Page 43 of Mafia’s Fake Bride

He bought a new bottle of gin and a couple of limes before he drove home. He’d get her drunk and let her slur it all out. It worked for men, right? It might not be the best idea he’d ever had, but it might let her blow off some steam, at least.

“Baby, I’m home.” He smelled her version of fajitas drifting in from the kitchen. Tequila might have been a better choice, but she seemed to have developed a taste for gin that he’d appease.

“I’m in here, Matteo.” She wore a bright smile when he came in and he could see she was a little better today. She didn’t look as haunted as she had the night before.

He leaned down to kiss her hello and lingered for a moment. “I have a plan for tonight, my luscious little honey. We’re going to listen to music and get completely smashed together. I’ve never seen you drunk, and for some reason, I’d really like to see that.”

“Think I’ll be amusing, do you?” She grinned and twisted like a happy puppy in his arms before she pulled away. “Okay, but let’s eat first.”

He didn’t want to mention anything that might put her off the idea, so he didn’t tell her she might not want to barf up fajitas later. He wouldn’t let her get that far, he decided. Just enough to get her talking, and maybe giggle.

They washed up the dinner dishes together after they ate, then he made them both a drink. “Let’s go into the living room. Let me take you on a journey.”

They both laughed at that as she did as he instructed. She settled down on the couch and grinned when he handed her a drink with a green umbrella in it. “Oh, now that’s professional.”

“I give only the best to my woman.” He raised a finger and pointed in the air before he moved to the sound system. “Now, let’s see.”

“What are you going to play for me, dear husband of mine?” She grinned and he could see it was genuine when he glanced back at her.

“Something you may not have heard. Come here, dance with me. I’ll teach you if you don’t know how, don’t worry. Come here.” He beckoned to her as the song began to fill the air.

“It’s Stand By Me. But I don’t know who’s singing it. Is that John Lennon?” She swayed with him and moved her body to the short but lovely song. “That was beautiful, play it again.”

He obliged and hit the back button on the remote control. He began to sing along as the song played and Marie stood away from him. He could see she was stunned and gave a rueful smile. “What?”

“Replay. Now. And sing that for me all over again.” She sat down on the couch, her drink now in her hands.

He didn’t want to, but she insisted. He did it, and though he felt self-conscious at first, he got into the song as it carried on.

“Matteo, your voice is beautiful! Why don’t you sing?” Her eyes were wide and her smile showed just how impressed she was. The raspy sound of her voice told him how amazed she was. He felt his cheeks go warm, and he looked down at his feet.

“I used to, back when I was in school. My aunt had other plans for me, though. I don’t do much of it anymore.” He thought about the guitar hidden away in the closet and had an idea. “Just a minute.”

He retrieved the guitar and brought it out into the living room. “Fill our glasses back up and sit down.”

He arranged a chair in front of her, played a few chords to remind his fingers how to move on the frets, and then he began to sing to her. No singing over another voice this time, it was just him and the guitar. He sang a few songs he’d written himself and when she clapped her hands, her eyes wide with glee, he felt a new pride start to warm its way through his chest.

He refilled their glasses while she gushed over his performance.

“I hate it that I’ll be the only person to ever hear those songs, Matteo. You have to record those somewhere. You really do.”

“Nah, I don’t have time for all that.” He waved her praise away and came back to sit down with her. He hit play on the sound system and let a new song play. “I have you, work, and you. That’s all I need.”

“Then do it for me. I’d love to be able to play that when I need to smile.” She leaned into him and he put his hand down on her thigh, just as a way to touch, not as a prelude to something else. Sometimes it was nice to just sit and talk to her.

“Would it make you smile when you’re sad, Marie? Really?” He looked over at her, serious for a moment.

“It would. That song was beautiful, Matteo. Lonely, but full of hope.” She turned her face away. “I think we both know about being lonely, don’t we?”

“I think so. You haven’t told me a lot about your life, but I can guess.” Matteo sipped carefully at his own drink. He wanted her to be the one that was smashed, he wanted to be there for her while she was.

“No, you can’t.” Her head rolled away as if her neck bones were made of liquid. She was getting there, then. She was on her fourth glass, though.

She began to talk then, to spill so many secrets that she’d never told him before. By the time she was done, he wanted to go back to Louisiana, resurrect her mother, and throttle her. Marie had fallen asleep on his lap, tears staining her cheeks, but at last, she’d got it out. He picked her up, carried her in his arms, and took her to bed. She’d mentioned a counselor at some point there, said something about a doctor appointment yesterday. Maybe it would be a good idea. From what she’d just told him, she needed to talk to someone with professional skills he didn’t have. He’d be right there for her, though, every step of the way.

24

Matteo kissed Marie goodbye and she went into the bathroom to get ready for her appointment. She’d set up a spa day with Trina, an attempt to relax, as suggested by the psychiatrist she’d seen a week after her doctor appointment.