A Promessa

Lutto

"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love."

—Washington Irving

—*—

The first week following Bianca's funeral was... hard.

Between his job as consigliere and his newfound role as a single father, Alessio barely had time to rest. If any.

Alessio resumed his duties the day after the funeral. Crimson wasn't even expecting to see him, having told him to take a leave of absence.

"I'm fine," he said whenever people asked him how he was doing.

It was becoming annoying. He didn't need any pity. He's still the same Alessio that keeps everyone in line and solves every fucking problem within the Family so that Don doesn't have to deal with it himself. What did they expect him to do? Stay in bed all day and eat his weight in ice cream while watching Hell-a-Novellas? He has responsibilities, his two children included.

Cecilia and GaGarret—and Mother when she could come all the way from Mint City—helped in any way they could. Be it by watching the children, making dinner for them when he got home late, or, in Mother's case, forcing him to drink tea to calm his nerves.

After a particularly stressful day, Alessio returned home mentally exhausted. He cursed the new recruits' incompetence, Jawns getting on his nerves, and Crim for ordering Alessio to take a leave of absence and put his emotions in order.

His mother placed a cup of tea in front of him.

"Bad day, I guess."

"Don't ask." For once, Alessio downed the entire cup in one gulp.

"It's chamomile tea, not a tequila shot. You're supposed to drink it little by little.

"Please, Mamma, don't..." Alessio pinched the bridge between his eyes. "I'm not in the mood. I have enough going on already with Crimson forcing me to take some days off."

"How is that a bad thing, figlio? At least that figlio di puttana seems to have a bit of decency for a mobster."

"I don't understand why everybody expects me to sit back and mop all day," Alessio growled.

"Maybe because that's what a grieving husband should feel after losing his wife."

Were it anyone else, Alessio would have slammed his fist on the table. But to his mother, he sent a glare her way, fists clenched tightly.

"Do you think it doesn't hurt? Do you think it doesn't pain me to come home and realize that Bianca is gone?" he hissed. "Because right now, I feel like a fucking exterminator had torn my still-beating heart out of my chest. But if I break down, who will look after my children?"

His point made clear, Alessio sighed and looked away from Mother. A tense silence hung in the air for a few minutes. Then, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I know the feeling. Fuck's sake, I had my share of single parenting myself when your father kicked the bucket, you know."

"At least you and papa had twenty years of being married. I only had about six."

"Regardless, the pain is still there, figlio. Losing the person you love isn't easy to deal with. It never is." Mother sighed. "But bottling it up is poisonous; if you keep doing it, you will never be able to begin the healing process and come to terms with it."

Alessio looked down sadly.

"...She'd want me to move on, wouldn't she?" he said earnestly, blinking back a tear.

"She was a good woman, so yes. I believe she would." The oven rang. "I hope you're hungry, figlio mio, because I made your favorite dish!"

One of the...downsides of working in the Mafia is that one must always be alert. With a constant risk of assassination at any time of the day, you must always sleep with an eye open unless you are a light sleeper who'd react to the faintest sound within the room.

Thankfully for Alessio, he was of the latter. As such, he stirred awake when he heard his door creaking open. He instinctively reached for the gun under his pillow until he recognized the little figure at the door.

"Pietro? What's wrong?"

The four–year–old walked timidly into the room. Alessio realized he'd been crying.

"I can't find mommy...."

With a squirming in his heart, Alessio knelt as his son ran straight into his arms with child-like sobs.

"There, there. It's alright, piccolo mio. How about you spend the night here? I'm a little lonely too."

It wasn't just an expression. Alessio felt quite lonely ever since he began sleeping alone in a bed meant for two.

After tucking Pietro on Bianca's side of the bed, he briefly left for the nursery and returned with Giulia in his arms before joining his son. After some shifting, both his children snuggled up in his arms.

Alessio smiled a little as Giulia opened her eyes a bit. They were a gentle pastel blue, just like her mother's. She eyed him, acknowledging him, before going back to sleep.

"I miss mommy..." Pietro sniffled.

"I know, Pietro. I miss her too. We all miss her."

"Even Giulia?"

"Especially Giulia. Just think about it: she doesn't understand why her mamma is not around anymore."

"She looks like mommy."

"Indeed, she does..." Alessio stroked his baby's cheek tenderly. "She's like a squishier, balder version of your mamma... I wish she could've gotten to know Bianca more...."

...Yet, simultaneously, he was glad she didn't get to see her beautiful, loving mother wither away like that.

"Are you sad, papa?"

"It's alright, figlio. I just... Well, none of us were expecting yer mamma to... leave the way she did..." he sighed. "I loved her so much, you know. You could say she really lit my world on fire... Not every day you find such a person in the Seven Rings, but when you do... You think it'll go on like that until one of you kicks the bucket."

He missed her. He just missed her so much...

So much...

A tear ran down Alessio's cheek. Then another. And another. Before he knew it, they were cascading down his cheeks.

A small blue hand wiped the tears away.

"Don't be sad, papa," Pietro whispered with a little smile. "I'm here with you. Giulia, too."

Alessio smiled and wiped Pietro's tears. "Indeed. The two of you are little pieces of your mamma, and that makes you very special to me." He stroked and kissed Giula's forehead. "The two of you are the next best things to Bianca, and I love you so much."

His tail curled up around his two children. He stayed awake for a while long after Pietro fell asleep. Alessio glanced over at the frame in the bedside drawer. It was a photo of Bianca when she was still pregnant with Pietro. In his eyes, she looked even more beautiful then.

Bianca, I will be the best father in the Seven Rings.

That's what you wanted... and what they deserve.