Page 88 of Knocked Up by My Dad's Mafia Boss

I stop drinking. Mostly. Just a couple at night to try and sleep. I don’t manage much, but it’s enough to function.

I stay in my room all weekend, unable to fathom seeing Samantha again.

Her words ring in my ears.To hate you I’d have to care.

Harsh. Cruel. Completely unlike her. I’ve done this to her. Brought out the worst in her.

I mostly read, lose myself in Westerns and crime novels. I don’t watch our show anymore. It’s too painful.

Elio gives me the time. Nothing’s coming up until after the party, anyway.

He’s inviting everyone, all of our allies and their men, their wives and children.

It’s going to be a full house. So I have to get it together. Lock in, as Samantha says.

Elio’s home recuperating, but he’s starting to get stir-crazy, and his wound is almost healed. Soon enough, I’ll have to take my responsibilities back up.

Ricardo’s already been doing most of the work when Samantha needs to go out.

I feel almost bad about it. I’ve never really liked the guy, he’s always seemed arrogant and weaselly, but maybe that’s just because of how he looks. Tall, lanky, balding, thin-faced. Lately, he’s been acting a lot less like he’s got a chip on his shoulder. He looks exhausted, thinner than usual. His mother’s illness must be taking its toll.

On Monday I’m downstairs after grabbing an early dinner, when Samantha walks in the door. “H-hey,” I stutter, like a dumbass, meeting her brown eyes.

She looks at me blankly. “Hey.”

“Where’d you go?”None of your business.

“Shopping.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t buy anything?”

She shakes her head. “Nah. Didn’t find anything I liked. I just did it for love of the game.” She offers me a small smile and I can’t help but return it. Then Samantha suddenly goes pale, sniffing the air. “What’s that smell?”

“Oh, Maria made Philly cheesesteak sandwiches. Do you want one?”

“Onions,” she says in a broken voice, and I raise my eyebrow higher.

“Onions?”

She bolts for the downstairs bathroom, clapping a hand over her mouth. She slams the door behind her.

I walk up to it and hear her retching. I wait a beat. Tell myself I should go upstairs. Leave it alone. “You still sick?”

The toilet flushes once. Twice. After the sound of running water, she opens the door. “Just a little…sensitive to smells still.”

I frown. “You should see Doc.”

She waves a hand. “I’m fine. It was just a bug.”

Alarm rises in the back of my head. Cancer isn’t genetic, isn’t it? “Are you sure?”

She nods quickly, her eyes starting to flash. “Why do you care, anyway?”

I glance into the dining room. Elio’s nowhere to be found, must have gone out the back. He’d gotten a phone call during dinner that he’d ignored, so he’s probably answering it.

“You know why,” I say in a low voice.

Samantha slips past me. I should leave it. Let her go.