He Forgot His Wife Until She Was Gone

I came home late from balancing the Family's clean books, and the broken lock on our door still hadn't been fixed.

I called Lorenzo Falcone's name through the door for ages before he finally came out, annoyed.

Don't you have a key? Why don't you just open it yourself?

I froze. The door won't open. I told you this morning to send one of the men to fix it.

He blinked, then said, flat and indifferent, "Forgot. I'll definitely have someone see to it tomorrow."

Of course. That same couldn't-care-less attitude.

The laundry sitting in the machine, he'd forgotten to hang. When I asked, he said, "I never said I wouldn't. I'll go do it in a minute."

The kitchen scraps had gone rancid overnight, and I reminded him to take them down when he went out. He forgot again anyway. "I'll just make another trip later. No rush."

Every single time, he brushed it off like it was nothing.

I changed out of my shoes and stepped inside. "You couldn't hear me knocking all that time?"

He kept scrolling through his phone, not lifting his head. "Sera and I were on a video call."

"She was in the middle of a shower and her water heater broke, so I was walking her through the repair."

I glanced down. He was still looking up a water heater maintenance tutorial.

So while I was locked outside on the wrong side of a door the Family should have fixed a week ago, he'd been on video with the ward this house had raised, dripping wet and wrapped in a bath towel.

All these years bound to him, one call from Serafina Conti, water out, gas out, power out, and the Underboss of the Falcone Family would drop everything and rush to her at once.

Seeing me not move, he set the phone down and pressed a hand to my shoulder to smooth things over. "All right, all right, I'll send a man to fix the lock right now, okay?"

Fixed or not, it didn't matter anymore, because the door I'd kept open for him in my heart, I was about to lock.

I went into the bathroom to shower and found this morning's laundry still sitting in the machine.

I'd had a sit-down over the accounts early that morning and left before dawn, and I'd made a point of telling Lorenzo to hang the clothes before he went out.

I turned to leave the bathroom, meaning to ask him about it, when his phone rang first.

A video request popped up, and Lorenzo hit answer on reflex.

On the screen, Serafina was wrapped in a towel, wet hair still dripping. "Enzo, my keypad lock's dead, I can't get in, it's so dark out here, I'm scared someone bad's around..." Her voice dropped half a register into something soft and small, and her free hand reached for the edge of the screen as if for a sleeve to hold.

Murmuring soothing words, he was already grabbing his keys from the entryway, cracking the knuckles of his right hand one by one as he went, heading out with his jacket only half on.

"I'll come charge it for you right now. Send me the lock model."

The door clicked shut behind him. Clean and quick.

He hadn't even taken a second to tell me.

Towel in hand, I stood in the bathroom doorway and slowly looked around this home I'd put so much care into, the quiet of it pressing in like the hush that falls over a room when the Don walks in.

Suddenly it all felt absurd.

All this time, I'd just been too foolish, too earnest.

My phone buzzed. A message from the Capo I answered to in the front operations.

"Adriana, the placement with the allied family in the distant territory has to be confirmed in the next couple of days. You're sure you want to give it up? A sanctioned exit like this comes once in a lifetime. Think it over again."

I stared at that line for a long time.

Before, I'd never wanted to live apart from Lorenzo.

Now, thinking about it, he probably wouldn't care either way.

I wrote back, "Okay. I'll go."

Once I'd sent it, I turned and walked into the bathroom.

I hung the laundry first, then showered, dried my hair, turned off the light, and got into bed.

Lorenzo didn't come back until the middle of the night.

He pushed the door open, climbed into bed, and leaned in close, murmuring, "Did I wake you?"

I didn't move.

He tried again. "Did you hang the laundry? I told you I'd do it. You always rush."

Once, I would have rolled over and sat up and demanded why, when I'd reminded him again and again, he still forgot.

The clothes had sat shut in the machine all day, nearly rotting!

But I'd said all of that plenty of times. I didn't want to say it anymore. My thumb pressed hard against the thin gold band on my ring finger, and I said nothing.

