Page 51 of Mafia King of Lies

“I mean with Mrs. Davacalli—Beatrice. She still lives in his heart, I can tell. That is where most of his reservations come from. I don’t think he will ever let her go. Not that I want him to forget her and focus on only me. But I can’t help but to feel like I am fighting a losing battle.”

“But what if there is room for the both of you in his heart?” she says. “Look, I understand where you are coming from.But that should not stop you from trying to get to know your husband. You don’t have to be exchanging dark secrets and childhood traumas today. You can start off small—maybe over dinner?”

I muse over her suggestion. “I’m not opposed to that. Why don’t I cook him something? What does he like to eat?”

My mother always says that food is a love language everyone understands. Maybe the same is true about my husband.

“That’s an amazing idea!” Emily claps her hands. “He loves a good carbonara, and we have all the ingredients here to make it. But I think you should message him to make sure that he gets home on time for dinner.”

“Right.” I get up from the counter and make my way to the living room where I left my phone. I sit down on the couch, my heart in my stomach as I open our chat.

I’m making dinner for us tonight, what time will you be home?

It feels so odd to now call this place my home.

I wait for the message to come through. It feels like hours but really it is less than a minute before he responds.

I’ll be there by 7. Don’t poison me.

It takes me a minute to take in that he said yes. Well, he didn’t say the word, but this is a good sign. Maybe he really wants to try this out for real.

Two hoursin the kitchen and a few burns and scrapes later, dinner is ready and I am dressed and ready to meet my husband.

“You look gorgeous, Maria. I doubt he will be able to keep his hands off you.” Emily winks from the sink. “Red is your color.”

I pat down the skirt of my dress on the chair. I kept it simple, with a cute cocktail dress that shows off my figure in the most tasteful way possible, and a fairly natural face.

“Thank you.” I turn my head to the clock that hangs on the wall. “Any minute now, he will walk through those doors.”

And so I wait. The time ticks on and the minutes bleed into the hours with still no sign of my husband.

“He will be here, Maria.” Emily sets another tea down in front of me. She looks at the clock: 9:53. The man is about to be three hours late. “Drink some of this, it will calm you. I can see that you’re a little tense.”

I look at the floating tea bag in the water and thank her. I sip on the green concoction. “He said he would be here. Is he normally late?”

Emily opens and closes her mouth, unsure of what to say next. “He tends to be very punctual but I guess work kept him held up.”

“I guess so.” I sigh heavily. “Maybe this was all a mistake, and I jumped the gun.”

“No, of course not. This is you starting to have a relationship with your husband. He will be here, just give him a little more time. I need to dash home.”

“It’s all right, you can go ahead. Thank you. For helping me.” She rounds the corner and pulls me into a hug. It’s oddly comforting coming from a woman I barely know. When she pulls away, I force a smile. “Drive safe.”

She gives me another squeeze. “It was my pleasure, Maria. He will come, I’m sure of it.”

She leaves the kitchen and heads out for the night. The silence that follows after is deafening and overwhelming.

“I’m not.” I kick off my seat and head out of the kitchen. The carbonara will need to be reheated and the salad that sits in the fridge will likely go soggy if it stays out overnight.

I make my way over to the couch in sunken living room area. I grab the remote and flip through some channels until I finally land on a weird nature documentary. I look at the clock for what seems to be the hundredth time: 10:15.

I tip my head back and sip on my tea as I wait for my husband to return home, hours later than we had agreed upon. I don’t know how long I sit on the couch for, but the next time I wake up, the nature show is gone.

I hear the door open and the sleep melts away. I sit up on the couch and look back to see my husband trudging in.

When he catches my gaze, he falters for a second. This is the first time I am seeing him since we had sex. I had thought that it would be awkward but surprisingly, my body feels charged, my pussy already filling with eagerness and anticipation.

I need help.

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