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I closed my eyes because the world swayed aroundme. That wasn’t it at all. Don Giordano was going to do that anyway, and he never used the marriage as a tool for my father to get back what our family had lost.
“Regardless, Dante, she loves you. Trust me on that,” his friend persisted, and I wished he’d stop.
Yes, I loved Dante. He was my husband, after all. But no love could withstand what we’d gone through, though I still kept dreaming like a fool.
“I wonder if we have to continue being married,” Dante said softly, crushing me. “Nonno is dead, and there’s no need to act anymore.”
“You sure?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“So, you’re not sure?”
Dante didn’t say anything.
“Anything going on between you and that lawyer of yours?” his friend asked.
Tears welled in my eyes. What? Was Dante having an affair? Oh no! But it made sense, didn’t it?
“Lucia and I are…well, we’re friends, you know that.”
Lucia Cambareri! She worked with Dante. She was a lawyer. I’d seen them together yesterday at the funeral and several other times. Had he been sleeping with her the whole of the last year? Had he come to our bed after he’d been with her?
“But you used to be lovers?”
“A long while back. She wanted more. I wasn’tready. Sometimes, I wonder if she’d have made me a better wife.”
Nausea roiled inside of me.
“She seems like…well…a lawyer. Tough as nails. Is that what you really want in a life partner?”
“She’s a brilliant lawyer. Smart. Italian. More Italian than Elysa.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean demanded.
“Elysa was raised in New York. She’s American.”
“So am I.”
Dante laughed. “It’s just…we don’t fit, Dean. She works at a bistro serving food.”
“Remember how I thought Elika wasn’t good enough for me because she was a hotel maid?” his friend said.
I was liking this Elika woman more and more.
“That’s different, and you know it. Elysa and I are in a marriage of convenience. We are friendly, and that’s about it.”
“Have you been cheating on her with Lucia?”
“Fuck no! You know me better than that.”
I let out a breath of relief.
“But you want to,” his friend surmised.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t seem to know a lot.”