room slowly brightened. I was surprised when there was a low growling in my belly. I guess Piero was right. I really was hungry. He had told me to wake him, but he just looked so sweet and tired. He had done so much already trying to take care of me. I decided to let him rest for a while.

I still felt weak, but perhaps the food would help with that later. I also had a dull, constant pain throughout my body. I tried to breathe deeply, and there was a sharp pain in my ribs. I gasped weakly and tried to breathe more slowly. I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but the hunger in my belly refused to leave me alone. I attempted to ignore it, and opened my eyes when I head the recliner creak. I watched Piero stretch and yawn. He moved his head and leaned it back against the chair, letting his hands fall into his lap. A bird called just outside the window, and Piero reached up a hand to rub his eyes under the glasses. Then he blinked against the morning light and looked over at me, seeing me watching him.

"Good morning," he said softly, and I smiled. "How did you sleep?"

"Very well, probably thanks to the medicine. How about you?"

"Fine, I guess. I kept waking up to make sure you're okay."

I held out my hand weakly toward him, and he immediately got up from the rocker and came over to kneel beside me. I stroked his hair and his cheek and looked into his eyes.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Weak. But also hungry."

His eyes lit up.

"So you'll eat now?"

I nodded, and he quickly got up to go to the kitchen.

"Is breakfast soup okay?" he asked, and I said it was.

He brought a bowl and pulled up the coffee table. I braced myself for him to prop me up to eat, which he did with gentle practice.

"Did you sleep on the recliner all night?" I asked as I ate, and he nodded. "You didn't have to do that," I said, and he shook his head.

"I want to be close to you while you're so weak, to be able to keep watch over you and to be close if you need anything."

"When I get a little stronger, I want you to move to your bed," I said. "You can leave me sometimes. I'll be okay being alone for a while."

"I don't know," he said, "…if I want to leave you during the night. But I was wondering if I could leave you for a bit today to go over to your house and pick up some of your things."

"Like what?"

"Well, for one thing, you're still wearing my clothes from Friday. I thought you might want your pajamas, and bath stuff, and you know, the necessities of having an extended sleepover."

I smiled, and accepted the spoonful he offered me.

"I can't guarantee that I'll be able do things yet, but I can try, at least," I said.

"Don't try if it hurts too much. Just rest. I'm only getting your things for if you want them. I'm not intending for you strain yourself."

"Thank you, Piero."

"Of course, mi amor."

I ate half a bowl of soup for the third time, and felt strangely full, despite the small amount I had eaten. Eating while I felt so weak and pained was a struggle anyway. Piero gave me a piece of bread to nibble on for a while, and encouraged me to keep at it. I felt groggy and my head felt cloudy, but I nibbled sleepily as I watched Piero make and eat his own breakfast.

While he washed the dishes, my mind started to wander, and I thought about the present arrangement, my mother, and Ray…And eventually I began to think of other, more routine things…

"Piero!?" I asked loudly, my eyes widening.

"Yes?" he asked from the kitchen.

"What day is it today?"

"Monday. Why?"

"Oh, no! I've got to get to work!"

"Wait! What!?"

I threw the blanket off of me, cast aside the piece of bread on the coffee table, and tried to push myself up as Piero sprinted over the couch.

"No no no no no!" he said rapidly, coming up beside the couch and putting a hand firmly on my middle to stop me from attempting to get up. "You can't go to work today!"

"I have to!" I protested. "Those little ones need me, Piero!"

"You are in no condition to go anywhere!"

"It doesn't matter! I have to go to the children's hospital! I have to be there for the children!"

"Julia, please stop!" he begged as I tried to weakly push myself up again. "You can't go to work! Not today, not tomorrow, not-"

"Piero!"

"Julia, you can't-!"

"Piero, listen to me!" I said, and he quieted, keeping his hand cautiously on my middle.

"I love those little ones, and I have to try to go to work. It can't be too bad to work while I'm hurt, right? I can manage. At least the children will be happy! I have to get up and go to work today! Please!"

He watched me quietly, thinking, then slowly moved back from the couch.

"Okay."

I watched him, confused, surprised that he relented so quickly. I slowly began to push at the sofa with my good hand, struggling out of my reclined position. Pain sharpened throughout my back, and I groped at the back of the couch with my bandaged hand, which made me cry out in pain and fall back on the pillow. I gasped and then winced as the pain increased in my ribs.

