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I take the paper, unwrap it and find her ring."Che cazzo!"I stare at the ring, then notice the writing on the paper. I straighten it out, and begin to read.
Capo (or should I call you Don?),
I know you are going to be angry when you read this, but please, can you give me a chance to explain? I am leaving you, not because I don’t love you. Not even because you haven’t yet told me that you love me, which you do (and which I know, by the way, even though you’ve been adamant not to admit it to me so far). I am not leaving you because our relationship started out in the most unorthodox way, or because you’ll never leave the Mafia. Okay, that last thing… Maybe that has somewhat to do with it.
But, Capo, when that bullet hit you… It also hit me. It hurt me when it sliced through your flesh. I bled when you did.
I feel everything you do, Capo, just as I know you do too. I’d never ask you to give up your way of life… It’s what makes you who you are. It is a part of you. It’s even one of the things that attracts me to you, to be honest. But… I also can’t stand the thought of you being hurt again.
The thought that one day there’ll be a knock on the door and someone will tell me that you are gone… Like Xander… Like how I almost died… It would be much, much worse if it were to happen to you, Capo. I don’t think I could survive it, actually.
And…I know, being a Don’s wife means I need to be prepared for the worst. A bit like being a soldier’s wife, you know? You just have to always be ready to have the rug pulled out of from underneath you. And maybe I will be… Maybe I won’t… But I need to arrive at that conclusion for myself.
As long as I am with you, I can’t think. When you touch me, I lose sight of everything else except wanting to throw myself at your feet and allow you to have your way with me… There you have it—the 'naked' truth. Pun intended.
So, I ask you to give me this time away, so I can think for myself. So I can figure out if this is how I want to spend the rest of my days…as the wife of a Don…or…or… I can’t even contemplate the other scenario…but it’s something I need to be open to, at least, considering.
If you love me at all, and I know that you do, I ask that you not track me. Do not come in search of me. Please, give me this space to figure out what I truly want for myself.
Yours,
Beauty aka Bellezza aka Karma
P.S. How is it that you have so many nicknames for me and I haven’t even thought of one for you?
P.P.S. I am leaving Andy to keep you company.
I glance up as Adrian walks in holding the pet carrier. He holds it up and Andy’s baleful gaze greets me. He glares at me, then retreats to the side of the cage. Fuck, the cat is moping, all right. Probably misses her.
If she thinks that she can flounce out of my life like that, she has another think coming. I sit up, ignore the pain that grips my side. I grab the IV and yank it out of my arm, wincing as the tape used to hold it in place tears off some of my skin, Blood drips down my arm and onto the floor. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and rise to my feet, only to fall back against the bed frame.
"Cazzo!"I growl, try to straighten again and my head spins.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Christian growls.
I straighten again, manage to take a couple of steps before my knees threaten to give way. Massimo grabs my unhurt shoulder and I shake him off, "I am going after her."
"And I assume she specifically asked you not to?" he retorts.
I turn on him, "Did you read my note, asshole? If you did—"
"You really think I’d read the note that your wife entrusted to me before she left?"
I glare at him, then shake my head. "Forgive me," I mumble. "I’m, clearly, losing perspective."
"And she needs to gain perspective." Massimo lowers his chin, "Clearly, that's why she left. I assume she also asked you to give her space?"
When I glare at him, he raises a shoulder, "You need to respect that."
"And you are an expert on relationships now?"
"No," Seb interrupts, "none of us are, but we’ve seen the two of you engaged in this push-pull of a relationship, and even to jerk-faces like us— and I say that in the most loving way possible—it’s clear that both of you need to sort your own shit out first."
"And that’s exactly what she’s doing," Luca adds.
"How? First, by taking your help to run away from me, and now, by leaving me?" I scowl.
"You know that old adage about letting someone you love go and if they love you, they’ll come back?" Christian drawls and I turn on him.
