*Alex*
"Marc would have never let that Rossi-whore do that with him. You moving to Italy now and giving up everything here is a joke!"
"Stop it! Stop calling her that!" After days of just listening to my father's endless complaints, I was now in a rage.
And it wasn't even because I couldn't hear it anymore, but more because he was insulting Isa. He hadn't said a word about her before, but now he had gone one step too far. I wouldn't let him call her that in front of me.
"She's not a slut just because she lives with him! He took her and Eli in back then when they had nowhere else to go and you know it."
"Yeah Eli was a sensible girl. At least she lived her own life. But that Luisa... I bet she's banging all the boys there and..."
"Enough!" I reared up in front of him, snorting with rage, "One more word about her and I'll forget myself."
"How are you talking to me?" he asked, almost startled.
I had outgrown him, long ago, and he seemed to realize that now.
"The way you deserve it," I huffed.
"How do you think this is going to go? That they'll welcome you with open arms and you'll become part of their clique? Keep dreaming Alex. You can't trust those Italians. They're all sneaky."
"I trust Isa."
"On what basis? You don't even know her."
"Enzo trusted her. That's why I do too."
"Enzo wasn't perfect. He was just wrong about her."
"He wasn't." I said it with conviction.
I was sure that Enzo hadn't been wrong about her. Just when we had spoken on the day of the funeral...
It had been honest and she hadn't treated me like a little brother who didn't have a clue anyway. She had taken me seriously and saw me as a serious and important partner.
It had all sounded a bit business-like when we had talked about how to proceed. But somehow it was understandable, considering all the things she had to organize.
I had promised to come as soon as possible and I would be leaving in a few hours. My things would arrive a few days later. I had packed everything and was now putting everything into the van of the moving company.
Luckily, some of my friends had come to help, because Dad certainly wasn't helping me and Marc had also crawled into his room like a little offended child.
He was still angry that I had been given custody.
Totally moronic. But now he knew for the first time what it felt like to be in my shoes.
Basically, I hadn't been used to anything else. I had always been second choice. No one had ever chosen me and it was nice to be first choice at least once.
And I was perhaps even more grateful that Isa had been so insistent that it was done exactly as Enzo had written it down. After all, she could have simply said that she would have preferred Marc.
I would have stepped aside immediately.
Just like I always did.
I would have withdrawn if it would have made her happy.
But she hadn't asked for that. Quite the opposite. She had told me quite clearly that she needed me.
Me.
Even though she was surrounded by so many really strong people, she needed me.
I could hardly believe it when she had said it so clearly. But I was absolutely determined to prove to her that she wasn't wrong. That I really was the one she needed.
"You'll fall flat on your face," he grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "but don't think you'll just come back home."
"This is my house too," I replied, "It's mine, just like it's Marc's. And when he was after Isa, you didn't scold her like that either."
"Then I thought the girl had decency, like her sister. But I realized pretty quickly who and what she is." He looked at me almost sympathetically, but I knew that there was virtually no such thing as sympathy in his world.
He was good at playing it for the cameras, but that's where his compassion usually ended.
I shook my head "I really hope you realize it one day," I said before grabbing a box and taking it outside.
Somehow there was something liberating about it.
I had never been without Marc or Dad for long. I had always lived with my brother and now we were riding for the same MotoGP team.
Maybe it was even good for our relationship if I did my own thing for a change.
When everything was finally loaded and I had put my suitcases in the car to go to the airport, I went upstairs one last time.
Even though Marc was acting like a little kid, I still wanted to say goodbye to him. We had never been apart for so long and somehow it was important for me to see him again before I left. Regardless of whether we would see each other again next race weekend.
I wanted to say goodbye to him.
I knocked cautiously on his door and only heard a grumble.
"Marc? I'm about to leave, I wanted to say goodbye." I pushed the door open a little.
He was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. "Have a good flight." He didn't even look at me.
"Thank you," I mumbled and was really crestfallen that he didn't even get up to hug me.
We were actually so close. We were actually inseparable. Could a woman really change that? After all, Marc wasn't really that concerned about the children, I was sure of that.
He wanted her back.
That's what he'd been fighting for since she left. Not always with the same intensity, but he did it again and again. He liked her, although that was more of a thing because he couldn't have her.
She was interesting because she resisted. Because she was part of Valentino's inner circle. Because she was a little more unattainable than all the other women who crossed his path and practically threw themselves at him.
He wanted Isa because he couldn't have her.
Still, it hurt me that he wasn't really talking to me now.
He was my big brother, my role model, one of the most important people in my life. I had always done everything for him.
But he couldn't even stand up and hug me while I was about to take one of the biggest steps of my life.
I could have really used that right now. But he didn't. He didn't hug me.
And so I drove to the airport with a sinking feeling.
At least my friends had accompanied me and saw me off there.
But the strange feeling didn't go away.
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YOU ARE READING
The way YOU saved ME
Fanfiction( complete) A story of family, love and trust. Of death, mourning and loss. Of what it takes to safe a life or two.