I reached out desperately to Piero.

"Help me?" I gasped, trying not to cry.

His face was strangely expressionless, but he obediently reached out a hand in front of me, and I took it with my good hand. He slowly pulled me up into a sitting position, and pain shot through me.

"Wait!"

He immediately released me.

I stayed still for a few moments, fighting the pain and trying to summon my will to continue. I slowly turned sideways on the couch and sat facing the front door. I took a deep preparatory breath, and then winced at the pain in my ribs. I balled my hand into a fist in frustration at the pain coursing through me. Piero was silently watching me from beside the couch.

I counted to three, and then quickly stood up before I could be afraid. My head immediately began to spin, and the world slanted in front of me as I was overcome with dizziness. My back screamed, and my ribs were sore from simply breathing. I groped for something to lean on and found nothing. I felt faint and already tired, but I willed myself to take a step forward. I extended my foot and realized too late that it was my forgotten sprained foot.

I cried out in pain and went hurtling toward the merciless ground, and was immediately caught up in the strong arms of Piero. I clung to him and cried as agony and dizziness washed over me.

"Easy now…Easy…"

He held me tightly and securely in his arms, and when the world stopped spinning I could see the anguished expression on his face and the tears on his cheeks.

"Please don't do that again," he choked out, and I nodded weakly as I desperately tried to regain my breath. I silently pleaded for the pain to end. Tears ran down my cheeks onto his shirt, and I was trembling. He held me close as the agony returned to its normal pain, then brought me back to the couch. He carefully bent over to lower me down, gently placing me on the soft cushions, and then crouched beside me with his arm around me while I calmed down. I clung to his shirt as he leaned close to me and kissed my temple, my cheeks, and finally my lips. He got up to prop up my foot on a pillow and drape the blanket back over me.

"Here," he said, taking the medicine bottles and dispensing the pills. He reached his arm around me and helped me take them, then gently laid me back down. "I'm sorry I let you do that," he said, "I just thought maybe it would make you understand."

I nodded weakly.

"Piero?" I asked tiredly, "Can you bring me a pen and paper?"

"Of course."

He left and brought me back a notepad. He sat on the arm of the sofa and watched as I tried to write. My wrist was weak and shaky, and I did my best at scribbling down a list of names. I tore out the page and handed it to Piero.

"What's this?" he asked, taking it and reading over it in confusion.

"A list of names of all the children I see at the hospital. If I can't go to work for a while, then they need to know. I need you to go to every last child and tell them that I love them, I'm thinking of them, I miss them, and I'll be back as soon as I can. Tell them to be good and listen to the doctors for me. Will you go and do that for me, Piero?"

"Yes, I will. But Julia, are you okay with staying here by yourself while I go and do this? It might take awhile, and I'm nervous about leaving you for so long. I could call Gianluca or Ignazio to stay with you."

"I'll be fine. Just make sure the door is locked, okay?"

He looked at me worriedly.

"I need you to go to the hospital more than I need you with me right now," I said.

He nodded.

"If this is what you want me to do, then I'll do it. I'll be back as soon as I can."

He tucked the list into his pocket and leaned over to tenderly kiss me and promise again that he'd be back soon, and then he left.

I was left alone in Piero's house, and recollections of my last night at my house flooded my mind, images of my room twisted in front of me as I was hoisted into the air, images of the wall slamming into my head, images of Ray's face twisted in the darkness as he reached for me…

Memories of the fresh pain and terror filled my mind, and I started to tremble and cry in fear. I squirmed on the couch and desperately tried to forsake the images, but they refused to dissipate. I focused on breathing, in and out, in and out, despite the pain in my ribs. I longed to have Piero beside me, so I didn't have to acknowledge these memories alone.

My eyes darted fearfully about the room, always returning to the front door as if awaiting Ray's entrance, though I knew he had been arrested. I was glad Piero had gone to the children at the hospital, but I hoped he wouldn't be away too long.

My head ached badly from both the concussion and from the memories as I closed my eyes and tried to block out my lonely surroundings. I eventually fell into a restless sleep. I was exhausted from my attempt to go to work, but I kept waking from nightmares of Ray coming toward me, and each time I looked desperately around for Piero, only to find that he was gone.

The sound of the front door opening jarred me awake from yet another nightmare, and I jumped and jerked my head in the direction of the door.

