"Mamma, why are you shouting like this?" I say, sitting up straight on my bed and staring at my mom's beaming face.

"Your father is coming back! They'll fly early morning," she says happily and jumps right into my arms, knocking me down back to my bed.

She's a mess of sobs and laughter and giggles.

"Oh, sweetheart, they are all fine. They are all coming back," he mumbles in my ear, squeezing me tighter.

I shift my eyes to Jason who is witnessing our little moment from the frame of the door.

He understands immediately my questioning glare and fetches his phone, walking out of my room and making the call I beg for.

"We'll travel to NY today. Jason needs to do some arrangements before they are home," mom says when finally lets me loose and we both sit on the bed's edge, one next to the other, shoulder to shoulder, both of us with shattered hearts, both of us frightened for the men we love.

"That's great, Mamma. We can finally go home," I say, forgetting that for mom home is here. She would choose this place any time, without giving a second thought.

"This is home for me," she pouts, caressing my head and playing with my hair. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," she says in a soft voice.

"What for?" I ask, shifting my eyes to her.

"Your dad. He didn't mean to be like that with you, baby."

"Oh, I know, Mamma. Don't worry about it," I tell her and hug her.

"I do worry, Eve. I'm worried about you. You've changed, sweetheart. Is everything okay?" she continues, and I skip a heartbeat being afraid she can read my secret with that intense glare she gives me, like staring right through me and seeing my poor shaky heart.

No, mamma, everything is not okay. Everything is fucked up and your daughter's heart is hurting.

I wished I could say that out loud but... Enzo has said he'll tell dad, he'll take care of it. I'm going to let that for him.

"Sure I'm fine, Mamma. Why do you think otherwise?"

"You know you can talk to me about anything, sweetie," she insists and lifts my head with the tips of her fingers so I can face her.

"Mamma, I don't want to talk about it," I try to divert the discussion to Jason, and it surely has worked.

"Jason is a good kid, you know?"

"Mamma, I don't want to talk about it. He lied! Period!" I reply with an irritated tone and stand up, hoping she'll drop it.

Shit! Diverting the talk to Jason matter doesn't seem a good choice anymore. It feels like old news and I hope she won't push for more.

"Alright, sweetheart. Just... don't shut us out, baby. We love you," she wraps up the subject and pulls me in a long, tender hug.

"I love you too, Mamma."

"We are leaving in three hours, Eve. Be ready," she surprises me with a scolding slash joking voice and turns around, walking determined towards the door.

"Mamma, I think I'm going to move back to my apartment when we reach NY," I tell her, avoiding her look.

She stops in her way and turns around towards me, weighing my words for a few moments and tilting her head to the right shoulder.

"You'll have to take Jason in," she replies.

"What? Why?"

"Or maybe you want your father to move in with you."

Now she's pissed.

"Ugr! Fine! Fine, Jason can move in with me," I agree, crashing on my bed and burying my face in the pillow while mom chuckles.

"Get ready, Eve," she says one more time cheerfully, and walks out.

I sigh and roll on my back pulling the cover all the way to the top of my head and burying my face in the darkness of it, thinking what the hell is taking Jason so long.

As if sending him mental calls, a knock comes on my door.

"Yeah," I say lazily, shifting my eyes to the entrance, and I see Jason coming in.

"Hey," he says, walking towards me. "Sorry, I couldn't catch them on the phone.

"None of them?" I ask, standing up and searching for my phone between the bed's covers and pillows scattered everywhere.

I scroll through the log and find Enzo's number. My hands are shaking and my eyes sting with tears already.

Voice message. Shit, I dial again, totally ignoring Jason staring at me.

"No, I need to get through. He needs to pick up..." I mumble through my sob and tears, wiping them with the back of my hand while trying to dial again.

Jason crouches in front of me, grabbing my shaky hands, and I don't give a shit he sees me in this state.

"Eve..." he says, trying to stop me from my hysterical urge to get an answer to my call.

I push his hands away.

"Eve, stop it. Stop it!" he shouts, and I snap my head up, looking into his soft eyes. "You need to be strong, Eve. A woman of your family can't break down," he says, brushing his knuckles on my left cheek. "You need to put your shit together and man up."

"But..."

"Yes, I know. It hurts like fuck. Your mom has been through this many times. And your grandma as well, and you don't see them scattered all over the place, do you?"

"Eve, honey!" I hear mom calling me from downstairs.

"There's a call for you, baby!" she says, and I jump on my feet ready to run out, but Jason grabs my wrist and stops me.

"What are doing?" I ask him.

I see shadows darkening in his eyes while staring at me, definitely trying to tell me something.

"Jason, let go," I try to pull my hand from his grip, but he's squeezing tighter, and I know he wants to tell me something. Something I'm sure I'm not going to like.

"He's not on the way, Eve. That's your dad on the phone. It's just him and Don Marciano in the flight," he finally says, and I stop struggling.

I feel the grip of his hand loosen and I'm pulling mine free, slapping him hard with my all anger.

His head snaps to one side, eyes closed, jaws clenched, lips pressed in a thin line.

"When the fuck will you stop lying, Jason?" I ask in anger and frustration, my voice going a few tones lower. "I thought you said nobody picked up."

"No, they didn't. Lucas told me over the call I had when we were both downstairs".

"How convenient for you, isn't it?" I spit back at him.

The door opens and mom gets in with her phone in her hand.

My eyes drill holes in Jason's, not breaking our furious glare while mom hands me the phone.

"Sweetie, it's dad," she says, ignoring our little eye fight.

I take the phone from her hand, still burning my stare into Jason's.

