Tainted Faith

Thirty Three: Trentatre [re-written 11/07/21]

[RE-WRITTEN]

Liliana didn't know how long she laid in bed unable to sleep, but from the gap in the curtains she could see the sky still engulfed in darkness. Beside her, Marcello slept peacefully, rolled onto his side, his hand stretched out and tucked by her waist. The bedsheets had slipped down past his chest, folded low on his hips and Liliana had to force her eyes not to linger on the exposed contours of his torso. With careful movements, she eased out of the bed, trying her best not to wake Marcello as she snuck out of the bedroom for a glass of water.

It seemed she was not the only one to still be awake at this ridiculous hour, as she noticed the light in the kitchen seeping out into the hallway. Suspecting it was her aunt also unable to sleep, Liliana was surprised to find Marco hunched over the counter, sat on one of the bar stools, drinking what she suspected was a large mug of coffee.

"What are you doing up?" Marco's low, grumbled voice greeted her, barely glancing up from his screen.

"I could ask you the same thing," Liliana retorted, walking straight past him to pour herself a glass of water. "I couldn't sleep."

She turned and leant against the counter as she sipped at the water, eyeing his set up. There were papers scattered across the desk and Liliana noticed his phone face down on the counter, buzzing away with notifications. Marco didn't glance at it, and ignore the raised brow and pointed look she gave him.

"I have work to do," was all he said. His thick, chestnut hair was dishevelled and Liliana knew he had been running his hands through it, as he so often did whenever he was tired and frustrated. She had noticed Marcello often did the same thing.

Liliana nodded, taking a seat opposite him on the kitchen island, asking, "Do you have time to talk?"

She wasn't prepared for him to say no, and she wouldn't accept it as an answer. The entire reason she had asked Marcello to schedule this trip was so she could ask her family - Marco in particular - more about their families history. She would much prefer to interrogate him now while they were alone.

Marco only arched a brow and took a long sip of his coffee, so Liliana took that as an affirmation.

"I met Anton; just before we travelled here, Marcello and I had dinner with him," Liliana began, watching her cousin for any reaction. There was none. "He told me somethings about my mother, and Gabriella."

Well, he had told Marcello, and Marcello had told her.

"I see," Marco mused. "And is it Anton Ansari or Gabriella D'Onofrio you wish to talk about."

Liliana didn't trust this cool demeanour of his. He was putting up a wall between them, guarding his emotions so as not to give anything away. But what was it that he felt the need to hide from her?

"I believe I may know all I want to about Gabriella. She drove my mama to suicide while her and Antonio fucked each other," she explained crudely.

Marco's sharp inhale was instantaneous. "Anton told you that?"

Standing abruptly to his feet, Marco gulped back the rest of his coffee and stalked towards the sink. He kept his back to her, silent, while he awaited her response.

"My father," she corrected, her fingers tapping against the side of her glass, eyes narrowing as she allowed her cousin to interrogate her. "Anton told me about Gabriella's taunts and letters, that I suspect are what further encouraged my mother to her end. But my father is the one that finally told me the truth of how she died. But only after I confronted him about it."

"He told you she killed herself?"

"Didn't she?" Liliana asked, voice dangerously low. His question hinted at a truth that made her stomach drop, and coil into a tight ball of anxiety that had a queasiness rising in the back of her throat.