"Piero!" I cried in anguish, instantaneously thrusting out my arms for him. When he saw my face, he dropped the box he was holding and sprinted toward me. He sat carefully beside me on the couch and bent over me, gently slipping his arms around my back to hold me. I reached up and clung to his shirt as he kissed me.

"Are you okay? Are you in pain? Tell me what's wrong!"

"I can't stop thinking about that night," I whispered fearfully, "And it's scary."

"You're alright," he said soothingly, running his hand up and down my arm in an attempt to calm me. "You're safe here, I promise. I won't let anything hurt you. Do you want to tell me what you're thinking? The memories you're seeing? Maybe it'll help if you share them with me."

I nodded, and one by one described to him the images that flashed before my mind. Voicing them brought fresh pain to my mind, but I wasn't alone in sifting through them. Piero was there, listening, willfully taking part in the horror that I was recounting. His face was anguished, but he encouraged me again and again to keep going. He held me tightly and rubbed my arms and leaned into me to softly kiss my neck. He was trembling, and I reached up and held my arms around his back. I pulled his face close to me so I could kiss him, and eventually my gallery of images ran dry.

Everything haunting me had been spoken and acknowledged, and Piero and I rested in silence for a while, thinking. The silence of the house was no longer threatening and empty now that Piero was there. Everything was filled with his presence, and he scared away all the danger that crept around me in his absence. My arms were around his back, my palms pressed against his shirt to keep him close to me. His arm was wrapped around my shoulders, and the other he used to carefully hold himself up, keeping his weight off of me. He stayed bent over me for several minutes, until he finally sat up, slowly pulling out of my arms.

"Julia," he said softly, reaching down to stroke my hair, "All those memories are phantoms of the past. They can't hurt you, so they're trying to make you afraid that they can. They're telling you that it's possible for you to get hurt again."

He opened his hand in front of me, and I placed my hand in it. He held it tightly against my middle, and his eyes were firm and sure of his words.

"You're not going to get hurt again. You are safe. I won't let anything happen to you. Ray will go to jail, you will heal, and you'll be able to live without the threat of being abused. It's time for those phantoms to die. It might not be today, or tomorrow, but eventually those phantoms will have to accept that they are powerless."

"They're easier to deal with when you're here," I whispered. I reached up and touched his face, and he smiled. "When I see you I feel… protected."

He leaned down to kiss me.

"I will do anything to protect you."

He gazed down at me for a moment, then leaned down to kiss me again.

"I love you, Julia."

"I love you, too."

He brushed the back of his hand lovingly against my cheek.

"So I guess you couldn't sleep very well through all those memories, while I was gone. You must be so tired."

I realized that I was exhausted, and recounting the memories had given me a dull headache. I nodded weakly, and Piero moved from sitting on the edge of the sofa to kneeling beside it, resting his head lightly beside me on the pillow.

I rested my hands over my sore ribs and allowed my eyes to close. Piero rested his hand on top of mine, and I was comforted by his presence beside me.

"Oh!" he said suddenly. "You need to eat."

"Later?" I asked tiredly. "Please?"

He was quiet, but then he kissed my cheek.

"Fine. Later. Promise?"

"I promise."

This time I had no trouble falling asleep, especially when Piero began to sing softly, "Smile, and maybe tomorrow…you'll see the sun come shining through…for you…"

The doorbell rang, and I awoke with a start and looked fearfully around the room. Piero was still kneeling beside the sofa, dozing, leaning on his hand with his eyes closed, and he opened them and looked over at the door, then back at me.

"Relax," he said soothingly. "You're fine."

He got up from his knees and went to the window, peering out at the figures behind the door. He stood and watched them, and didn't move to let them in. The doorbell rang again, and whoever was behind it pounded their fist on it.

I winced and reached a hand to my aching head.

Piero watched me and then sighed in frustration.

"I'm sorry, Julia. It's the police. They came to talk to you. I tried to hold them off for as long as I could, but they came anyway. Should I tell them you need to rest?"

I sighed, but then smiled encouragingly at Piero.

"That's okay. It shouldn't take long, right? If I don't talk to them now, I'll have to talk to them later."

"I just didn't want you to be disturbed today. I wanted you to rest," he said as he went over the door and grudgingly opened it.

