AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A grave expression flashes across his face.
Uh-oh. I said the wrong thing.
Any playfulness he had dissolves.
I attended Benita Marchetti’s funeral with my parents. It was before our marriage contract was created. I sat in the back of the cathedral and listened to the priest, and my heart hurt for Benny and Gigi. I told my mother I loved her every hour of the day after we left the funeral.
Benny had done his best to hide the pain as he went to the podium and spoke about how great of a woman his mother was. He told two stories about her loyalty and love without shedding one tear.
Me, on the other hand? I had cried as if I’d known her personally.
It was tragic. Devastating. Her death brought us together even though we didn’t know it yet.
I gulp down my champagne and pucker my lips. I’m more of a mimosa gal.
Benny grabs his glass and moves it in circles, watching the liquid splash, but doesn’t take a drink. “My mother would’ve liked you.”
His voice is somber.
His words shocking.
My heart pounds at the compliment.
That he’d say such a thing to me.
I rack my brain for the perfect response, but can’t find one.
“I don’t know,” I say, my tone as low as his. “I’m not exactly a traditional Mafia wife.”
“My mother asked my father not to allow Gigi to become a traditional Mafia wife.” He returns his glass to the table and locks eyes with me. “She didn’t want obedience when it came to love. If my mother were alive today, she’d approve of you.”
Wow.
Out of all the versions of Benny I’ve experienced, this is my favorite.
The one where my husband cuts open a piece of his soul for me.
This is how I imagined marriage would be.
Secrets unfolding.
Confessions.
Words only shared between the two of us.
Benny clears his throat and shakes his head, as if wanting to erase every emotion he’s shown. “You’d better eat. We don’t want our food getting cold.”
That version of Benny burns out.
A quick commercial break, and he slips his mask back on.
“Benny”—there’s a twinge of nervousness in my tone—“can you make me a promise?”
He finishes chewing his bite before replying, “It depends on what it is.”
“Promise me you won’t hurt my brother.” I sigh, and my voice turns almost pleading. “And please help him get out of his mess.”
He stays quiet.
