I still remember how alone, how lost, I felt, even though there were dozens of people there to pay their respects that day.
Lorenzo had been one of them. He wears the same blank expression today as he did back then. I hadn’t known who he was. He or the young man with him.
The realization hits me hard.
Angelo had stood behind me when I watched my stepmother throw lilies onto the polished mahogany coffin. He’d brushed his fingers across my hand when he and his father walked away toward their car. A small token of kindness, but one that had helped me feel less forgotten. If only for a few brief moments.
Does he remember that day?
I slant a sideways glance in his direction, but he’s busy imitating a statue: stoic and silent. Lorenzo fidgets as the priest dithers, and then the service finally draws to a close.
A few people step forward to drop flowers into the open grave.
Ronald’s old neighbors grumble about the weather; most of them look at least eighty. Lorenzo hurries off with his guards in tow, leaving me with Angelo, Fina, and their guards while the other mourners linger, talking among themselves.
A woman with short gray hair and bright pink lipstick picks her way across the grass while leaning on a cane. She stops in front of Angelo.
“Thank you. It was a nice service,” she says.
“Of course. He was a loyal employee.” The woman nods.
“A few of us are heading to a bar for drinks. You’re welcome to come along.” She glances behind me and half-smiles. “You and your hot friend.”
My mouth drops, and I fight against the chuckles that threaten to escape. Laughing at a funeral isn’t the done thing.
“You mean Kane?” I ask her.
“Yeah. Your husband reckons he’s single.”
I can’t see Kane’s face, but I’d put good money on him rolling his eyes.
“Oh, he’s single.” This ridiculous conversation is a welcome respite from my maudlin thoughts. “He loves older women, and we’d love to have a drink with you and your friends.”
To my surprise, Angelo doesn’t pull rank and insist on taking me home. Instead, he lets Kane drive us to a small roadside tavern where there’s a table filled with cakes, sandwiches, and large pots of iced tea and hot coffee.
It brings home that Ronald, who I never met, had friends that cared for him, even if he was never lucky enough to find love.
The old ladies swarm around Kane the moment he sets foot inside the place. They squeeze his biceps, cooing about how big and strong he is while tittering to each other.
He doesn’t once complain, but the dark look he throws me says he plans to get his own back at some point. Not that I care. That bastard owes me big time. I still haven’t forgiven him for sticking a needle in my neck.
“It’s nice of you to come,” I tell Angelo when he steers me toward a table.
“Ronald was a good guy. It’s not a big deal.” He shrugs while scanning the room. There are several men posted outside, but he doesn’t seem worried about any potential security threats.
“It’s still nice of you. Most men in your position wouldn’t make such a gesture.” I’m thinking of his father when I say the words. Lorenzo wouldn’t be seen dead in a bar like this.
Angelo doesn’t acknowledge my unspoken criticism of his father. He makes sure I have a drink and some food, and when a woman comes over to chat, he smiles and makes conversation like a normal person, not a gangster. It’s a side of him I never expected to see, and it makes me think back to that day in the cemetery where a quiet young man reached out to let me know I wasn’t alone.
It’s late by the time we arrive back at the mansion. To my surprise, Angelo follows me into the house, slipping off his jacket along the way. The sight of him in a plain white shirt unbuttoned at the neck makes my breath hitch.
I force myself to look away before I start drooling. He may be my husband on paper, but I still hate him.
At least that’s what I tell myself. In truth, my feelings are a mess. He’s an asshole, but he’s also not the man I thought he was.
“You’re staying?” I ask when the silence between us lengthens.
He raises one eyebrow while pulling a glass tumbler from a cupboard. “Got a problem with that?”