When I didn't answer, he went on by himself. "Sera didn't know how to charge the electronic lock. If the keypad died and someone got in, a girl living on her own like that, of course I had to go over."

I opened my eyes. "Does she not have hands? Can't read a manual? Can't call the man whose job it is?"

The moment it was out, Lorenzo paused. "Do you really have to be this nasty?"

"Sera lost her parents when she was little. This Family took her in on a debt of honor. Is it so strange that I look out for her a bit more? What's with the snide tone?"

I rolled over, turning my back to him.

Behind me it went quiet for a few seconds, then came the sound of him getting up and going into the bathroom.

He showered and came back to bed.

He pressed against me, his arm winding around my waist. "All right, all right, don't be mad, I'll be more careful from now on, okay? Hm?"

He coaxed me, his temper softening a little, his lips moving toward my ear, and in the warm breath there was that perfume Serafina always wore.

A wave of nausea rose in my stomach.

I pulled his arm off me and rushed into the bathroom, retching over the sink.

Lorenzo didn't follow. I heard him grumble from the bed, "Adriana Marchetti, don't take this too far!"

I braced myself against the sink and stood, rinsed my mouth, and came back to the bed.

Lorenzo had already rolled over, his breathing even, asleep.

I stood at the foot of the bed and looked at him for a while, then picked up my phone and messaged the Capo one more time.

"I'm sure about the placement. Please start the process for me."

The private box at the Falcone social club had been reserved that weekend for a performance Lorenzo had secured seats to.

I finished with the ledgers at the front office and waited outside the building for forty minutes, and still he never came to bring me.

When I finally called, he seemed to remember only then. "Adriana, sorry, something came up on my end. Go on ahead, I'll be a little late."

So I had one of the Family's drivers take me there alone.

By the time the third act was underway, Lorenzo finally slipped in through the side of the box, quiet as a man who did this for a living.

I was about to reach for his hand when I caught, at the edge of my vision, someone trailing behind him.

Serafina was wearing a dress in the same color family as mine, and she smiled sweetly at me. "Hey, I love this act too. I mentioned it to Lorenzo once, and I didn't think he'd actually get me a seat. And it turned out to be right beside you both. What a coincidence."

Lorenzo wiped her chair clean with his handkerchief as if it were the most natural thing in the world, then reached over and lifted the bag from her shoulder and set it down by her feet. "You can sit now. Cleaned it for you."

Only after that did he turn to look at me. "Serafina's zipper broke right as she was heading out. I tried for ages and couldn't get it, so we got held up a bit."

I turned my head and looked at Serafina's waist.

Her dress was cut open at the waist, and against her fair skin the fingerprints stood out clearly.

For those three hours, Lorenzo held up his phone recording the solos of the performer Serafina favored.

Every so often she leaned in to watch the playback, her head nearly resting on his shoulder.

When it ended she said she was thirsty, so Lorenzo edged past half a row of the Family's men to fetch her water.

I sat there beside them, the program crushed damp in my fist.

Not until the final bow and the house lights rose did I realize I hadn't taken in a single note.

When we walked out of the club, the sky suddenly opened into a downpour.

The doors were choked with people sheltering from the rain and waiting on their cars.

Lorenzo ran for the cover of the eaves, shielding the top of Serafina's head, and turned back to call at me: "Adriana, Serafina's been weak since she was a girl and can't be out in the cold wind. I'll see her home first. Get yourself a car."

I stood on the steps and watched him circle an arm around her shoulders, tucking her completely under him.

Under my breath I pressed my thumb hard against the thin gold band on my finger and said nothing.

With that whole crowd letting out into the street, it took me near thirty minutes to get a car.

By the time I got home, my hem and my hair were still dripping.

I'd caught a chill after all, and by the middle of the night a fever set in.

I dragged myself up and swallowed what fever medicine we kept in the house. The heat dropped, then climbed again, over and over, until I couldn't hold out and went to the Family's physician the next day anyway.

