Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Yeah?” he snorted. “Give a shit about how you can use her then ignore her, seems like.”
“The fuck, man? You wanna marry her?” I asked, anger growing.
“I want you to take care of the woman you stood in front of a priest with and promised before God to take care of. I want to stop seeing her eyes all swollen and red every goddamn morning when I bring her breakfast. I want to stop seeing her blooded cuticles every afternoon from fussing with them because she’s lonely and anxious and has no one to tell that to.”
“Wh—“
“I know you got nobody, man. I get that you don’t have a little sister that you can see in her shoes. I do. And I wouldn’t blame them if Nico and his brothers all showed up here to drag your ass down to the docks and take you out for what you’ve done to their sister.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Dav said, coming into the kitchen, his arms raised in a peacemaking gesture. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about over here, but it’s starting to get a little loud. And you look like you’re about to come to blows,” he said, looking between the two of us. “You need a referee?”
“No,” Elian said, glaring at me for another second, then turning away. “I’m leaving.”
And with that, he was gone.
I found myself staring down in the garbage can, thinking of Lore in the apartment, moving around the kitchen, stirring sauce, straining pasta, putting hours of work into something that she ended up throwing in the trash when I never showed up to eat it with her.
I didn’t feel guilt often.
In my life, you had to make a lot of tough decisions, often doing it without any time to think it over. You just had to trust your gut. Had to believe that you were doing the best you could in any situation. So there was nothing to get down on yourself about.
But that strange churning feeling in my stomach? That felt a lot like guilt.
“What are we looking at?” Dav asked, glancing down into the can.
But I quickly grabbed it, tossing it back into the holder, then kicked the track until the can disappeared under the sink again.
“Get everyone out of here,” I said, glancing over to see something I’d somehow missed before.
The dining table.
Set for two.
New candlestick holders set on it.
The churning intensified as I realized everything Elian said, as much as he might have been pushing a line to do it with his chest like that, was probably right.
By the time I made it across the apartment, I could hear Dav telling everyone it was time to clear out.
I stormed upstairs, the churning feeling in my stomach working its way up my throat.
Was she really crying every day? Elian wouldn’t need to make that shit up, right?
I didn’t have to work hard to imagine that she picked herself raw with anxiety.
I’d known since the minute I saw her at the church that she was meek and unsure of herself. I mean she’d been vibrating with nerves when I’d taken her hand.
She’d even been too anxious to tell me that she was a virgin before I surged inside of her, even though it wouldn’t have been as awful for her as it had been if she’d said something.
Of course she wasn’t going to be comfortable voicing her desires and objections to her new life to anyone.
Let alone me.
The one who forced her into this situation.
Hell, I wasn’t even around often enough for her to do so if she found the courage.
“The fuck?” I said, pushing open the bedroom door, finding the bed empty. “Lore?” I called, stepping into the bathroom, but finding that empty as well.
By the time I walked back out of the room, the apartment was abandoned below, drinks and food still scattered all around from Dav rushing everyone out of the door.
Sucking in a deep breath, I moved across the catwalk to the other balcony, pausing at the closed door I was met with.
Reaching for the knob, I pushed it open.
And there she was.
Curled up on the bed.
In a little black dress.
She’d even dressed up for me too.
‘Cause I needed something else to feel like shit about.
I moved inward, sitting down at her feet.
“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” she said, face buried in the pillow like she was talking to it, not to me, but I had to admire her for finding her balls enough to tell me off.
“Tough shit,” I said, then winced.
That was what I’d say to one of my capos.
Not how I was supposed to speak to my wife.
“Go away, Renzo,” she said, voice sounding small and raw.
“Can’t do that.”
But I also had no fucking idea how to make this right either.
She mumbled something then to herself. I wasn’t meant to make it out, but I could have sworn she said something about how I was good at going away.