“Why did he do that?” I asked, putting the paper aside.
She squirmed under my gaze. “I don’t know. Because I’m a girl and girls aren’t trustworthy with money. At least that’s what Federico told me.”
No, I didn’t like that. That bothered me.
“You may have as much money as you want, whenever you want it,” I said. “You don’t have to justify what you spend it on. Understood?”
Her eyes were wide as she nodded.
“Are you…angry?” she asked, quietly.
“Not with you.”
“With my stepfather?”
I leaned across the table to pour myself coffee from the French press, but she was quicker. Sitting back, I watched her fill a mug and pass it to me. The sass had disappeared from her eyes and I caught a hint of softness in them as they locked with mine for a second.
“Honestly, yes,” I admitted. “And with your brothers.”
“You’re friends with my brothers.”
“I was,” I said. “I haven’t seen them since the wedding. I was…taken aback by seeing the way they treated you. Was it always like that? Even when you were a little girl?”
“I was eight when my mother married my stepfather,” she said slowly. “Everything was fine at first and I was really excited to have a family. But then my twin brother started getting along really well with my stepbrothers and they didn’t want to play with me anymore. It wasn’t until I was in middle school that things really changed.”
“What changed?”
“I mean…I started growing up and my mother wouldn’t let me play outside anymore. She said it wasn’t for girls. My twin brother stopped putting in any effort with me because I wasn’t allowed to do anything or go anywhere. I think my mother was just trying to keep me safe, but it alienated me.”
There was a long silence and she sniffed, but her eyes were dry.
“Sorry, this is a stupid, boring story,” she said.
“I asked you because I want to know. Keep talking.”
“Okay, but it’s nothing special,” she said, shrugging. “When I was thirteen, I got my period and my mother moved me up to the tower room. That was when things started getting bad.”
“Why would she do that?” I stared at her, confused.
“She said no one can know that I got periods because it was…well, gross was the word she used. The tower room has a private bathroom,” she said, wincing. “She told me it wasn’t something I could talk about and that I needed to hide it because it made men uncomfortable and they thought it was disgusting.”
“That’s a bit overkill,” I said lightly.
She chewed her lip, glancing up at me.
“Do you?”
“Do I find periods disgusting?” I said. “No, I am a thirty-five year old adult man. I found it mildly disgusting when I shot a man in the head once and his brains came out his right ear. But I don’t find it remotely disgusting that you bleed.”
She studied me in silence and I could tell she didn’t believe me. And I didn’t blame her. It was clear she’d been conditioned for a long time to believe that her body was shameful, but also sexual and useful for the purposes of power and money.
I wasn’t sure what to say to her. I knew that a lifetime of being told something didn’t just wash away in a moment. And I knew it took years, if it was even possible, to recover from that kind of conditioning. After all, I’d spent most of my childhood being called a selfish monster and my adult life being told I was the prettiest man on earth. It had fucked up my head just as much.
“That was one of the longest conversations my mother had with me for a while,” she said quietly. “Until my wedding day. She was really nice that morning and so was my stepfather. I thought maybe things would be different…but no one has called or texted me since I left. I mean, they are in Italy, so that makes sense.”
I nodded, although I knew that was a bullshit excuse.
She wiped her nose on her napkin, blinking hard. I could see the glitter of wetness on her lashes.