The Rejected Woman

All the suffering, anger, pain, and bitterness that she had been suppressing for the past three years, came flooding back in an instant. It took her a long time to forget who she was and where she came from, and to manage to sleep through the night, at least one night, without nightmares that brought back memories that had destroyed her life. On July 5, 2015, she boarded, as a stowaway, a cruiser that she didn’t even know where she was going. She wanted only one thing: to go as far as possible from Calabria, from her hometown Lazzaro, and from all those she loved and who meant something to her in life. She took nothing with her except her name and her new surname — Lombardi.

Emilia spent three days below deck, hiding in corners, in conditions unworthy of a human being. She felt nothing — neither hunger, nor thirst, nor heat, only pain... unbearable pain that tore her apart from the inside. In her despair and hurt, she didn’t know what was more devastating — the truth that she was adopted, the anger of the man she considered her father, the betrayal of the girl she thought was her sister, the deception of the young man whom she called her brother, or the pain for the man she loved infinitely, for whom was ready to die, and he hurt her the most.

The whiteness of the envelope handed to her by the courier of the law office reminded her of the whiteness of the room in which she woke up, when one of the sailors found her unconscious after a seven-day stay on the cruiser. The memories flooded in relentlessly; all the pain was still there. She remembered the day a police inspector came to a hospital room in Genoa, looking for evidence that she was Emilia Ricci Lombardi, the person whose missing had been reported by Mr. Maximiliano Lombardi seven days earlier. Although she lied and denied any association with the mentioned name and gentleman, the fingerprint confirming the truth, so she was forced to escape from the hospital as well.

− Madam, are you well? − the unknown man’s question barely reached her. − You are as pale as a ghost!

− I’m fine − she stammered, trying to overcome the nausea that suddenly overwhelmed her. − Are you sure it’s... for me? − she looked at the envelope as if the devil was lurking inside it. She guessed what it could be, but wondered how he found her.

− Are you Emilia Ricci Lombardi? ID number 220595... Christopher Columbus 51?

− I did − she confirmed, feeling how her head was spinning and how she would lose the ground under her feet at any moment.

− Madam, you are really not well... Are you alone at home? Should I call an ambulance?

− No, no! I’ll be fine... I wonder how you found me?

− I’m just a courier − the young man shrugged his shoulders. − Please, sign! − he said, handing her a pencil.

She dreaded this moment and hoped for it every sleepless night. The memories rushed upon her; his harsh and sinister words began to echo in her head:

„I married you to never let you find peace, as long as I exist. Every time you see my last name next to your name, it will remind you of who you could have been if you hadn’t been too stupid. From now on, I will live every day only to cause you pain. I will destroy you for the mockery you made of me! You soiled me, and I loved you, damn you! I believed you and dreamed of giving you everything! I will never give you a divorce, nor I will allow you to ever be happy!”

Because of those words, which destroyed her and brought her to the very brink of collapse, she had nightmares... every night. In those nights without hope and desire to live, she felt the hands that pushed her away, the hands that threw her out into the street, with nothing, the hands that indirectly pulled the broken glass over her veins.

She felt dizzy and sank into darkness.

− Emma, sweetheart... Emma! − was awakened by gentle calling.

She opened her eyes and saw Sofia calling out to her with a weeping and worried voice. She was lying on the corridor floor with her head on Sofia’s lap. It was the only place where she found comfort and salvation, after the evening when she found her at the door of her bakery, in hospital pajamas and slippers, her veins cut.

− Come on, honey! Please! − she helped her to stand up and walk to the couch in the living room. − Please, lie down! I’ve called Renato, he’ll be here soon!

She lay there unable to say anything. The present momentarily stopped, the images of the past slid before her eyes and lined up like on a movie screen — each the next more painful than the last.

A bachelorette party...

Her bachelorette party… which Fiona and Luca talked her into, her foregone sister and their the best friend. She loved them and trusted them boundlessly. They were helping her with her wedding preparations and it didn’t occur to her that she should have been checking on them or the bills she was signing. That night was supposed to be a surprise for her. And it was — such that she will not recover from it as long as she lives.

The evening was organized at a local club in Lazzaro. Although she preferred to spend the night, before the wedding day, daydreaming about tomorrow, she agreed to it, not wanting to spoil Fiona and Luca’s fun.

It all started quite normally, with loud music, old friends, and drinks. She was cheerful and in good spirits. Somewhere around 11 p.m., three male strippers appeared and the noise was deafening. They danced provocatively and performed a striptease, the girls were screaming, and she felt uncomfortable knowing that her future husband would never approve of such a thing. When they finished the striptease, the guys didn’t want to get dressed, or leave, until they had a drink with Emilia.

She gave in, wanting them to leave as soon as possible.

One of them handed her a glass of champagne and that scene was the last thing she remembered the next morning, when she woke up in a hotel room, above the club where she was celebrating her bachelorette party. To her great surprise, she was lying completely naked, things were scattered all over the room, and she couldn’t lift her head off the pillow.

After half an hour spent trying to come to her senses and remember what had happened, Fiona walked into the room without knocking with a strange expression on her face and an even stranger smile.

„Are you awake? Crazy night, huh?” Fiona asked, standing at the foot of the bed where Emilia lay. „You really surprised me! I thought I was the only crazy one in our family!” she chuckled.

„Fi, my head is exploding... What happened? I don’t remember anything!”

„You got a little drunk... You went a little crazy...” Fiona smiled mysteriously. „Come on, get up! Today you are getting married! Did you forget?!”

„Ouch!” Emilia softly groaned, getting out of bed. „Help me... I’m not feeling well! I didn’t do anything stupid, did I?! Does Max know I’m here?”

„No one knows… except me and Luca. Come on, hurry up, before they realize you’re not home! Luca is waiting for us!”

Fiona was three years older than Emma. They would often fight because, quite simply, they didn’t have the same view of the world, but from the moment Emma’s engagement to Maximiliano Lombardi was announced, Fiona had changed, she was pleasing and yielding to her in everything. Emma often teased her that it was because she was going to get rid of her — she will receive as a gift all the dresses she borrowed from her and, finally, Luca will be hers alone.

Luca Giovanni was their mutual friend, the son of family friends, and someone whom Fiona secretly admired. However, he paid no attention to her. Initially discreetly, and later more openly, he courted Emily, to which she paid little attention because he flirted with almost every girl in the neighborhood. She told him not to harbor false hope and that she loved him only as a friend and brother. She didn’t react to his rude jokes and intrusions, she mostly ignored them pretending not to hear them. She drew his attention to his increasingly persistent and rude behavior when she met Maximiliano and when their relationship became serious. Luca nicknamed her The Ice Queen and constantly called her that. She knew also that other young men in town added epithets like icy, unconquerable, conceited to her name because she wasn’t one of those girls who jumped into relationships without feelings, into relationships that would end in bed, but she didn’t pay attention to that.

Essentially, she was neither cold nor conceited at all, but… — nobody could reach her because her heart didn’t dance for anyone, no one’s gaze warmed her soul... until one afternoon when Maximiliano Lombardi entered her father’s office.