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"How about I call you the love of my life, hmm?"
"Am I, though?" I swallow, "I am beginning to think you don’t really understand the meaning of the word love."
"And you do?"
I nod. "It’s what I felt for the child I carried," I press my fingers against my stomach. "It’s what I feel for you, Michael."
"Love," he smirks, "is overrated. It’s sex that matters, and the ability to fuck who you want, when you want. Speaking of…do you want me to fuck you, Beauty?"
"I lost our child not four days ago. Do you think I want to be fucked, asshole?"
"I think," he looks me up and down, "I could take your ass. That wouldn’t hurt any of the other parts now, would it?"
I snap my head back, "Fuck you, Michael. Don’t do this to us, please. Just tell me all of this is an act, that you are simply doing this to piss me off so you can get me to leave."
"This," he yawns, "is me, Beauty. The real me. The man you married."
"The man I married was not only in touch with his emotions, but he also had the courage to express them. He wouldn't have put me through this…" I wave a hand at the space between us, "whatever this is."
"This is called scratching an itch. Speaking of," he cracks his neck, "you joining us or what?"
"No."
"Then you may as well leave, babe."
"You sure, Michael?" I wipe the tear that has somehow squeezed out of the corner of my eye. "Once I am gone, I won’t return."
"Don’t take this too badly," he gestures to the woman between his legs. "It’s normal for us Mafia guys to have women on the side, you know. It had to happen sooner or later. Best you see it now, so there are no more illusions."
"You told me that you wouldn't fuck anyone else. You swore that you took your vows to me seriously."
He shrugs. "Guess I lied."
Anger thrums at my temples. I draw in a breath and my lungs burn. I take a step forward and that’s when she grips his thighs, tips her head, and I can all but sense her taking him down her throat. My heart squeezes in on itself. My stomach seems to bottom out and specks of darkness blink at the corners of my vision. Damn, if I am going to faint here, in front of him and that…that…whoever that is. I spin on my feet, stagger to the door, then step out.
"Shut the door behind you, would you?"
His voice follows me out as I slam the door shut behind me. I lean against it, drawing in a breath, then another. Force myself to put one foot in front of the other. I reach my room, manage to shut the door behind me. Andy walks over and purrs as he weaves between my legs. I sink down, gather him close, and burst into tears. Fuck him, fuck the Mafia, fuck this bloody town. I am getting out of here, before he does something else that’s going to humiliate me further.
His fingers had tightened on the back of her head, his biceps bulging with the effort. He dared allow her to feel the thickness of his cock? He dared let her kneel in front of him, allowed her to take the position that belongs only to me? He dared...let another woman close enough to smell him, to put her lips on him, to wind her fingers about his massive thighs? To touch what is mine?
Fuck. This. Shit.
I rise to my feet and begin to pack. Ten minutes later, I am done. I’ve only packed a couple of dresses, underwear, the essentials, and that’s it. I am not going to take anything else that…that bastard bought for me. Andy rolls around on the carpet, then springs up to chase a ball of yarn that I had tossed his way earlier. How the hell am I going to carry him, though? Of course, he was given to me by Michael too, but no way, am I going to leave him behind.
There’s a knock on the door and before I can call out, it opens. Cassandra walks in carrying a pet carrier with her. She holds it out to me without saying anything.
"He told you, eh?" I swallow back the anger that clogs my throat. Asshole couldn’t wait to get me out of his home, apparently. I walk over, grab the pet carrier and place it near Andy who, of course, decides that’s the moment he wants to run away. He darts into the bathroom and I blow out a breath.
"I’ll get him, while you get dressed," she murmurs.
She walks toward the bathroom and I change into a pair of jeans and a shirt, both of which had appeared in the closet, along with a pair of sneakers. All of these things which Michael had gotten for me, in my size, and without my having to ask for anything. He’d known how much I needed to feel comfortable in those early days of my pregnancy. It was as if he’d read my mind and gleaned exactly how I wanted to be taken care of…without smothering me. And now…
He was getting a blow job from another woman? Fuck. Why the hell did he have to do that? Even if it was all an act… But it wasn’t. It had seemed all too fucking real from where I was.
There’s another knock on the door. I snarl at the back of my throat. What the hell is this? Paddington station, where everyone comes and goes as they want? The knock comes again and I call out, "Come in."
Adrian opens the door. He glances past me to where Cassandra has stepped back into the room. She falters and the air seems to buzz with some unsaid emotion. I glance between them, am about to speak, then change my mind. Whatever. I have enough of my own shit to deal with.
