I quickly check my face in the hall mirror before joining them. My feelings for him stare back at me in the reflection. “Is your shoulder bothering you?” I ask, worriedly.
“It’s fine,” he answers while busily chopping up pancetta under Dinora’s guidance. “Take a seat. It’ll be ready soon.”
“What will be ready soon?”
“He wanted to make carbonara for you,” Dinora says with a grin.
The sweetly romantic, unexpected gesture hits me in the chest like a sledgehammer. My legs start shaking again, but it’s my heart that renders me speechless. “Red? Are you okay?” Carlo asks, concernedly.
“I skipped lunch. I think I should sit.”
He rushes to my side, pulling out a chair at the table, his hand gently guiding me. I quiver under his touch, thanking him. With a final worried glance, he resumes his chopping while Dinora gives me motherly advice about the importance of not missing meals. I listen in a detached, surreal state. I stare at my wedding band and the gorgeous engagement ring he had made for me. The truth bubbles in my throat like bile. I need Dinora to leave so I can tell him. I want this to be between us. I don’t want to ruin the peace of this domestic moment either.
Suddenly, Carlo scowls, sets the knife he’s using aside and wipes off his hands before answering his phone. “Renato?”
His brother’s calling. He listens for a moment and then his eyes meet mine. Oh God, they know. I’m a dead woman. I should’ve said something right away.
“Alright, make sure the girls are guarded. I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up, telling Dinora to take the food home to her husband.
“What is it?” I whisper, terrified of whatever is the matter and even more terrified at the thought of never again being held or kissed by my husband.
“My father had another heart attack this afternoon.” Dinora and I both gasp in shock. “Mother is with him at the hospital. I’d like to take you over to my parents’ home so you can sit with the girls before Ijoin her. Renato says they’re scared and upset. Would you do that for me, Frankie?”
Flooded with relief on one hand and then fresh guilt for even feeling that way at such a time, I quickly nod. “Of course, I will. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Carlo.” Stumbling into his arms, I hug him tightly, wanting to be absolved for things he doesn’t know and wishing he knew how much I love him.
48
Carlo
"Ihate this goddamn place," Father complains from his hospital bed.
I smother a chuckle. "Who doesn't? You're going home tomorrow."
"Hmm. Is your wife here?"
"I believe so. Why?"
"I blame her for this."
"Excuse me?"
Father shakes his head, chuckling at my outrage. "She got me so agitated at the reception."
"Don't you fucking dare blame my wife for-"
"Calm down or they'll hook you up to one of these machines. What I mean is when she chastised me over Giulia, I couldn't believe how brazen she was. Brian Donnelly's daughter… That girl has more steel in her little finger than that skulking rat bastard has in his entire body."
"What are you talking about?"
"She didn't mention it?"
"No. What do you mean?"
He tells me, and I feel my heart doing one of those strange little stutters that only she can evoke. My wife.
When I step into the hallway, Francesca is sitting with Mother and the girls. "Father wants to see the girls," I tell my mother. I don’t miss the way Giulia clings to my wife’s hand until the last possible second before following the others. She’s been my sisters’ rock for the past thirty-six hours.
When I first started pursuing her, I fantasized about my spirited, red-haired siren. I liked the idea of spoiling her, of listening to her singing in the shower after I’d spent half the night fucking her. I wanted to possess her in every conceivable way, but I never considered the whole woman and what that meant. She’s a better wife than I will ever deserve.
