Don Bowed To Me Chapter 14
That evening.
I got back to my apartment in Tribeca after work.
The Manhattan skyline stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The lights atop the Empire State Building glowed a soft warm white.
I opened a bottle of red, cut a piece of cheese, and settled on the sofa to review tomorrow’s meeting materials.
The doorbell rang.
Nobody was supposed to be here at this hour.
I looked through the peephole.
Isabella was standing outside.
She had lost a lot of weight.
No makeup. Deep shadows under her eyes.
No Chanel bag in her hand. Just a cheap canvas tote.
I opened the door.
Didn’t let her in.
“Hazel…”
Her voice was so hoarse she barely sounded like herself.
“I know I have no right to come here.”
“But right now, I truly have nowhere else to go.”
“Matteo threw me out. McKinsey is going to fire me. Mom and Dad told me not to come back to Newport. They said I’ve disgraced the Vitale name.”
“Elliot blocked me.”
“I’m begging you. Let me stay here for a few days.”
“Just a few days. I’ll get back on my feet soon.”
I looked at her.
Ten years ago, I stood at the door of that house on Bellevue.
Burning with fever.
Nobody opened the door for me.
I looked at her with a calm expression.
“Isabella.”
“I remember what you said at the wedding, in front of every Family on the coast.”
“‘My sister is a barista in Queens. Eighteen an hour, plus tips.'”
“‘Single gentlemen, please give her a chance to join a Family.'”
Isabella’s face went white.
“Hazel, I didn’t know back then…”
I interrupted her.
“Whether you knew or not isn’t the point.”
“What matters is that you were willing to say those cruel things at wedding.”
“Now that you need me, you suddenly remember I’m your sister.”
“Isabella, maybe you don’t remember the hurt you caused me, but I always will.”
I closed the door.
Six months later.
I was sitting in my office at MIT.
The Charles River stretched outside the window.
Sailboats drifted across the water.
The sky was that clean, deep blue you only get in Cambridge.
Emma knocked and came in.
“Dr. Vitale. Email from the Department of Defense. They want you to chair the classified review panel for the next cycle.”
I made a small sound of acknowledgment.
“Reply that I accept.”
Emma smiled.
“Also, today is your birthday. Happy birthday.”
I paused.
“Thank you.”
Emma stepped out.
I was alone in the office.
My phone screen lit up.
A text from Isabella.
【Hazel, today is your birthday.】
【I remember every year on your birthday, Mom would buy me a cake. She said since our birthdays were only a month apart, we could celebrate together.】
【None of those cakes ever had your name on them.】
【I’m sorry.】
【Happy birthday.】
I stared at the message for a long time.
In the end, I deleted it and blocked her.
I turned off the phone and walked to the window.
The Cambridge afternoon sun spilled across the Charles River.
The water shimmered.
The eighteen-year-old girl curled up on the living room couch, waking up drenched in sweat.
The girl bleeding from her forehead after a mug hit her, kneeling to pick up a fifty-dollar bill.
The girl who cried into her blanket so many nights because her family loved someone else more.
All of them had drifted so far, so far away from me.
The Hazel Vitale who existed now didn’t need anyone’s apology.
Didn’t lack anyone’s approval.
She was standing high enough now.
High enough that the pain that used to keep her awake, looking down from where she was, was nothing more than a grain of dust beneath her feet.
Outside the window, a sailboat drifted slowly across the Charles River.
I picked up the coffee on my desk and took a sip.
It was sweet.