Eliana saw that he was trembling. Other than the afternoon of the Vendemmia feast, in which he had only marginally been involved, he had been present only once during an attack, and then he had panicked while Eliana ministered to Alessio. She remembered it clearly because she was surprised at how distressed it had left him. Even then, that seizure was mild compared to most others—nothing compared to this attack. Eliana turned away from him, nuzzling back up against her son.

“He’s not really my son, is he, Eliana?”

Maurizio’s question enraged her. She turned back, her eyes fierce. “Of course he’s your son. How dare you say that in front of—”

Maurizio held up a hand to stop her, then said calmly, “That’s not what I meant.” He swallowed. “He doesn’t call me father.” Then he said softer, “He hates me.”

Eliana suddenly understood why Maurizio had called for her. Maurizio was more than frightened at the prospect of losing his son; he had come to the realization that he already had. She suddenly felt pity for him.

“Being a father takes time. He never sees you. Even when you’re home, you’re not really there. You’re not a part of his life.”

Maurizio looked down for a long time, nervously rolling an unlit cigarette in his fingers. The room was quiet except for the strained wheeze of Alessio’s breathing.

“I almost killed my own son.” Maurizio was silent again. The time stretched into what seemed minutes. Then he spoke without looking at her. “You may go, Eliana. You may take Alessio back to America with you.”

She looked at him in disbelief. He did not look at her. “Mi dispiace per tutto.” I am sorry about everything. “I am so sorry I hit you.” His eyes were wet. She closed her eyes tightly. When she opened them again, something miraculous had happened. Eliana saw the man she had fallen in love with. She looked at him softly.

“I’m sorry for what I have done,” she said. “It wasn’t to hurt you. I was only lonely.”

“I know.”

There was a long moment of silence. “Do you want to try again?” she asked.

He looked at her and his eyes moistened. He nodded his head slowly. “No. It is who I am, Eliana. I would only hurt you again.”

Despite all that she had been through, she was suddenly filled with deep sadness. She wanted to weep for both of them. He stepped forward. He touched her hair, lifting it in his hand; then he stooped and kissed her forehead. He looked at Alessio for a moment. “Be a good boy, son. Obey your mother. She is a good mother.”

Alessio looked up at him, then back at Eliana, as if for an explanation.

“Bye, amore.” Maurizio smiled, then added, “Tesoro mio.”

Eliana remembered when he had first spoken those words to her. It was the first time he had told her that he loved her. The circle was complete. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she smiled and he smiled back. Then he walked from the room. Eliana laid her head down on the bed next to her son and cried.