Chapter 4 His regret Begins

Chapter 4: His Regret Begins

I woke up with a strange feeling na may nakatingin sa akin. The morning light of Rome was entering my penthouse, pero iba yung pakiramdam. Parang may bumabagabag sa akin. I got up from my king-sized bed, wearing my silk pajama, and walked towards the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks Via Veneto, the most expensive street in Rome.

And my eyes widened in shock.

Sa baba, sa mismong tapat ng building ko, nakaparada ang sampung black Rolls Royce, all lined up perfectly. At sa bawat kotse, may mga tauhan na may dalang malalaking bouquet ng red roses. Hindi lang isang dosena. Parang isang truck ng bulaklak sa bawat kotse. The whole street was turned into a sea of red roses. People were stopping, taking pictures, whispering.

And in the middle of it all, standing under the scorching 35-degree heat of Rome, was Alessandro De Luca.

He was wearing a white shirt with sleeves rolled up, his black suit jacket hanging over his arm, his tie loosened. His hair was slightly messy, as if he kept running his hands through it. He was looking up directly at my window. He was waiting for me.

I immediately called Marco through the intercom, my heart beating fast not from kilig, but from annoyance and confusion.

"Marco, anong nangyayari sa baba? Bakit may sampung Rolls Royce sa tapat?"

"Madam E, si Mr. De Luca po. Nandun na po siya simula 5 AM pa. Sabi niya po hindi daw siya aalis hanggat hindi kayo bumababa."

It was already 10 AM. That means he had been standing there for five hours under the sun.

"5 AM? Nababaliw na ba siya? Hayaan mo siya dyan! Don't give him water, don't give him shade! Hayaan mo siyang mabulok sa init!"

"Yes, Madam," Marco replied, though his voice showed he was worried.

I tried to act like I didn't care. I went to my kitchen, made myself coffee, opened my laptop to check my emails for our casino in Monaco. Pero I couldn't focus. Every few minutes, I found myself walking back to the window to check if he was still there.

He was. He didn't move an inch. He just stood there, looking up, like a statue who was punished to stand under the sun forever.

Tanghali na. 12 PM. The heat was even worse. My penthouse was cold because of the aircon, but I could imagine how hot it was down there.

"Marco, kumain na ba siya?" I asked again, trying to sound cold.

"Hindi pa po, Madam. Hindi po siya gumagalaw. Yung mga tauhan niya lang po ang binibigyan niya ng instruction."

"Good! Gutumin mo siya! Para malaman niya ang hirap!"

But my hands were shaking while typing. I was angry, but a small part of me, that stupid, soft part that I thought I killed five years ago, was starting to worry. Five hours under the sun with no water is dangerous.

By 3 PM, hindi ko na kaya. I stood up abruptly and looked down again. His white shirt was now completely soaked with sweat, sticking to his body. His face was red. Pero nakatayo pa rin siya. His eyes were still fixed on my window.

"That stupid, stubborn idiot!" I whispered to myself.

I was about to call Marco again to tell him to chase Alessandro away when Marco knocked on my door and entered, holding a small black velvet box in his hands.

"Madam, pinabibigay niya po. Sabi niya po ito lang daw ang kailangan niyong makita para maintindihan niyo."

"Ano yan?" I asked, frowning.

"Buksan niyo daw po, Madam."

I took the box with trembling hands. I slowly opened it.

And the world stopped.

Inside the velvet box was the tiny white baby shoes. The same baby shoes I bought five years ago for my surprise. The one I put on the dining table that anniversary night. The one I thought was lost forever in the fire and blood.

It was cleaned and preserved carefully, pero mayroon pa ring faint brown stain ng dugo sa gilid. Dugo ko. Dugo ng anak namin.

Under the shoes was a small folded paper. It was his handwriting. I would recognize that handwriting anywhere.

I'm sorry. I didn't know. Forgive me. - A

My knees went weak and I collapsed on the sofa, tears suddenly falling non-stop. For five years, I thought this was gone. For five years, I thought I had nothing left of my baby except the ultrasound picture.

"Oh my God..." I whispered, holding the shoes against my chest. "Marco... tinago niya?"

"Opo, Madam," Marco said softly. "Sabi ng tauhan niya, katabi niya daw po matulog yan gabi-gabi for five years. Nasa bedside table niya daw po."

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All my walls, all my coldness, all my Madam E persona crumbled in that moment.

I ran. I ran barefoot, wearing only my silk pajama, no makeup, buhaghag ang buhok, down to the lobby and out to the street. I didn't care about the paparazzi who were already taking pictures. I only saw him.

Alessandro saw me running towards him and his tired eyes lit up.

"Elena..." he whispered, his voice hoarse from not drinking water.

I held up the baby shoes, crying hard.

"Bakit mo tinago to? Bakit, Alessandro? Bakit mo to tinago for five years?"

He walked towards me slowly, his body slightly swaying from exhaustion and heat.

"Because that night... after you disappeared... bumalik ako sa mansion," he started to explain, his voice shaking. "I was so angry, Elena. I thought you just left me because you were tired of being a Mafia wife. I hated you for five years for leaving."

He paused and looked at the baby shoes in my hands.

"Pero pagbalik ko, nakita ko yung dugo. Ang daming dugo sa sahig, Elena. At sa gitna ng lamesa, nakita ko tong box na to. Binuksan ko... at nakita ko yung sapatos at yung note mo na 'Happy Anniversary, Daddy'."

"Elena, do you know how I felt?" he continued, tears now falling from his gray eyes, his perfect Mafia Lord mask completely shattered. "For five years I thought you betrayed me. Pero pala ako ang nag betray sayo. Ako ang pumatay sa anak natin."

"You are a monster!" I shouted, hitting his chest weakly while crying. "You killed our baby! Kasalanan mo!"

"I know!" he shouted back, letting me hit him, not defending himself at all. "Kasalanan ko! Lahat kasalanan ko! So please punish me! Saktan mo ako! Patayin mo ako kung gusto mo! Just don't ignore me anymore! I can't take it anymore, Elena!"

I was sobbing so hard I couldn't speak. All the pain of five years was coming out.

He suddenly fell to his knees in the middle of Via Veneto, in front of all the people, in front of all the cameras.

"Elena, I broke off the engagement this morning," he said, looking up at me. "Wala na si Bianca. I told the council there will be no wedding. There has always been only you. Forgive me, please."

I looked down at him. The great Alessandro De Luca, on his knees, crying, sunburned, holding nothing but his regret.

"Sorry is not enough, Alessandro," I whispered, tears still falling. "Sorry will not bring back our baby."

"I know," he whispered. "But let me spend my whole life trying. Buong buhay ko, Elena. Ibibigay ko sayo para makabawi."

I turned around and walked away, holding the baby shoes tightly, because if I stayed one more second, I might forgive him right there. And I wasn't ready to forgive him yet. Not yet.

But as I entered the building, I knew one thing. His regret... has just begun. And it was going to be a long, painful, beautiful regret.