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The messy sheets, the smell of sex, the memories of our bodies, and how we fit together all come crashing down on me, and I cover my mouth so that the sob doesn’t escape. I don’t want him to hear my heartbreak. I need a few minutes and take them to collect myself lest I make a fool of myself out there when I ask him why he is the way he is and why he won’t let me into his heart.
I release the sheet and put on the dress and silver platforms. Somehow, they remind me of glass slippers. I’ve always loved that fairy tale more than all the others. It’s a story of hope, and the prince chasing after the heroine makes it beautiful to me.
At the door, I pause. I don’t want to leave. The room or the house or Corrado, I don’t know which. Maybe all of the above, but I asked him to let me go. I asked him to dissolve the marriage, and if I want any semblance of a normal life, I must leave him.
If he wants a future me to have normalcy and “the mundane,” as he’d called it, he will let me go.
But do we want each other no matter what the other person brings to the table? Is ours an unconditional love? Ours is conditional. A marriage agreement in exchange for money. A tit for tat. Corrado negotiates. He negotiates with everything besides the one thing I want from him: his love.
Meanwhile, I negotiate with my heart, the one thing he prefers I keep to myself.
The shutters’ rising noise jolts me, and the light from the bathroom window casts a glow over the bedroom door as if guiding me forward and into the light. Before I walk out, I pull back my shoulders, which helps me feel as if I’m collected and can handle anything Corrado throws at me this morning.
Here goes nothing.
I step outside and move through the kitchen to find Corrado sitting on the couch in the living room. He’s dressed in the black suit and white shirt, and he looks as great as he does every day. Perhaps even better now that I’ve slept with him.
A mug of coffee on the table in front of a chair across from him tells me that’s my seat.
“Is Drago here?” I ask before I grab the coffee and sit. I sip the coffee, even though I don’t need it as much as I needed it to wake up before I met this man. Corrado has a way of waking up my morning brain from its stupor. One never needs coffee if one wakes up with him. I’ll miss that.
“I’ll miss many things about you,” I say, swallowing down my brew, hoping I don’t start crying and choke on the coffee and tears.
Corrado turns on the TV.
It shows a forested area surrounded by hundreds of police officers and dozens of their cars. The barking of the K9s competes with the loud sirens. They’re in front of what looks like the demolished end of a building complex.
Corrado turns up the volume.
“A total of four inmates escaped during the accidental gas leak and subsequent explosion of the east prison building. No casualties are reported, but the investigation is ongoing as to how it happened…”
“Which prison?” I ask, knowing Corrado is showing me this for a reason. When he simply stares at me in that way of his, I continue, “My…my brother isn’t one of those four men, is he?”
Corrado nods. “Your brother is free.”
Gordon is on the run. He’s free and on the run. Wait a minute. “Did you break him out?”
“I was never there. I’ve been with you the whole time. But I hear powerful people need him for cleanup of this one incident with the cartel and Cosa Nostra. I hear they’ll clean his record, make him disappear. I hear the feds will get something bigger in return.”
Corrado pulled strings with all the powers he knows and opened a hole in the wall, quite literally, for my brother to escape through.
“If he thinks you took me, he’ll come for you.”
“He’ll come for me only if I still have his sister. Do I?” Corrado swallows, looks away, puts his hands on his hips. He’s uncomfortable and vulnerable with me again in his twisted, twisted way. “Do I have his sister? Are you mine, hm?” He pulls out his pistol and slams it onto the table. “Because I can’t let you go. He’ll have to kill me if he wants me to let you go.”
He throws up his hands and leans back on the couch. “There you have it.” He points at the golden gun. “When he comes, here’s my piece. There it is. On the table.”
I open my mouth to say something, but the words stick in my throat. My brother is free. Corrado can’t part from me. I don’t know… I’m shocked.
Corrado gets up and walks away to stand at the window overlooking the backyard. Hands in his pockets, he says, “When my mother left me, I was only nine. I swore I would never chase after anyone because those who leave in such a way should be let go. Yet, today, when I ordered a car to come fetch you, all I could think about was how I’d sprint after it and how I wouldn’t catch up, not because I wasn’t fast enough, but because my people stay with me. My dad stayed and passed away naturally later in life. My sister stayed.” He points outside.
I hear a noise that reminds me of motorcycles, but instead, it’s a descending helicopter.
“There’s Severio.” Corrado makes a turn with his finger, indicating his brother is in the helicopter that’s landing beyond the tree line. “He’s a lifelong pain in my ass, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. And I don’t want that for you either. You shouldn’t be missing the people you love. Besides, Drago’s on a mission to end the man who once tried to hurt you. I told him to finish what Gordon started.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Corrado turns toward me. “Say you’re my wife.”
