AMORE MIO (on hold)

xxvii.

Lusina looks down at me in a sympathetic way, and I know how bad this is for her. How hard it must be to show me this when her job is on the line. She has three daughters that she sends money to in Italy, and she can't risk her job.

I take a shaky breath, looking up at her, begging for some more information. She's worked here years. Is this Nicolas all the time? I knew about Carmella, but I didn't realize that he was going out, partying and spending time with women like this.

You don't know him. You don't know him at all.

"Is this normal?" I ask gently, my voice wavering even though I'm trying to keep my shit together. I can't cry and break down over him again. Not over this especially. "He didn't come home...last night.."

I state the obvious, just to see her reaction. She would know, right? At least, she would know better than me.

"Mr. Marchetti does not bring guests home...except for..." she pauses, searching my face to see if I really need her to finish that sentence.

I don't.

He hasn't brought anyone home apart from Carmella. That much is obvious from her words. But does that mean he's hooking up with these women too? Just not here?

I feel so sick suddenly. I push her phone away, shaking my head, trying to get the image out of my head. I've done things with that man. I almost gave him everything, and that's what he does?

He didn't even try to hide it.

Suddenly the front door slams shut, and Lusina grabs her phone with wide eyes, rushing out of the kitchen before anyone can see she was here.

Not even a moment later, Nicolas walks into the kitchen. His hair is messier than usual, his clothes wrinkled, and he looks slightly hungover. I wouldn't have really been able to tell if it weren't for the fact that I've seen what plenty of monsters look like when they don't return home to their wives for one reason, and one reason only.

Nicolas looks at me blankly before going straight to the coffee pot, pouring himself a mug full of the coffee that I had made. I watch him, feeling the mix of emotions brewing in my chest.

He's not even going to acknowledge me?

Yesterday, he woke me up with some kisses and a cuddle, and today he won't even look at me?

"What?" he snaps, pulling me out of my trance. I blink a few times, watching as he turns to look at me from the other side of the island.

"Where were you last night? I tried calling you," I say softly, trying to remain calm. Lashing out won't do anything, and maybe, just maybe, all of that is wrong.

Nicolas raises his eyebrow at me, as if he's surprised I asked him such an absurd question. I frown, shaking my head and going to repeat myself.

"I don't think you should be asking such questions. It's not really your place," he remarks, sipping on his coffee as he unrolls the newspaper on the counter. I gape at him, realizing how he's suddenly undermining me and my worry.

"What?" I whisper softly, unsure of what to even say to that. But I need to know. I don't understand what's happening, but I have to ask him what those pictures meant. "Were you with someone? I saw those pictures."

His head snaps up from the paper, his eyes painfully dark as they bore into my own. I swallow, realizing maybe those weren't the right words to say. It seems as if the not so nice Nicolas is here today, and he doesn't look happy with my question.

"Who the fuck do you think you are to ask questions like that, Giulia?" Nicolas' voice booms, dropping his newspaper onto the countertop as he sidesteps around it and makes his way over to my seat. "Hasn't your mother ever told you what it's like to be married in the mob? You turn a blind eye. You don't care who I fuck. You don't ask questions. You just sit there, act pretty, and be glad I don't knock someone else up."