After the tests, the doctor looked up from the report and glanced at me. "Congratulations. You're carrying."

"The fever's serious, so you can't just take any medicine now."

My heart lurched. Carrying?

When I got home, Lorenzo was leaning against the entryway, working a foot into his shoe.

He saw me push the door open, and his brow furrowed. "Where did you go? We agreed we'd sit down at my mother's table tonight. You didn't even pick up your phone. I've been waiting forever."

I changed into my slippers and said nothing.

He pressed again. "I'll bring the car around. Hurry up."

Then he grabbed the keys and left.

I stood in the entryway for a few seconds, put on a jacket, and went out after him anyway.

The moment I pulled open the car door, a cloying, sugary snack smell hit me in the face.

Half a bag of crushed potato chips lay scattered across the passenger seat, along with a few torn candy wrappers, and wedged into the crease of the leather was a sour candy pit that had fallen in at some point.

This was the third time this week.

I'd reminded him plenty of times that the passenger seat wasn't Serafina's snack tray, and that she needed to clear away whatever she finished.

I stood outside the door and didn't move. "How many times have I told you? Take the trash out of the car and throw it away when you get out."

Lorenzo was starting the engine. He glanced over and swept the crumbs down under the seat with one hand, careless about it. "Fine, fine, I'll deal with it right now, okay? Just get in. Don't keep my mother waiting."

I looked at him, then bent down and got into the back seat.

When we reached the Falcone house, the heavy front door stood half open, and Serafina's laughter tangled with Donna Frost's, drifting out into the hall past the man posted near the entrance who dipped his head to me as I passed.

She saw me come in and smiled sweetly. "You're here! Donna Frost asked me to come help. She said we'd have a full table tonight."

Donna Frost sat at the head of the table and waved me over. "Now that you're here, go set out the bowls and chopsticks. Serafina's been busy all afternoon. Let her rest."

"Oh, and there are a few glasses in the kitchen sink that still need washing. Wash those first, then come eat."

I stepped past them into the kitchen.

The bowls and plates were stacked in the sink. I washed them one by one, dried them, set them away, then took the good porcelain from the cupboard and carried it to the table. By the time all the dishes were out and the bowls and chopsticks were laid, and I came through carrying the last soup bowl, the table was already full.

Serafina sat at Donna Frost's right hand, and the matriarch was spooning barbecue ribs onto her plate with her own hands. "You're too thin, tesoro. You really should eat more."

Lorenzo sat on Serafina's other side and, without a thought, moved the plate of salt-and-pepper shrimp she couldn't reach right in front of her.

Then he casually picked the ginger slivers out of her bowl and set them on his own plate.

The three of them talked and laughed, Donna Frost patting the back of Serafina's hand as she told stories about the girl's childhood, about the debt of honor that had brought her under this roof.

Lorenzo listened with his head bowed, a doting smile at the corner of his mouth.

My place had been at the corner of the table the whole time, the chair pulled a little away from the edge.

The bowl and chopsticks were set out at the very edge, like a seat added in at the last minute. No hand had reached across to fill my plate. In this house, who the Donna served with her own hands was a ranking read aloud without a single word, and mine had stayed untouched.

I reached up, untied the apron, folded it, and left it on the kitchen counter, then turned and went out the door.

They probably wouldn't even notice that I'd suddenly left.

I had one of the Family's men drive me to the physician's.

After they let me in, I went into the exam room. "Doctor, I need you to schedule me for the procedure. I want to end the pregnancy."

When I woke again, the Family's physician was pressing a hand to my shoulder, telling me it was finished, that I could go once he'd watched me another half hour.

A dull, swollen ache kept rising in my lower belly, still throbbing faintly.

I lay there for a while, then slowly sat up and dressed. I collected the medicine for the inflammation and the drug to stop the bleeding from the doctor's cabinet, and rode home alone in a black car that asked me no questions.

Once inside, I went straight to the bedroom to sleep.

By the time full dark had settled over the estate, the bedroom door was pushed open.

