above the others.
For me by now it was late, too late to give up, to undo fastened ties, to give up, to do without Pietro.
I started because of pain.
Because of pain in love,
or love of the pain
now I don't know anymore.
I wrote love
and I didn't notice it
until many lines later,
when the pain reclined
tired and afflicted
on the extended palm of my heart.
And I loved.
Without hesitation and reservations,
certain
in the dark,
to find pain again,
only pain.
10.
The gala dinner
Giovanni Percalli, the new director of the company that managed the supermarket chain where I worked, had decided to offer a dinner to all the employees so they could meet him and to celebrate this new milestone.
"There’s no way I’m getting dressed up for someone who has bought himself a position in a company with money ..."
"But Filippo! Everyone will be there, do it for me, what will people think?"
"Think? What will they think? You work in that supermarket, you’re not obliged to do everything they ask!"
"But what if I want to go?"
"Listen Mysia, I don't want to come, and anyway tomorrow I have to cover a colleague, I’m doing a double shift, if you really want to go you can go by yourself, no problem."
Coversation over.
Television on.
End.
Swallowing tears of anger, and disappointment, I slid into a tub of boiling water.
The background of the news accompanied me, exasperating me, in every room.
I closed the bedroom door behind me, and stood in front of the closet looking for something that I could wear to the dinner.
***
The meeting room was already crowded with colleagues and other people I didn’t know.
The catering service had already set up a
wonderful buffet.
I felt a little calmer: I would spend a lovely evening with Pietro, he would tell me that he liked how I was dressed, that with my hair up I was more fascinating, he would make me feel beautiful for one evening, like Cinderella.
The director was in the middle of the room with his wife: a middle-aged couple that transmitted the complicity that united them. She looked towards him constantly, as she spoke, as if to seek comfort in his gaze, as he ran the palm of his hand lightly down her back. But what struck me immediately about the director's wife was her smile, which seemed to illuminate her whole face.
"Ah, good evening Pietro!"
The director’s voice brought me back to reality
"You’ve arrived at last, I wanted to introduce you to Giovanni, the new administrator, come on, come with me."
I turned around radiant, unaware of what my
pupils would see.
Pietro, with a woman, by the hand: his wife.
Me alone.
The smile faded from my face, as I looked at the scene that as it passed my eyes slowly reached my brain.
Jesus, I wished I could disappear swallowed up by the floor.
He had a dark blue suit, a white shirt stretched over the chest I knew and a thin tie, the same color as the suit.
She, light eyes, blond hair, smooth cut into a bob that just touched her shoulders: she was wearing a long black dress that left her back bare, and had a shell-shaped evening bag in her hand.
On the left ring finger together with the wedding ring a cascade of diamonds glittering so much that it attracted everyone's attention.
While Pietro was talking with the managers of other stores, the director’s wife turned to Pietro's
wife:
"My dear, you really are a splendor, and what a beautiful ring! Is it a present from Pietro?"
"Oh, yes, he gave it to me a few days ago, and just think, it wasn’t an anniversary!"
"My dear, watch out, men are real devils, they always know how to make us forgive them even for something that we will never know about!"
I felt as if I was living in a nightmare: my cheeks were on fire, my hands were like ice and I had a huge desire to cry.
As soon as I was sure that my legs would support me, I headed for the bathroom, with an uncertain step.
I opened the glass door that led into the dressing room and then everything disappeared.
***
In the distance I heard a voice calling me,
lovingly.
"Mysia dear, what’s wrong, come on open your eyes. You gave us take a nice scare darling."
The director’s wife caressed my neck gently and stared at me with genuinely worried eyes.
Now I remembered... Pietro with his wife, the bathroom, then total darkness.
With a quizzical gaze, perhaps reading all the questions that were crowding my mind, Mrs. Olga explained what had happened.
"Dear, I saw you coming to the bathroom with such an uncertain step that I thought I would follow you to make sure you were alright, and instead I found you slumped on the ground, unconscious. Maybe you suffer from low
