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“To Armand Gallo,” Rafe says gruffly, holding his glass out in front of himself.
“Armand.” The three of us say together, raising our glasses and clinking them together.
“Let’s get this shit over with,” Rafe says. “I don’t want to be here any longer than absolutely necessary.”
His fingers twine with mine, resting on his lap. We wait patiently as people start to fill the room, milling about and eating the food set forth for this occasion. One by one, people approach us, paying their respects and kissing Rafe’s ass. His face remains a mask of indifference while he nods in the appropriate place. Every once in a while he will gesture to Dom and the person will be escorted out of the room before returning ten or fifteen minutes later. I’m not sure what that is about but I think they might be paying actual tributes to my husband.
It’s almost an hour when an older woman approaches. Rafe rises from his seat and kisses both the woman’s cheeks. They speak lowly in Greek before he turns to me.
“This is my wife, Willow. Willow, this is my father’s sister, Annalys.” Rafe introduces us but the woman barely glances at me.
“I want to know, Raphael,” she says in a sharp tone. “Why did he remain in America?”
Her English is harsh and it’s clear that it’s not a language she speaks often.
“You know my father followed his own mind.”
“I saw him the day he left. He said he wouldn’t be more than two or three days.” Her frown is aimed at Rafe before she turns it on me.
“Annalys,” Rafe says lowly.
“What do you know, girl?” she asks me and for a moment I am shocked.
I quickly regain my composure before stepping closer to the woman. I keep my tone soft.
“I know that Armand Gallo did what he wanted. Even in the short time I knew him, that much was clear. I know I am grateful for the time I got to spend with him. I am aware that you are grieving and that you are in pain but know this. If you cause a scene or speak to my husband with anything less than the respect he deserves, I will have you put out so fast your head will spin. Καταλαβα?νουν?”
She stares at me in shock before looking at Rafe. He doesn’t turn his attention back to her, keeping it focused on the side of my face.
“He liked this one, didn’t he?” Annalys asked after a tense moment of silence.
“He did,” Rafe says, pride infusing his tone.
“Then it is good he spent time with her before he left us. Don’t mess this up, Raphael. She’s a good wife.”
With those parting words she turns in a fluff of black lace before stepping to an older man and walking out, her arm hooked in his.
“Jesus wept,” Dom curses from his spot, watching us closely.
Regina bursts out giggling and for the first time I survey the people surrounding us. Everyone is blatantly staring and I have no idea why.
“Excuse me,” I say softly to Rafe before walking out of the gathering to look for a bathroom to hide in. I have no idea what the hell just came over me and I need a minute to pull myself together without all present scrutinizing my every move.
As the door swings closed an expensive dress shoe stops it before Rafe slips inside and locks it behind him. His hands thread through my hair as his lips crash down on mine in what is not simply a kiss but devouring.
“Fuck, wife,” he murmurs against my lips when he finally pulls away.
“I don’t know what I did, but if this is my reward I might do it again,” I say with a smile.
“Annalys hasn’t approved of any woman marrying into the Gallo family since the beginning of time, I think. You are basically a miracle.”
“Because I snapped at her?”
“Because you did what she believes all good wives should do. You supported your husband blindly. Without knowing the situation or the repercussions of your choice.”
“Your family is weird.”
For the first time since Armand died, Rafe laughs and I feel like weeping.