Lorenzo stood in the doorway, still in his polished shoes, his coat folded over one arm. He glanced at me, and the impatience he'd carried the whole drive home was already in his voice. "Adriana, what is the matter with you? You walked out without even touching the supper?"

"I called you all those times and you never picked up once, then you come home to sleep the day away by yourself?"

"Do you know how angry my mother is? Go and apologize to the Donna tomorrow. Don't be so childish."

I stayed curled under the blanket, not moving.

My belly hurt, and I hadn't the strength left to argue with a made man.

He stood a moment, and when no answer came, his footsteps drew closer. The mattress dipped hard under his weight. "Adriana! Don't lie there pretending to be asleep!"

Then he grabbed my arm and hauled me up out of the blanket. "What is it you're throwing a fit over? I'm speaking to you. Do you hear me?"

The pull wrenched my body, and in that instant it felt like something tore open low in my belly, a sharp pain shooting up from below.

My hand went to my stomach on instinct, cold sweat breaking out all over me.

My voice came out thin. "Lorenzo, why aren't you off keeping your ward company? What are you doing here, losing your temper at me?"

The jab stung him, but his grip didn't loosen. He leaned in closer. "Adriana, I only want to ask you what you actually mean by all this. You've worn that face since the night at the club, and today you walked out of my mother's house without a word. What do you take me for?"

"I've told you countless times, Serafina and I are not the thing you keep imagining."

"And if we truly were, I've known her since we were children. Do you think it would ever have come round to your turn?"

A wave of cold revulsion went through me, my heart sinking almost to despair.

It was like a knife turning in my belly, the pain draining the strength out of me.

I struggled to pull my arm free of his hand, and in that very moment a warm rush came from below, running down the inside of my thigh, unstoppable.

My night clothes and the sheet were soaked through in seconds, and the pain low in my belly was so bad it nearly choked off my breath.

I think I was hemorrhaging.

"Lorenzo..." My voice was frantic. "Send for the doctor, send the men"

But right then his phone rang.

That one ringtone, the one he kept only for her, pulled his attention away in an instant.

His voice went gentle at once. "Serafina, what's wrong? Don't cry... take your time..."

Her thin sobbing came down the line.

"All right, all right, don't hang up, I'll be there."

Phone in hand, he turned and went out of the bedroom, cracking the knuckles of his right hand one by one as he walked, quick and urgent, the way a man moves toward something that must be handled.

I collapsed back onto the bed and heard the heavy security door in the front room slam shut.

The blood kept coming, soaking warm through layer after layer of cloth. I reached for the phone on the nightstand, my fingers sticky, and with shaking hands called down to the doctor and the men who move a wife quietly when her blood is spilled inside the house.

When I woke again I was in the Family's infirmary, and the ache in my belly was gone.

When the physician came to change the dressing, he told me the bleeding had been heavy, that I'd come near to needing another's blood in my veins. "A good thing you were brought here when you were."

I lay in that quiet room a full day.

It wasn't until the next that Lorenzo finally called.

"Did you work late on the books last night?"

"I finished early today and came home and cooked. I steamed the fish you like, and I sent a man round to see to the door. What hour will you be back?"

"Don't worry, I hung the laundry too. I said I'd remember."

"When are you coming home? I'll wait to eat with you."

I answered softly. "I'm not coming back."

He laughed. "Still angry?"

"Don't be. Serafina's lamp went dark last night, and she was frightened on her own, so I only went to change the bulb. That's all."

"It's such a small thing. Must you really keep holding it against me?"

If it had truly been life or death for her that night, perhaps I could have understood a little.

But when it came down to it, it was nothing more than a burned-out lamp.

So it turned out one lamp mattered more than my life.

I said nothing more to him and hung up.

Then, once the doctor released me, I went straight to the airfield, to the placement waiting for me in the far territory of an allied family.

From now on I wouldn't be the one reminding him to hang the laundry, to see to the door, to carry out the trash.

None of it had anything to do with me anymore.