Hidden Heart (30 page)

Tessa’s life wasn’t as
tumultuous as it used to be. Nor did she meet with her friends,
even though she had been invited to several gatherings, theater
plays, and movies. Not everyone knew exactly what happened, but she
didn’t feel ready to talk about it, either. At Chiara and Octavia’s
insistence, she looked for therapists who specialized in assault
and rape victims. Her first appointment was a total fiasco, with an
older woman, who kept staring at her above thick-framed spectacles
and seemed more interested in how the rape happened than what her
emotional state was. She had left the office and when the assistant
asked her to book the next appointment, she told her the woman
needed a therapist herself.

Tessa threw herself at work
and kept herself busy with the house renovation. She spent her days
making plans and lists, visiting stores, deciding on flooring, wood
and tile, and meeting with various contractors. Being around men in
general frightened her. The first day workers showed up on her
steps, she let them in, but snatched her cell and hid in the
bathroom while sweat dripped between her breasts and her hands
shook uncontrollably. Frantic, she called Chiara crying and telling
her she couldn’t do it, she couldn’t rebuild her life fearing human
beings, even her own shadow. It took her half an hour to emerge
from the bathroom, and only after Chiara reassured her countless
times nothing bad would happen; those men had come to work, not to
assault her.

Her house soon became a
construction site. From early morning till late in the night Tessa
worked on getting all the necessary supplies for the construction
crew; electricians replaced the old circuits with new ones, which
would sustain the new AC system. Painters scrubbed down the old
paint, patching up and repainting ceilings and walls. Several
workers replaced the old tub and sink, making room for newer more
modern ones. She also decided to replace all the windows with more
energy efficient ones, a costly investment but worth it down the
road. She replaced all the interior doors as well as the front door
with a massive metallic one, just to make sure no uninvited people
would ever enter. She also had a security system installed that
gave her a sense of safety, something also lost since the
attack.

Sometimes Tessa had better
days; sometimes she struggled to even get up in the morning, not
finding any motivation to keep fighting to stay alive. One night,
after the last worker had left and she checked on all the doors and
windows for the third time, Tessa lay on the empty floor and wept
overcome by loneliness. In many ways, her stale house represented
her broken life. Each bare wall, each broken tile represented her
empty heart and soul, mutilated and stripped of emotion. Would she
ever feel normal again? Would she ever know the warmth of an
embrace without panicking, the intimacy of a kiss without
revulsion?

The renovation slowed
around Christmas with workers spending the holiday with their
families. She took that time to go through boxes of her mother’s
stuff as well as through her own. Her expensive outfits, brand-name
shoes and purses remained boxed. Half a year ago, all those items
meant a lot to her, but not today. She found them frivolous and
part of a past she had no intention of returning to. She divided
the storage unit boxes into two stacks: ones she wanted—a lot of
unopened mail from the months she spent in the mountains, photos,
books, several souvenirs—and boxes she planned on giving away to
whoever was in need. Her mama’s antique desk and rocking chair were
the only furniture pieces she decided to keep.

Chiara surprised her for
Christmas and flew to Bucharest for a week. Her bubbly personality
and enthusiasm rubbed off even on Tessa and New Year’s Eve found
them closer than ever.

***

The steel kettle whistled
in the corner on an improvised electric plate. It radiated some
heat, though not enough. Clad in thick pajamas, bundled under heavy
covers, Tessa and Chiara browsed through family photo
albums.

The house was a total
disaster with cement sacks everywhere, wires hanging down from the
walls, piles of tile and wood in the middle of the rooms. They
didn’t have hot water and the heaters had yet to be installed, but
that didn’t stop them from having a good time.

“
Do you even wonder who he
was?” Chiara asked sprawled on the air mattress in Tessa’s
bedroom.

Tessa got up, poured hot
tea in two mugs and returned to her mattress. “Who he was who?” she
asked.

“
Your biological
father.”

“
Oh,
him
.” Tessa frowned, thought for a
moment and said, “Yes, sometimes.” She shrugged, flipped another
page with photos and said, “I mean, part of me wants to know who he
was, but the other part thinks, why bother? I have no name, no
photo of him, no information other than he screwed up my mama. And
even if I have an insatiable curiosity about him, we don’t have in
this country any way of investigating the matter. I doubt I have
ever heard of a detective type service. Where would I
start?”

“
Well, how about asking
Mama’s friends if they ever saw or heard anything? How about Dina?
They worked together in the same hospital. They were good friends,
weren’t they?”

“
Hmm. This sounds kind of
awkward. I don’t know how to approach Dina; I’ve known Victor for
so many years and have been close friends with his family, but this
is such a personal matter, I don’t know if I can talk to her about
it. It’s about
our own
mama being unfaithful, you know? How do you talk about it
without feeling ashamed?” Tessa slammed the album closed and picked
another one.

Anger with her mama seemed
to overwhelm her once more. The letter had opened a can of worms
for her and she wasn’t sure she wanted to keep digging into it for
fear of what she might find out about her biological father. Her
fragile state of mind didn’t need another blow.

A photo of her as a toddler
in a plastic tub, buck naked and grinning at the camera made her
burst into laughter.

“
Look at you, you were so
pretty! I remember this bright, innocent smile that captured
everyone’s heart. No wonder Mama couldn’t ever get mad at you,”
Chiara said and pointed a finger at the photo.

“
Yeah, I was quite a
character,” Tessa replied.

Midnight found them
giggling at old memories and other photos.

