Loving Marcello

Alternate Ending

I've been back home for 2 months and I've never regretted my life choices as much as I do now.

It seems that Derek skipped town, leaving Natasha a mess. I don't even try to hide my surprise or joy over that.

My mind obsesses over Marcello more than anything else. My overwhelming want to be in his arms. To have my lips pressed against his.

With a groan, I shake the thought off.

I can't think of those things, not when they're so far away and pretty much impossible.

My heart deflates as my mind pulls itself out of my ass and manages to move my body off the bed into a standing position.

I have to leave for work in 20 minutes.

My body protests as I all but limp to the bathroom. I may have slept on my hip wrong, because a shooting pain makes it almost unbearable to walk.

Yet another thing to add to the list of bodily pains.

I make it to the bathroom and lean half my weight against the sink.

My appearance stares at me, looking exhausted. I remember the vibrance I had when I was Italy.

Now it's replaced with dark circles under my eyes and sunken cheeks.

I've lost an unhealthy amount of weight, almost to the point of Uncle Benny wanting to drag me to the emergency doctors.

I promised him that I'd take care of myself, but that was a lie and we both knew it.

It's hard to see the constant concern in his eyes. Tiring, almost.

But how do I tell him that if I eat, it would inevitably end up in the toilet?

That it takes all my effort to climb out of bed and keep up with my hygiene?

To even go to work?

I dread going to work above all other things. It was hard adapting to my hometown again.

To adapt to my normal routine I'd abandoned for an escape to Italy.

A part of me wishes I would have just stayed. But the other part of me knows that could never happen. I have a life here. Barely, but still a life.

A job, an apartment, Uncle Benny. How could I possibly leave Uncle Benny?

I couldn't.

But how could I have left Marcello?

I did, but it was one of the hardest things I'd done in life.

Never would I have thought that I'd see him she'd a tear in my entire lifetime, but it plays in my head over and over every single night.

Him on his knees, begging me to stay. But I turned my back, barely able to carry my bags myself.

He had to understand that Italy wasn't my reality.

Italy was too good to be true. A life in Italy for me is the equivalence of me living in a fairy tale. And to stay with an Italian mafia boss. How would that even work out?

To be in constant danger. Especially with Marcellos half-assed security.

I couldn't have led a normal life there.

But I can barely lead a normal life here.

My appearance is ghostly, my clothes hanging off my body. My arms are thinner than they were two weeks ago.

My shoulders are beginning to hunch.

I can barely look in the mirror without wanting to bawl my eyes out.