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44 : Corrupted Union
Author: Danny Walker
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

Francesca

The painting of the young woman might seem plain compared with the other more colorful pieces of art at the Met, but it’s always stood out to me. Her young

face, the small smile on her lips, the modesty she exudes, and the hope in her eyes.

“Study of a Young Woman” by Johannes Vermeer is the reason I come to the Met every month. I see myself in the girl in the painting. I could look at this painting for the rest of my life and never get bored.

People walk past me, taking in the more vibrant paintings nearby. Leaving me alone to study it, memorize its every detail. I don’t feel alone when I’m in a museum. You can’t be. Not when you’re surrounded by so much history and beauty. Compared with the chaos that is my home life, this is where I feel most at home.

Someone bumps into me, breaking me out of my concentration. I turn to see it’s a man in his thirties, fairly handsome by societal beauty standards. I expect him to apologize for bumping into me. After all, I’m the one st
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    FrancescaI leave for the airport this morning, and no one woke to say goodbye. I’m used to it by now. My siblings are busy with their own lives, and I’m ok with that. It would just be nicefor my mom to say goodbye before I leave, but she doesn’t even make the effort to come down and see me off.I think back to a few days ago when I saw Franco hit her. I still haven’t asked her about it. I want to make sure she’s ok, but I keep holding back. It’s cowardice. I just don’t know how to talk to my mother.I say a quiet goodbye to the house before meeting George outside. He’s driving me to the airport. “Ready to go, Francesca?”“I am, George.”He puts my bag away for me. “You know, I’m going to miss you.”“It’s too bad you can’t come with me, but you have your family here to be with.”We both get into the car and head for the airport. New York in the early morning hours is at its quietest, even though the occasional horn and roar of a garbage truck can be heard. The snow makes everything

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    LeoFrancesca Moretti is a pretty little thing. I can’t stop thinking about her pretty face as sit down in my brand- new therapist’s office. Today is a special occasion. Thetherapist before me is Dr. Elizabeth Shay. In her fifties, she has a golden bob and a pearl necklace. She reminds me more of a country club trophy wife than a therapist. I chose her for a reason.“Hello, Leo.” She takes a seat across from me, her Prada heels crossed at her ankles. Her office smells faintly like vanilla. Must be used to calm the crazies who come in here. The thing is, I’m not crazy. I have a purpose. “Since today is our first session together, I thought you could tell me why you wanted to see me. What are you hoping to get out of therapy?”“I need help. I’m struggling, you see, because I’m in need of a good woman.”Dr. Shay nods, keeping her expression neutral. “And what makes you feel like you need a good woman in your life?”“I’m a bit of a womanizer.” I wink at her. “Like your shoes by the way.

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    “THAT WAS COLD, MAN,” Henry says, taking a sip of his beer. We’re at some dive bar Marco owns. The barstools are falling apart, and the bar is always stained with something sticky, but out of all of Marco’s properties, this one is my favorite. It even beats out the nicer ones he owns. Henry is one of Marco’s employees, just like me, but as Marco’s second in command, I outrank every one of Marco’s other employees. I have the job they all want and know they’ll never get. “Cold.” He laughs softly.“What can I say? I love doing it. It’s fun to mess with women like that.”“I get it.” Henry smiles widely, showing off his insanely white teeth. Like, dude goes to the fucking dentist every week and uses whitening strips every day type of white. His tan skin and dark hair just make his teeth look even brighter. “If I had your charm, I’d fuck my way through every woman in this city.”“It’s not my charm. Henry. It’s my looks.” I take a swig of my beer and dodge Henry’s hand as it comes for the ba

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    FrancescaMy father, Riccardo Moretti, knew how to light up a room. When he was home, that is. Most days, he’d be busy with work, but on the odd day he’d have off,he’d make sure to spend it with my siblings and me.I was never forgotten when it came to him. The last memory I have of him still sticks with me to this day. I was fourteen at the time.He was in the kitchen, trying to pour himself a glass of orange juice, but his hands were shaking too much. Riccardo looked years younger than he really was, but at that moment, he seemed to age twenty years.No one else was in the there at the time, so I approached him, offering to help pour his juice. He gave me a kind smile. “No, Fran. I need to do this. I can’t have you and the rest of the family doing everything for me. I’m still the man of the house. I need to act like it.”I rested my hand on his, and his hand instantly stopped shaking. “Dad, let me help you.”After looking at me for a moment, he relented. “All right. Thank you, hone

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    I FORCE myself to join Emilia and Marco for dinner when the time comes. They’ve let me stay in their house. I need to show them my gratitude.I freeze when I reach the foyer and see Leo coming into the house. I try to walk past him without him noticing, but he calls out to me. Why is it that I’m normally ignored, but the one time I actually want to be, the person I don’t want to talk to notices me?With a deep breath for courage, I turn to face Leo. “Hello.” “Trying to sneak away from me?” He saunters up to mewith a charming smile. “I have to say, I’m offended. I thoughtyou Moretti girls had more manners than that.” “Sorry,” I apologize instinctually.He leans in closer, and I resist the urge to step back. “You don’t actually have to apologize for that. In fact, I should be the one apologizing. My comments to you yesterday were rude. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. You’re a guest here. Shit, you’re Marco’s family now. So, I’m sorry.”I don’t know what to say. He sounds sin

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    Leo“Who doesn’t love being told their beautiful?” I ask, gripping my beer.Henry snickers beside me. “I guess your usualcharms won’t work on her. You’ll have to think outside the box with this one.” He motions for the bartender to send another beer his way.“Francesca is a mystery, man.” I shake my head as I take a sip of my drink. “I don’t understand her.”“Well, you haven’t really tried yet. You’ve had what? One conversation? And you expected the girl to just fall into your arms?” Henry snorts, grabbing the beer the bartender hands him. “Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were.” A woman across the bar throws a smile in Henry’s direction. “Listen, man. I have a beautiful woman eyeing me up, so I’m gonna talk to her instead of listening to you whine about Francesca.”“I’ll have to think of a way to seduce her that doesn’t make her run from me.”Henry pats my back. “You do that.” He saunters over to the woman, leaving me alone.Fine. I’m determined to win this bet, but France

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