My Mafia Fiancé Thought I'd Always Let Him Get Away With Anything novel · Chapter 10 of 24
Chapter 10: Where's Your Sofa Now
Fiora went home that night with the oldest wife, wearing a borrowed coat.
I let her keep her necklace.
I told her she could keep her own mistakes too, and that I would not hold them over her.
It was past one in the morning when Cesare unlocked the narrow door on Taylor Street.
The dog went straight up the stairs and into the flat.
I followed, and he shut the door below and came up behind me.
In the kitchen I turned around.
"Nico said you never wrote," I said.
He stopped in the doorway with his coat half off.
"I wrote six times."
"I never got a letter, Cesare."
"I know that now." He said it quietly. "I knew it tonight, when he said it in front of all of them."
He rubbed his knuckles.
"He was taking them out of your mail for fourteen months."
I put my hand on the counter.
"What did they say?"
"That I was on the docks. That your father asked me to look after you."
He hung the coat on a hook.
"That if you ever needed a car at two in the morning, you could call."
"I would have called."
"You didn't."
"I never knew."
"I know." He looked at me. "I spent fourteen months thinking you had chosen it. Every night, I thought, she has chosen it."
"I didn't choose it. I got handed it."
"I know that too."
I crossed the kitchen.
I stopped a hand's width from his chest.
"You wrote to me for six months," I said, "and I didn't answer, and you stayed away."
"I was told to."
"Do you want to hear what I thought?"
"Yes."
"I thought you were the only one who never lied to me."
I swallowed.
"Then you were gone, and I told myself I was glad."
His jaw worked.
"Renata. The room. The rule."
"I know the rule."
"Then say it."
"Nothing happens in this flat except sleep and coffee."
"Yes."
"Spare room, Renata," I said, in his own voice, and he closed his eyes.
"That was a bad day," he said.
"It was a good line." I took the front of his shirt in my fist. "Where's your sofa now, Cesare?"
He opened his eyes.
I watched him lose the argument with himself.
He took my face in both hands and kissed me.
It was not careful.
It was fourteen months of nothing all at once.
I got my fingers into his hair and pulled his mouth harder onto mine.
He made a low sound I felt in my own chest.
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