Long after they turned off
the lights, Chiara’s last words resonated in Tessa’s mind, keeping
her awake:
“I think you need to at least
try to find who he was. It’s part of who you are, a missing piece
of the puzzle of your life. Healing is a very long process and all
you have right now is time. Maybe this is what you need: to shift
the focus from how much you hurt, to something challenging. What if
you have other siblings; wouldn’t you want to know?”

***

Tessa’s apartment sold
mid-January at a surprisingly high price. As promised, she paid her
sisters for their part of the inheritance left by their
mama.

The day Tessa wired the
money into her sisters’ accounts she decided to spoil herself with
a spa appointment. She went in, but changed her mind at the last
minute, for fear of getting the massage—her repulsion for intimate
human touch was still too strong, but she got a manicure and
pedicure. Since she’d butchered it, her hair had grown to about her
shoulders, and instead of the negligent looking ponytails she’d
been wearing, she opted for a chestnut color with highlights and
asked the stylist to straighten it. She even put subtle make-up on,
then purchased a mascara, an eye-liner and a new lipstick. When she
returned home, the engineer in charge with overseeing the
construction didn’t recognize her and asked who she was looking
for. When he realized who she was and mumbled some apology, Tessa
smiled.

By the end of February
Tessa moved from the bedroom where she’d camped during the
remodeling. Once new flooring and fresh paint went in this last
room, the house would look brand new and she could move to the next
stage: furniture, appliances, drapery. Her excitement about the
transformation mounted; with each day that passed by, with each bit
of progress—no matter how little—towards the finished product,
Tessa realized that this was no longer just her house, but
her
home
, a place
she belonged, a place one day she’d be happy to be in
again.

She chose to ignore the
world outside her soul’s wall, that world seemed distant to her; no
desire to be part of it any longer. No more parties, no more
traveling, no more meetings, no more insane work hours, or events
that used to fill her life. Instead, she found peace and joy in
solitude and observing nature’s magnificence. She used her spare
time to read, sometimes just sit on a bench in a park and take in
the beauty of a bird flying, a bee’s buzzing or a sunset’s
splendor, things she previously didn’t have time to see, but so
simple and beautiful. She used to feel in constant competition with
herself, with the people around her, chasing
something,
but not anymore. She found
herself more grounded, more in tune with her own feelings and
emotions, things she used to be too busy to acknowledge.
Experiencing first hand the fragility of life opened her eyes to
the time she squandered with frivolous pursuits.

Forgiving herself for
things she had done wrong—accepting Daniel back into her life after
they split, accepting his out of control spending and tantrums,
signing the second batch of contracts without reading their
content, trusting the notary—seemed a harder process, but she began
writing them down, analyzing them instead of pushing them to the
back of her mind. She began making peace with herself, realizing
there was absolutely
nothing
she could do to change the past, but just let go
and move on rather than dwelling for too long on the same
issues.

Tessa found Mr. Borcea, a
retired police officer and convinced him to use his knowledge and
expertise to help her find out who her biological father was. Her
mama’s letter was her only proof, but without a name, a photo or an
address, all her attempts had been so far unsuccessful. The more
barriers she encountered, the more stubborn and persistent she
became. She felt as if her devotion to find her father—maybe other
half siblings—temporarily masked the hole left from Alessandro’s
absence.

Chapter 17

Tessa
arrived at the furniture store fifteen minutes early for her
appointment with the kitchen designer. She decided to stroll
through the aisles lined with furniture, paying no attention to
anyone around her. She was very deep in her thought, walking slowly
from one aisle to another. Rounding a corner, she bumped into
someone and, clumsily, she tried to step aside.

“
I’m so sorry, I didn’t
mean to—” she mumbled, trying to back off, bending at the same
time, hands reaching to catch her purse that fell off her shoulder.
Then she realized the person she bumped into
was…
Alessandro.

Simultaneously, Alessandro
went down trying to catch the purse before hitting the floor. Their
knees bumped, their faces so close they could breathe in one
another’s scent. Some of the purse’s contents spilled on the
ground, but neither Alessandro nor Tessa reached for it. They just
stared at each other.

“
Tessa?” he finally said,
his voice caught in his throat. He swallowed hard as his eyes
devoured her, like someone seeing Mona Lisa’s painting for the
first time.

As surprise faded, they
both began gathering the items—lipstick, dental floss, car keys,
and her sunglasses. Once everything was back in her purse, Tessa
began to straighten her body. Alessandro touched her upper arm,
trying to help her stand, then removed his hand as if it burned
him.

She could feel her cheeks
on fire, her heart racing at the sight of him. His brief touch felt
warm, but her skin didn’t crawl and, to her surprise, she felt no
revulsion.

“
Alessandro, what are you
doing here?” she said, clutching her purse.

“
I’m looking for a few
things. And you?” He brushed a hand through his hair and then
shoved both hands in his jeans.

That gesture, the gesture
she used to love, brought back so many memories, dear memories, and
Tessa felt overwhelmed by the weight of them.

“
My designer—I need new
furniture. I have an appointment,” she mumbled.

A tall, gorgeous brunette
came toward them, speaking Italian and gesturing towards the other
side of the store at the same time. When she finally saw Tessa, she
stopped abruptly, mid-sentence, one hand raised in the
air.

Tessa felt as if someone
knocked her off her feet, like a boxer taking a KO within seconds
of the first round of a match. Bumping into Alessandro unexpectedly
shocked her, but seeing him with
another
woman seemed
unbearable.

She would’ve run away if
the designer with whom she’d had the appointment hadn’t shown up
and rescued her from making a fool of herself. The designer
approached and said something she seemed not to comprehend, took
her elbow, and then steered her towards the office. Without saying
another word Tessa followed like a robot.