He slammed his hand down hard on the table, making me jolt, but I continued eating and ignoring him. He stood up, bumping into the table, and moved towards me. I felt myself tense, bracing for the impact, but was not expecting it when his hand swiped out, knocking my plate off the table, making it shatter to the floor.
I closed my eyes, still chewing the food in my mouth, holding the fork up mid-air.
Carlo spoke with restrained anger. “Look at me, Catalina.”
I finished chewing, with my eyes still closed, as his breathing came out heavy. Then I opened my eyes, placed the fork on the table, then looked up at my husband.
His eyes were hard and angry. “Did you hear what I said?”
In a calm voice, I said, “You said to look at you.”
His jaw tightened. “Before that?”
I shrugged. “Something about you moving your whore mistress into your room.”
His eyes narrowed, the tension rolling off of him in waves.
“That’s not even close to what I fucking said, Catalina.”
I shrugged again. It was really hard looking at the man I fell in love with, looking at me with anger and hate, but he put that look on his own face. He did this to us. There really was no going back after this.
“Well, since you want to put your dick in other women, feel free to bring them to your room.”
“Our room, Catalina.Ourroom.”
“Not anymore. You made sure of that when you put on that disgusting show for me. Which you did on purpose.”
He rubbed his hand down his face looking frustrated. “It didn’t mean anything, Catalina.”
“Oh but it did, Carlo. You reminded me I am just an arrangement, and that’s exactly how things will continue. I know I can’t leave you, but if you ever get the urge to divorce me, feel free. Nothing holding you back. Definitely not me.” I forced a smile at him. I had mastered the fake smile better than my own mother. I had practice.
He leaned down and was only a few inches from my face, feeling his breath on me. His voice was tight. “There will be no divorce. You are my wife. Nothing changes that.”
I smiled sweetly at him. “Oh well. Guess you’ll just have to get used to having your so-called wife living in the guest room while your whore sleeps in your room with you. I would think you would be happier with the new arrangement since you set all this in motion.”
He stood up. “When your done having a fucking tantrum, move your shit back toourroom. And you might as well not bother coming to the dinner. I’ll handle it myself.”
I frowned at him. “What does that mean?”
“Don’t come to dinner. You’ll have a headache or what the fuck ever excuse I come up with.”
He stormed out of the room, leaving me wondering what he meant by not coming to the dinner. I needed to be there, to show our so-called unity.
He wouldn’t invite his whore, would he? That would be disrespectful for so many reasons.
Screw him. I’ll make an appearance, but fashionably late, so he won’t suspect. And if he brings that whore, I will make a spectacle. Fuck my husband!
????????????????????
The next day, and the day before the dinner, I had an appointment with a local clinic. I had not been feeling well, making me suspicious that I was pregnant. The timing would be horrible, but pregnancies never knew about timing. If I had known I was pregnant before what I witnessed, would it have made a difference? Would he still have made a scene, or would he have continued to hide it? Would it have mattered? How long has he been sleeping with Emily? Were there others?
I couldn’t do this to myself. I would spiral. I was taught to keep control. Stand your ground. Don’t let anyone in to tear you down. Don’t give anyone power over you. I had failed miserably, but now I knew better. I knew to lock myself down again.
During the drive to the center the clinic was located at, my mind wandered. Again I wished I had been arranged into an Italian clan. Maybe Dominic Gutierrez’s clan. He had been arranged to Don Sanchez’s daughter, Sophie. The bitch was fat and she got a good one. Hell, I heard he actually fell in love with her. She’ssix months pregnant and word is he worships her. So jealous of her. Stupid bitch! And here I am with a cheating, lying whore of a husband. It wasn’t fair.
As we pulled into the center, I told the driver to stay back. I’d probably be an hour or two doing some shopping. The clinic was in a popular shopping area, thank goodness. I had also already scoped out a back entrance so the driver wouldn’t know exactly where I was going.
It took me a little longer going the long way to the clinic than I had anticipated, but it had to be done. I didn’t want Carlo to know. Not yet. If I was pregnant, I needed to figure out how it was going to go. I needed to be prepared. I would plan to stay in the guest room. I had no intention of returning to his room, and he probably would bring his whore to the room now that the discussion had happened.
