Bound By Power

Maria watched Lorenzo as he pushed back his chair after breakfast, his expression unusually serious. She noticed he hadn’t touched much of his food, his fork merely pushing scrambled eggs back and forth on his plate.

“Lorenzo,” Maria called, her voice soft but firm. She rose gracefully, her silk robe flowing as she walked toward the staircase. “Come with me.”

Lorenzo sighed but obediently followed her, his footsteps heavy as they ascended the grand staircase toward her bedroom. The morning sun filtered through the mansion’s large windows, casting golden beams onto the marble floor.

Once inside, Maria sat on the edge of her lavish bed, gesturing for Lorenzo to sit beside her. He hesitated before taking the chair near her dressing table instead, his legs bouncing with nervous energy.

“Can you tell me when and how this started?” Maria asked, her voice calm but laced with curiosity.

Lorenzo looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Mom, it’s a long story,” he said, his tone wary.

“Then just tell me that you’re fooling around,” Maria said, her eyes searching his. “Like you always do.”

He shook his head, a faint, humorless smile tugging at his lips. “Mom, I really love Julian,” he admitted. His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, but he didn’t shy away from her gaze. “When you were hospitalized, and when Dad and Luccia mom passed away… he was the one who held me together. In my lowest moments, he was there for me.”

Maria’s lips parted slightly, her expression unreadable. Lorenzo leaned forward, his voice growing quieter, almost as if he feared her response.

“And, Mom,” he continued, his throat tightening, “are you upset that I turned out to be bi? That I love a person… and that person is a guy?”

The room fell silent. Even the chirping birds outside seemed to hush, leaving only the faint hum of the mansion’s air conditioning. Lorenzo’s hands fidgeted in his lap, his jaw tightening as he awaited her reaction.

Maria reached out and placed a hand on his knee, her touch gentle but firm. “Son,” she began, her voice trembling with emotion. “You’ve always known that in this whole world, no one matters to me as much as you do. No one is truly mine… except you.”

Lorenzo’s heart clenched at her words, but then she hesitated.

“But…”

His eyes snapped to hers, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye. “But what, Mom?” he asked, his voice breaking with impatience.

Maria’s own tears welled up as she reached out to wipe his cheek, her fingers lingering to caress his face. “But it surprises me,” she said, her lips curving into a tender smile, “that a 17-year-old boy has managed to bind you so completely with his love.”

Lorenzo blinked in shock, unprepared for the warmth in her voice or the affection in her smile.

“Lorrie,” she continued, using the nickname she hadn’t called him in years, “how could you ever think I would hate you? Your identity? Your love?” She shook her head as a tear escaped her eye, glistening like a diamond in the sunlight. “Whoever has won your heart… there must be something extraordinary about him. How could I hate what makes your heart happy?”

Overwhelmed, Lorenzo leaned forward, pulling her into a tight embrace. Maria wrapped her arms around him, her fingers lightly stroking his back as she spoke.

“But, Lorrie,” she said softly, her voice muffled against his shoulder, “he’s still 17, and you’re 23. You’ll have to wait for him to grow up before you can truly be together.”