Unforeseen

Fast Forward:

"I have shamed them; I have shamed them all!" I said as I cried almost uncontrollably. 

Danny tried comforting me as usual, holding me tightly in his arms as I lost myself. 

"You did nothing of the sort, this will pass, it's just going to take some time to blow over," he said. I could hear the sincerity in his voice, it was heartfelt. He believed strongly in his words like thebeating I could feel coming from his chest. 

Crying harder now, he lifted my face to his."Are you regretting this, because if you are you can say so. No hard feelings, we can go our separate ways, and your life can return to normal if that is what you wish," he said. His eyes franticly darting back and forth between the two of mine.

"No, no, my parents will never take me back anyway, they already have packers at the house moving everything out!

"My parents were so ashamed of the decisions I had made that they disowned me, and buried within my depths I knew there was no coming back from this. The more my heart broke, the harder my tears flowed, and before long I found myself deep in thought, completely lost in recalling the memory.

~

It was the hardest thing I had to do, sitting down with my parents, and explaining to them that I was not going to marry, Nicholas, the man for which I was betrothed. My dad blew his top, it was the worst I had ever seen. Worse than when my brother was killed in the drive-by, he completely lost his mind. For a split second, he was so far gone he forgot what country we were in because he started yelling in Italian, his tone was deafening. My mother, on the other hand, didn't speak a word but her silence spoke volumes. She simply got up, in her elegant way, and walked out of the room shutting the door to the study behind her, avoiding any eye contact with me as she did. After my father's rage ended, he was physically and emotionally exhausted, I knew it had taken everything out of him. I watched him in silence take a seat behind his desk. 

After not much time and without lifting his head, he quietly said, "Leave this house and do not return, for your mother and I wish to never see your face again. I will make the call." 

Trying my best to hold my head high and keep my emotions in, I slowly crept to the door of the study. As it shut behind me, I could hear my father beginning to weep, for I, his last surviving youthand only daughter had broken his heart. Leaving my childhood home was the hardest thing I had ever done. I instantly felt like a stranger, and with having the sense that I was unwelcome I did not try to make my way up to my old bedroom and gather any of my things. I felt as if I shouldn't take any belongings from this house even if they technically are mine. The memories would be too painful as well as I felt it inappropriate. 

~ 

"Are you calming down now?" Danny asked,gently pulling me from my thoughts. 

I hadn't realized it, but I wasn't crying anymore only sniffles formed. Maybe it wasn't that it no longer upset me but the fact that I was becoming numb to it all. 

Whispering I said, "I'm starting to feel a little better I think." 

Looking up at Danny he pushed the hair backfrom my face so we could see eye to eye. He was so calm, caring, and concerned for me about this whole situation. How could I ever deserve something so wonderful? Someone so supportive? All this fuss was over a man that my parents judged before even knowing, it was so unfair. My blood began to boil, as I could feel my temper rising, I went from zero to sixty in a split second.

Jumping up, I began to yell, my hot-headedItalian temper getting the best of me. "It's not my fault that I was betrothed to someone as a child!You should be able to think for yourself and choose what you want, to be able to love and spend the rest of your life with whoever you want! Why is my family like this?" 

"Well dear," Danny said, "I am not on their side, I am on your side, I want to make that clear before I continue..." Pausing he eyed me carefully,waiting for a response from my end which did not come. I wanted to hear what he had to say. At times his way of explaining things made me feel so much better whether I agreed with his way of thinking or not. He knew how to talk to me delicately to keep me listening – how to handle me correctly. I was thankful for that. "Technically I feel like when you were a child, they knew then the predicament they were in and just wanted to secure the best future they thought they could for you, which was being on the right side at that time so that you were notkilled by certain families when you grew up.

"Raising my finger to protest, an abrupt knock came at the front door of our little house. Briskly I turned and headed for the peep hole – being a little concerned about who it might be. My heart beat so fast I could feel the blood pumping hard inside my chest, there was a ringing in my ears, a throbbing in my temples. Nicholas didn't know where Danny lived, but my parents knew through brief discussions on our trips to the café. Would my parents tell Nicholas where we were? Would he show up and kill him, making me watch in the worst of ways, followed shortly after by yours trulyto make an example out of me? It seemed like a million thoughts crossed my mind before I stuck my eye to the peep hole. Holding my breath, I found a tall, slender man with a long black dress coat and matching hat walking away from our front door. He appeared to be unarmed to my relief, I watched as he sank into a black car and slowly pulled away from the curb at the end of our sidewalk. 

"Well, who is it?" Danny asked, staring at me with an urgent look on his face. 

Turning more towards his body, I assured him that it was just Frank, our butler at the house and that he had left. Danny had the same curiosity in hiseyes that I think I had too, hesitantly I decided to open the door. To my disbelief there were boxes on the front porch, four incredibly large boxes, two stacked on top of each other making two piles side by side. Peering around the front lawn I reassured myself there was no one outside. We tugged theheavy boxes into the foyer and began to open them. A note inside told me these were from my mother. My father wanted all my belongings burned or thrown in the trash – for he wanted there to be no evidence of my existence. Choking back tears as I continued to read the note, I found that my mother could not bear the thought of me not having my things, let alone nice ones, and even though she was disappointed in me and I had let our family down she could not do as my father wished. She had Frank pack my belongings and bring them to the house. She did not bother signing the note, not as my mother, not as our family name, not at all. The pain was almost unbearable, it was what I imagined it would feel like when the blade of a knife savagely cuts through your skin. From this I knew it was the final straw.