Chapter 34 - To Stay or Leave

That kiss was something I have never felt before. Even as days passed by, I couldn't forget the way it made me feel, the way he makes me feel. I do care not about the things that prevent me from going forward with my feelings toward him. All I can think about is how much I'm starting to love him.

What if he simply got carried away? After the kiss, neither of us talked about it and I'm uncertain about a lot of things between us. I'm scared to bring it up and I sense that he feels the same way too.

Now, sitting by the ledge of the bridge, drawing the banks of Arno, I debated whether I should go towards him and talk about that kiss or not.

I stay rooted in my place, still thinking about what I should do when someone blocked my view. When I look up, it was Giuliano. My first instinct upon seeing him is to run away, and I did, however, his arm swiftly caged me in, preventing me to go any further.

"What are you doing?" I hissed as I try fervently to break free from his hold. "Let me go!" I plead.

"Please, Antonia. Calm down." I look around to see if anyone is watching us in fear, but when he leaned his head closer to me and when his arms suddenly embrace me tenderly so, my fear slowly dissipates. "Please don't run away from me."

I felt his vulnerability as he pulls me closer to him. My hesitance softly became something else. Empathy. When I turn to face him, his face is soft, gentle, and wretched.

"Forgive me, I hate to keep my distance from you but I have no choice. Please, I need to leave."

I was about to walk away when he held my arms, imploring me to stay. "I know. I'll take care of it. You do not need to fear anything anymore, just please do not go. I cannot play this silly thing anymore."

I like Giuliano, but things aren't the same anymore. Especially after the kiss between Botticelli and I shared. Smiling bitterly, I reach up to Giuliano and cup his face.

Knowing whatever I say will only hurt him, I kissed him on the cheek as a farewell instead. Realizing what I meant, Giuliano closed his eyes and faces down.

I have learned to live without him for so long that I no longer know the difference between when he's around and when he is not.

It has been a quiet time for me and my family. I haven't seen Giuliano or Botticelli in a while. As I have finally closed the doors on the possibilities of me and Giuliano, Botticelli and I's relationship remains unknown.

After days of trying to look for him, I eventually stopped after an unfruitful undertaking. As I slowly lose my friends, including Da Vinci, I decided to try and live my life as normally as I could.

Alone in the church of Ognissanti, I sat down by my mother's tomb as I bring Tuscan poppies and lay them down for her. In saying goodbye to Giuliano, I was unaware that I'd be losing Botticelli as well.

So many unsaid words I have yet to say, so many things I wanted to reveal. Had I known I wouldn't see him again, I would have said something sooner.

As I lay my hand on my mother's tomb, I couldn't help but feel a bit envious of her. Even with the short amount of time shared with my father, she has managed to freely say what she felt while she could.

I remember how I used to envy my cousin Elizabeth for having my Aunt Millie around her. It's something I couldn't help but want, to have a mother to raise you no matter how much I deny it, especially to my father.

Not wanting to cry, I decided to leave. Before I could reach the door, I stumbled upon someone I wasn't expecting. Sitting by the last pew, Ailbe looks around the chapel waiting to be noticed. It's been months since I have last seen her.

Now that she's in front of me, I'm scared to walk closer to her for fear that she will simply vanish right in front of my eyes. I stood silently, and unmoving as I stare at her when she suddenly looks over at her shoulders and smiled at me. "Hello, Antonia."

I was flustered. How does she know my name? I immediately went towards her and sit next to her. "H-how do you know my name?'

Her smile is both gentle and cryptic, not giving anything away. Her steel-blue eyes looked back at mine before responding. "I have always been around. You were simply not looking."

Confused with her answer, I furrow my eyebrows as I pinch my lips. "I have been trying to find you. Why show yourself now?"

"I know you have many questions, but I can only give you one answer. Are you certain that it's the question you want answers to?"

Her voice, despite its calmness and softness, I couldn't get anything from her voice, not even her face. She's so impassive. Shaking my head no, I try to think of the things I wanted to ask. Deep in my mind, I scour with the ultimate question I want answers to and found one. "How do I get home?"

Ailbe blinks before smiling knowingly at me. "I must admit, I wasn't expecting that question. So long as you will yourself back to your time, you will find yourself there."

My frustration finally builds up upon learning the answer. "I have tried once before. It didn't work."

"You must have not wanted to leave then." I have my reservations about leaving when I almost did and it made me realize that despite not wanting to admit it, I have made a decision after all. "Now that you have that knowledge, I leave the choice to you. To stay, or to go."

I was rendered speechless. Do I dare leave or do I have enough courage to stay? I was then distracted when Ailbe poked my nose ever so lightly, just like how my father always did to me. It suddenly made me feel relaxed without noticing it.

My dad had always poked my nose whenever I'm in deep thought. He says that thinking too seriously about something can sometimes prevent you from forming a better conclusion, hence the poking of the nose to distract me a little bit.

How is it that a simple gesture made me feel at home? When I finally look up at her, she's gone.

I have yet to make a decision. I still don't know if I should go. Not everyone is given the instrument which provides the ability to travel through time. Having this very stone in my hands is a gift I have never asked for.

Out of all the people that could have to keep this, I don't know why the Suttons have this in our possession.

Now that it belongs to me, I don't know if I'm worthy of it. I'm making a mess in history and I don't know how to fix it. As I began to bite my fingers from anxiety and indecisiveness, my eyes traveled around the room, and noticed an envelope protruding among the letters that belong to my mother. Curious, I set the stone down and begin to read it.

Dear Simonetta,

Your beauty has been frequenting my mind during the day and my dreams as I sleep at night. I cannot seem to take you out of my mind. I know I shouldn't but suppressing my growing feelings for you has only made them stronger and greater. I confess my feelings to you without any hope of reciprocity but with the understanding that you have already pledged yourself to another. He's a lucky man, indeed and I envy him with every fiber of my being. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why I'm going to leave indefinitely. Feelings such as this have proven too difficult to conceal.

I'm leaving tomorrow, with a respect to your reputation. I will be by the cupola. I will be looking at the sight of my now beloved Florence before I leave as I keep your beauty in my mind and my heart.

Sincerely,

Constantine Sutton

But he didn't leave. I remember he never left until I was born, so how come he wrote this letter? Does this mean she stopped him? Intrigued, I scour my mother's things from the chest to find her journal.

When I did, I immediately sit by the table and read it. Skipping to the other entries, I found the one she wrote around the time she met my father.

'I have made a terrible mistake. It's truly wrong but I cannot deny it any longer. I love Constantine and he'll soon leave. I know I should not stop him for I am a married woman but I feel as though if I don't do something, it would be the greatest regret that I must live with for the rest of my life. God might forsake me for even considering it. I didn't mean to, but I love him too much to let him go. His letter said he'll be waiting for the cupola. I just hope I am not too late.'

When I lay down the journal, I didn't realize that I have not bothered myself in reading her journal at all. Reading it could give me a glimpse of the mother I could have had and yet I never did until now.

I feel as though I have been so indifferent to her. Growing up not knowing her or having her beside me has made me feel indifferent.

I indeed have wished for her more than I care to admit but I honestly don't know how I would feel or be like if she was. I only knew life without a mother.

Even then, I knew I would love her. If she was able to love a difficult, complicated man such as my father, I'm sure it would not have been difficult to love her back.