"Hey, dad. Where are you?" I ask.

"On the way, pumpkin. We'll land tomorrow early morning."

"That's great, dad. How is grandpa?"

Jason breaks our stare first, shaking his head and getting out of my room while I follow him with my eyes burning holes to the back of his head and a deep frown.

Mom follows, closing the door behind her, leaving me alone with my very important call.

"He's good, sweetheart. We're all good. Listen, your mom said you wanted to get back to your apartment and you don't want Jason..."

"No, dad. It's fine. At least I'm used to him being around. It will be less awkward," I say, and I hear him sighing in relief.

"Uncle Enzo... "

"He's fine, sweetie. He just couldn't be transported yet," he clarifies, and I sit on my bed, my legs feeling weak and my knees buckling.

Too many fucking emotions lashing at me lately.

Just how fine he was if he couldn't be transported?

"I see."

"He'll come as soon as he's better."

"Yeah. I'm happy you're fine, Dad. I love you."

"I love you too, pumpkin. See you later."

"See you, Dad," I close the conversation and the call ends.

Three hours later we are on the flight back to NY.

My head is splitting in two in an excruciating headache, and a tint of nausea is threatening to become a bigger problem.

So, I choose to seat in the back, alone, with my headphone on, hoping for a nap.

Which, of course, doesn't happen as Jason decides to sit right next to me.

He cuddles in his seat, eyes closed, and bulky arms crossed on his toned chest, getting comfy with a sigh.

"Sleep, Eve," he mumbles, without gracing me with a look.

With a puff of annoyance, I turn my eyes towards the window lid, although it's shut.

"Already nagging," I say to myself, getting busy with my phone.

He puffs, mocking me, and turns to the opposite side, drifting in his own nap that I'm so envious of.

I'm worried about our staying together in my apartment when all we share are clashes and annoyance. It's going to be a challenging time, but only till Enzo will be back.

A serious talk with Jason is in order this evening when we'll be home.

Mom wants me to stay the night at the mansion, waiting for dad there but I'm so much reluctant about the idea.

I'm not feeling well, and I need time alone.

And the Jason-the-watch-guy thing needs to be settled.

We've landed in the evening. Of course, I'm exhausted and have had a few good attempts of nausea in the airplane's toilet but with no success.

It's really worrisome.

"Mamma, Jason will take me to my apartment. Call when dad is home," I tell mom once we were out of the airport.

"Are you sure, sweetie? You know I'm going to have to face your father and tell him..." mom tries one more time.

If it exists someone on this earth to surely tame dad, that someone is only my mother, so I worry very little about her telling him anything.

"I need this, Mamma," I reply, giving her a short hug and turning towards Jason who is already leading the way to the black SUV waiting for us.

"Bye, sweetie," mom says while I send her a flying kiss, walking towards the car.

Jason opens the passenger door for me, and I sit, buckling up while he takes the keys from the driver and his seat at the steering wheel, burning the engine.

"I'll bring food after I drop you," he says distantly, just the way I need it.

"I don't think I can put anything in this stomach tonight. But bring for yourself," I reply absently, shifting my eyes to the window.

The drive to my apartment was rather silent after that. A deep, heavy silence that only made the road ten times longer.

Once we've reached my penthouse, I get down from the car and without waiting for Jason I grab my bag and walk to the elevator.

I don't wait for him but push the button to my place while tapping my foot to the floor of the elevator, but Jason's bulky arm squeezes just before the door completely closes and gets in, making me roll my eyes in annoyance.

All I want right now is my bed, a comfy cuddle in my blankets, and a night of good sleep.

I need to take my mind away from all the latest events, the emptiness I'm drifting in, missing Enzo and dying to hear his voice, to feel his arms hugging me, his lips kissing me, his breath teasing my skin.

"Brat..." he mumbles.

"Liar!" I spit back at him, making him smile.

"Roll your eyes at me again and I'm going to tell your dad I can't complete this mission," he says in a tranquil tone, making me puff again.

I don't even know why I'm acting like this. I'm way over the boyfriend slash guardian thing by now, but I guess he's the only one I can pour my anger on. And he's really taking it well, sort of speak.

I type the code of my penthouse once we are on my floor, and as it opens, images of Enzo flash in front of my eyes.

Enzo, walking out of my bedroom. Enzo, sitting at the dining table. Enzo, in front of the stove. Enzo, turning around to face me and smile at me, his coal-black eyes staring at me, making me feel precious.

I shake the thoughts away when the elevator's door closes behind us and look around my apartment, reluctant to walk in a no Enzo space and with Jason standing behind my back, waiting for me quietly to overcome my moment.

Manning up, I sniff and wipe my tears with the back of my hand, remembering Jason's words.

Women in my family stand up straight, stoic, and strong. They are the balance for their men, they are the ones who smooth the wrinkles between their frown eyebrows, they are the arms that wrap around their broken necks, they are the fingers that smooth tense temples, they are the lips that kiss mouths with bitter smiles, they are the hands that caress bullet wounds and knife cuts.

And I'm a woman of this family. I'm born to be all of these, and I'm fated to embrace my destiny with courage and love, a love that I don't have to learn, but a love I'm born with, as my mom and grandma have been, a love that has made its place into our hearts without asking, without hesitating, without giving a fuck that it leaves behind broken pieces and shattered souls.

"I'm going to sleep," I say in a cold voice, Jason still standing behind me like a damn mute statue but with burning eyes, I can almost feel on the back of my neck.

But I'm thankful that he doesn't show pity.

I don't need pity, I need time alone, I need this stoic woman of the fucking mafia to hide and lick her wounds.

*****
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