Page 5 of Mafia’s Fake Bride

With that settled in her mind, she pushed the rest of her worries away. One final thing nagged at her though. He’d said they needed to talk about her mother or something like that. She couldn’t remember the exact way he’d put it now. Then he’d told her he was leaving for a few days and that had been the memory that stuck, the fact that he’d walked away. Did a man do that when he knew his woman needed him? She wouldn’t know, she had no experience with relationships that went that far.

Too much worry and too much time had passed since that brief conversation for her to remember it exactly. She was at the door and paused to look back at the quiet house. It had never been this quiet, not for a long time, anyway. The only noise was the hum of the refrigerator and that was it. The sound of her mother’s oxygen machine was gone, the sound of her air conditioner and the television.

It was almost disturbing, that lack of sound. She’d become accustomed to it and having someone in the house. Now, it was empty, and she was the only one that inhabited the rooms. Maybe the place did need a family, a couple with kids to replace the anger, sadness, and pain that had soaked into the walls, with joy and laughter instead. A melancholy smile passed over her face as she locked the door and walked out to her old car.

The drive over to Matteo’s was done in silence. She was too nervous to play anything, afraid to put her mind into a state that would only be devastated if he told her he was finished with her. She’d become used to playing happy, romantic songs on her way to see him, but now she left the music off. It wouldn’t do to build her expectations only to find them crushed when she arrived.

He had wanted her there for dinner, she reminded herself as she braked for a stop sign. Her fingers tapped on the steering wheel, the darkness now almost complete. She switched her headlights on, pulled out after a red sports car passed her by, and drove on.

Dinner might just be pretense or the prelude to her dismissal. Maybe he’d wanted to end it, but was being kind, giving her time to get over her mother’s death. Or maybe she was just being stupid and needed to relax, she thought with a deep breath meant to calm her down. She took another and then another as she turned down the road that would lead her to his house.

Maybe he’d just been busy, as she’d thought earlier. Matteo wasn’t the most expressive man in the world, sometimes he looked downright cold, but never when he looked at her. Thoughtful and contemplative perhaps, aroused certainly, happy even a time or two, but never cold. That was for everyone else.

Over the last few weeks, she’d felt that they’d created a world of their own, one where only they existed, and nobody else could break into unless they allowed them to. That hint of the danger he exuded would keep anyone unwanted out of their world, she knew that much.

But what if he turned that around on her? No, she reminded herself, he had been so kind to her throughout the end of her mother’s illness, and then at the hospital. He’d been there for her, held her when she needed him when her mother’s time came and the woman that had given her life slipped away.

Marie tapped her fingers against the steering wheel and pressed a little harder against the gas pedal. This was not going to be over if she didn’t actually arrive there. Cautious as always, Marie didn’t like to speed, but a few miles over the speed limit wouldn’t hurt, would it?

The glimmer of golden eyes in the wide, water-filled ditch at the edge of the road told her there were wild animals in the darkness, but the road was clear, and she pulled into his driveway without a problem. She paused as she pulled past the gates, took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down, again, before she ran her fingers through her hair.

It was time to face the music, whatever that music was to be. She didn’t think, deep down, that Matteo was about to end things with her, but life had never been overly fair to her. It would be just like fate to give her a glimpse of what she could have, of a life she could have never dreamed of having, only to snatch it away. To Marie, fate was like Puck in Shakespeare’s play. Always out to fuck people over if it could.

She had a lifetime of experience to prove that. Only, this once in her life, she held onto a breath of hope. She wanted to be optimistic, to feel confident that all was well between her and the man she was all but certain she’d fallen in love with. If only she didn’t also feel a need to place her hands behind her back and cross her fingers to ward off bad luck. All she wanted was to lose herself in him, to let go of her grief and worries. If fate would be so kind as to allow her one more moment of that, she’d be really grateful.

3

The crushing weight of anxiety lifted as soon as Matteo opened the door with a smile that she had a feeling was reserved only for her. Normally his grim-faced man employee answered the door, and that guy made Marie nervous. She stuck her hand out tentatively for Matteo to take it, and he pulled her inside with a laugh.

“What’s wrong, Marie?” He kissed her cheek softly, an odd look in his eye. It was gone before she could define it, so she just smiled and leaned into his kiss.

“Nothing, I just thought it might be that guy that normally answers the door.” She closed the door and then followed him through the house to the dining room. She eyed him up as they walked through the house and wasn’t surprised to find that in the black lounge pants and long black t-shirt, Matteo was just as sexy as he was in a suit. “What are we having?”

“Gumbo, potato salad, and French bread from what the cook told me.” He sat down with a smile that was more of a smirk than anything. “She’s so bossy.”

“Cajun women can be,” Marie said with a husky laugh, though she wasn’t sure she’d deem it bossy. More like confident and self-assured in their decisions. “It sounds wonderful.”

Matteo guided her to a chair before he took one beside her. He’d asked her how she was doing when the cook came in with a trolley. The table was set with white bowls, saucers, and tableware already so all she had to do was set the food down on the table before she went back out again with a wish that they enjoyed their food.

Marie turned to Matteo with a smile as he ladled gumbo into a bowl. “I’m doing alright. It’s weird, being at home alone, but it’s not as bad as I thought. I was afraid I’d turn into this blubbering mess that couldn’t handle being on her own, but it’s not been too bad. After that first night, anyway.”

Marie looked away as she didn’t want him to see the hurt in her eyes. She’d wanted to ask him to stay with her, to come to her so many times, but he’d told her he’d contact her in a few days. She’d had to assume he’d be busy if he said something like that. Normally, she’d have expected him to ask her to come to stay with him, but maybe she’d made too many assumptions lately.

“Good, I’ve wanted to come and see you, but, well, things are getting a bit complicated for me down here, and I’ve spent a lot of hours at the uh-” Matteo looked away, his eyes squinted before he turned back, his face clear, “at the office, basically.”

She wasn’t stupid. She’d started to catch on that he didn’t exactly have an office a while ago. He had to be at a lot of places, though, and take care of a lot of things that he never explained. She didn’t ask, because at first, she didn’t feel like it was any of her business. Now, well, she was almost afraid to ask. She feared his answer, not his reaction.

“I understand,” she assured him and turned her attention to her food. It was spiced perfectly, and everything had blended together nicely in the gumbo. The rest of the food was heavenly too, but almost anything would be after a week of eating cans of ravioli she’d found in the cabinet and sandwiches.

She hadn’t seen much point in cooking over the last week, she just didn’t have the heart to go to the effort. A bowl of microwaved heat-attack-in-a-can here and a sandwich there wouldn’t hurt her, anyway. She hoped.

Dinner was quiet after that and she enjoyed the comfort of not being alone, even if the other person wasn’t speaking. She’d been quiet all week, she’d wanted to talk to him, to hear his voice, but he was eating so it would be rude to speak.

“Do you want anything for dessert? I think we have a chocolate cake?” He wiped his mouth and put the napkin down in his now-empty bowl. His eyes smiled at her and her heart skipped when she saw contentment in his eyes.

“No, but a walk outside would be nice.” She felt a little closed off inside the house, far too insulated, and wanted the wildness of the outdoors, even if it was only a small dose. The mosquitos were still out and about, so they wouldn’t be out for long.

He took her hand and they went out to the back to walk for a little while. They reached the pool, and Marie decided to stop there to watch the lights dance in the water.