Their words kept cutting, sharper each time, until it felt like the walls themselves were pressing in. The dining room of the Castellano estate, with its oil paintings of dead patriarchs and its heavy curtains that smelled of old money and older secrets, had never felt smaller.
And Marcello? He never came back.
Marcello finally showed up that evening, calm as ever, like nothing happened. We got into the car, the leather still warm from the sun.
I glanced out the window and asked lightly, "You done with work?"
He hesitated, just for a breath, then said softly, "Yeah." His fingers tapped against the wheel, steady, rhythmic. That was his little tell when he was in a good mood.
The silence stretched, and then he asked, "Did my parents give you trouble after I left?"
I was about to answer when my eyes caught something under the seat. A pair of torn silk stockings. Not mine.
So that's where he'd been. I knew about Serafina, but I hadn't expected he'd use this very car.
Seven years of marriage and I'd always been… careful. I wasn't wild, I wasn't daring. Sometimes I even asked him if he wanted me to change, if I was boring him.
Back then, he just held me close, kissing my hair, whispering, "Sweetheart, I only want you. Even if you wore rags, you'd still be the one I'd choose. Don't force yourself to be anything else. I love you the way you are."
But the man who said those words now reeked of lies.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "What do you think?"
He thought I was talking about his parents. He had no idea I'd already seen through him.
He suddenly hit the brakes, pulled me into his arms. "I'm sorry, Arianna. I shouldn't have left you alone. I promise, it won't happen again."
His embrace felt like a cage.
I pressed my hands against his chest, pushing him off gently. "Just drive, Marcello. I'm tired."
Because I knew deep down. There was no future left for us.
The moment I stepped into the house, I froze.
Serafina was lounging on the sofa in a silky nightgown, eating chips like she held the deed to the place. Her bare feet were tucked beneath her, one strap slipping off her shoulder with practiced carelessness.
"Didn't you say you had a party tonight? Said you weren't coming home?"