He let in two policemen in their uniforms. I felt very self-conscious, wearing Piero's clothes and lying on the sofa in a blanket, and I wished they would leave. They greeted Piero and me, and pulled up chairs to the sofa to begin asking their questions. Piero sat on the arm of the couch, stiffly observing the two men as he tenderly stroked my hair. I recounted the entire story of my relations with Ray, from the very beginning when I first met him, all the way to Friday night when he beat me. I was tired and irritable and I didn't want to speak, but I complied with them and patiently told them everything. Piero watched me intently at first, but after a while he turned his face away. I felt as if everything I ever wanted to keep private was being coaxed out of me, and it was painful to surrender all the information. They asked for details on the times Ray hurt me, on his cruel words to me, and on my different methods of coping. I felt helpless and foolish under their searching gaze, and I longed for them to leave and Piero to hold me. I was digging up phantoms that I didn't want to disturb, and I was frustrated that the police kept asking for more information. I patiently complied with them, and they scrutinized me and scribbled down everything I said. My head and my ribs hurt, and I longed to sleep some more.

After the longest time, the two men thanked me and left the house.

"Mmm-hmmm…" Piero responded quickly when the men thanked him. He followed them to the door and locked it behind them without looking at their faces or shaking their hands. I watched him closely, getting the feeling that something wasn't right. Normally Piero treated people warmly and hospitably, but now he barely acknowledged the exiting policemen. I watched as Piero turned and leaned against the door, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. He was crying.

"Piero?"

He didn't answer.

"Piero?"

"You were living in a tent?"

Oh. He hadn't known. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment at having kept it from it.

"I…it wasn't so bad. Away from the house, under the moon…"

He strode over the sofa and fell to his knees beside it.

"I should have gone after you that day you ran from my house! I should have made sure you were okay! I should have persisted! I thought I was giving you time to think, but really I was forcing you to try to deal with things on your own!"

"Piero, no! I was dealing with things on my own way before that, anyway! If you had come after me, I probably wouldn't have given into you."

"I should have insisted."

"I wouldn't have listened. But it's all right, Piero, everything turned out okay."

"Did it?" He gestured to me lying in pain on his couch.

I looked down at the blanket twisted around my legs.

"I'm sorry," he said, wiping his eyes. "I don't mean to get so upset. It's just that…ugh, I hate hearing about how you were living and knowing that I could have done something."

I reached up my hand to touch his face, and he took it and kissed it, then leaned over to kiss me.

"It's okay, Piero," I murmured.

He looked somberly at me, then got up to look out the window.

"It's getting dark," he said.

I nodded and didn't answer. I raised my hand gingerly to my temple and closed my eyes. I felt disgusted after having recounted the full story of my relations with Ray. All the thinking and talking made me tired, and I felt weak and pained as I rubbed my forehead.

"How do you feel?" he asked, softly, watching me from the window.

I sighed.

"Pained. Gosh, it hurts, Piero. And weak too. That was too much talking and thinking for me."

Piero came back to the sofa and knelt beside it. He smoothed back my hair and tenderly kissed my forehead, then my cheeks, and finally my lips.

"You're weak because you're hungry," he said. "You need to eat. You promised you would, remember?"

I nodded, and he kissed my cheek.

"Anything in particular you want?"

"Soup's fine."

He got up to get it and returned quickly to me, pulling up the coffee table to sit on. He put down the bowl and moved his arm carefully around my shoulder to prop me up with a pillow.

"If you don't want to feed me, I can try to do it myself," I said weakly, and as I said it I knew I probably wouldn't be able to do it. Piero just smiled and kissed my cheek as he picked up the bowl and held the first spoonful to my mouth.

I sleepily let him feed me, forcing myself to keep eating, and soon I heard the spoon clink against the bottom of the bowl. Piero smiled wide.

"Look, mi amor!" he said eagerly, turning the bowl on its side to show me. "You finished it!"

He looked very pleased, and I nodded and closed my eyes.

"Do you want more?" he asked.

"Noooooo…" I groaned, and he laughed softly and stood up, moving away from the sofa.

When he returned, he knelt beside me and stroked my cheek.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked me softly.

"I'm hurting," I admitted, and he quickly got my medicine for me. After he had helped me to take it and lie down again, he knelt beside me and kissed my temple.

"Just relax," he said, "The most important thing to me right now is that you're comfortable. Rest, and you'll start to feel better soon."

I nodded, with my eyes closed, and felt his warm hand intertwine with mine, beside me on the sofa.