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My eyes widen. “Dante Ricci? Willingly getting rest?”
He snorts. “I know, it’s a miracle. You’re welcome to lie in bed with me if you want, but I thought I’d give you some cash to get your hair and nails done.”
I gasp, excited. With all the commotion that has happened so far in our marriage, I’ve let myself go just a bit when it comes to my appearance. I’ve lost too much weight and my auburn hair has been looking dull without my usual highlights.
“Really?” I ask, and Dante hugs me to him.
“Of course, pretty girl. Why don’t you go out and have a girl’s day?”
“I could call Marta,” I muse, and look up at him, smiling mischievously. “But then I’d need more money.”
Dante grins. “You drive a hard bargain, but you got it, baby.”
I squeal excitedly, hugging him and going to get dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans with open toed shoes so I can get a pedicure, too.
Dante enters the bedroom while I’m sliding on my shoes to hand me a stack of cash that I put into my purse, kissing him quickly.
“When you come back, we’ll have dinner, yeah?” he suggests, and I beam at him.
“Thank you, baby.”
Dante pats me on the butt as I head for the stairs, and I giggle, calling Marta. She agrees to meet me at the hair salon.
I’m humming while they file my nails and Marta stares at me curiously.
“You’re certainly in a good mood compared to last time,” she says.
“Dante’s just been wonderful,” I gush.
“I’m so happy for you,” Marta says dryly, and I can’t help but laugh a little. Her dad still hasn’t accepted that she loves Rocco. “No, but really, I am,” she assures me.
“I know you are.”
“Did you finally have the talk about the baby?” she gestures down to my still-flat stomach.
“We did. He told me he was shocked at first but then he bought a crib, told me that if I was happy, he was happy. He told me he loves me,” I say with a huge grin.
Marta raises an eyebrow. “He said that?”
I deflate, but only a little. I’m having a good day and I won’t let my negative thoughts ruin this for me. “Not in so many words, but he answered yes to my question. That’s enough, isn’t it?”
“If it’s enough for you, it’s enough for me,” she says, but then she keeps talking about it. “I wonder what his hangup is. You think it’s a bad breakup or something?”
My shoulders slump and I lose my smile. I think about Felicia Nunez and how she’d showed up at our house. Surely she wouldn’t have done that if it was really just a fling like Dante and Nico thought.
“You think it was Felicia?” I ask, unable to help myself.
Marta snorts. “That bimbo? Absolutely not.”
I giggle at Marta’s disdain and we turn our conversation to less serious matters, like how she has to sneak around at all hours to be with Rocco.
But thoughts about Dante and Felicia and their possible intense, emotional relationship keep trying to creep back into my mind. I want to trust that what Dante tells me is true, but the way I grew up...
My father was barely home until I was four or five years old, and all I remember from that time is Mama crying every night. I found out later that my father had mistresses – more than one of them. My mother assures me that all of that changed by the time I began school, but still, I think about it a lot and it clearly affects my relationships.
I blankly stare out into space and Marta nudges my shoulder as we sit at the hair dryers.
“You’re still thinking about Dante and Felicia, aren’t you?”
