When The Mafia Marriage Contract Expires

a's

r's hand

ush warmth back into his body. The heart monitor above his bed screams a single, endle

too

silences the machine. The sudd

nd trembling hands. I should go to her. I should cry. I should do something oth

replay the last hour in my head, searching

l hallway. My fingers were sha

d music pulsed in the background. Th

need a car. I need to go to t

ice was ice. Impatient. Like I'd interrupted him during a business mee

ne wen

efore he hung up, I heard a woman's laugh.

ther's lungs filled with blood, my h

the hospital at ninety miles

only thing I can feel is the cold, hard weigh

at his business associates. Three years of convincing myself that if I was j

was never his wife. I was a sign

the hospital that ni

he front door opens. He walks in, still in his tailored suit from whatever me

rotocol and inform me thr

yed. Like I'm an employ

my voice barely a rasp. "I called

esture so casual, so utterly devoid of empath

alliance on the dance floor. You cannot inte

g up. "My men will handle the funeral expenses," he says

days later under a sky t

e cemetery, their faces carved from stone. I stand beside my mother, gripping h

ence casting a shadow even in this gloom. He

to the service, h

ame. A photo of her-the one she uses for her co

ck from my fa

o, not to me. "Secure the perim

ears into the black SUV. The taillights bleed

her father's funeral to ans

headstones. And all I can hear, clear as a bell, is a voice

er the funeral. I have Rocco

ballroom doors. Nobody notices me at first-I'm still in my funeral blac

en I s

ring a backless red gown that clings to every curve, her dark hair cascading over her shoul

ick between the dancing couple and me-the little wife in

at the

st a debt

e real queen of

oke. But they don't hurt anymore. The par

er laugh at something he whispers in her ear. I watch my husb

feel n

omething cold and clean and terrifyingly calm. It

. About the naive hope I held onto for three years. About the birthday dinners

room, holding her father's cold hand, wh

n't scream. I simply turn around, walk out of the

hat I ha