The anger in my chest wouldn't rise and wouldn't settle. I reached up to touch his face, but my hand fell back, useless, and the dark closed over me.
Somewhere in the haze I felt Salvatore panic, felt him scoop me up and run from the building, shouting my name over and over.
When I came to again, he had the Family's quiet physician pinned by the collar.
"She was perfectly fine. Why would she pass out? If you can't find out what's wrong, every last one of you can get out."
He said it low, the way men in his world said things they meant. I tugged at the hem of his shirt and forced the words out.
"Don't take it out on the doctor. I've just been too busy lately. I forgot to eat."
Salvatore let out a breath.
The handle turned softly, and a woman walked in, every strand of her polished, every stone on her hands worth more than the room. Her face was full of confusion.
"Salvatore, who's this?"
His hand dropped mine in an instant. I recognized her before he could answer.
Carlotta Ferraro. The celebrated jeweler whose name opened doors in every Family from here to the coast.
My boyfriend's wife.
I dragged a weak smile onto my face.
"Hello. I fainted on the street just now, and this gentleman was kind enough to help me."
The tension went out of her, and she walked straight out.
For the first time in my life I hated having good eyesight. The report in her hand said she was pregnant.
Salvatore opened his mouth, and it was a long moment before anything came.
"Gianna, why don't you ask me anything?"
I shook my head, meek, and gave him a sweet smile.
"I trust that you have your reasons."
If all of it was a dream, I would rather it stay a beautiful one all the way to the end.
Salvatore blew on the broth one of his men had carried up, and as he bent toward me the couples' ring on its chain swung free at his collar. In the sports car, his neck had been bare.
I looked into his eyes and laughed, soft and light.
"Salvatore. Thank you."
He tilted his head, as if he hadn't understood. His thumb moved, slow, to the band hidden against his shirt, turning it the way a man does when he's deciding how much truth a room can hold.
Thank you for acting this out with me. Thank you for playing your part so well.
A nurse knocked.
"Mr. Lombardi, your wife is ready for her prenatal exam."
His face changed in a heartbeat. He turned to look at me.
I yawned and rolled away from him.
"I'm so tired. Salvatore, let me sleep a little."
He let out a breath, pressed a kiss to my forehead, and slipped out of the room on quiet feet, an enforcer falling in behind him at the door without a word.
The warm tears soaked into the blanket, unchecked now.
And I couldn't hold back any longer. I slipped out after him, careful and quiet.
Around the corner, Carlotta was confronting him.
Salvatore sounded worn down.
"It'll be over in a few days. Carlotta, just wait a little longer. I'll explain everything to you."
She flung a sheaf of paper into his face and laughed, cold. Then she slid a ring from her finger and set it down on the windowsill beside her with a single deliberate click.
"And here the whole Cosa Nostra thought you kept yourself clean. Turns out you just have a taste for weeds. She could work her whole life and not earn what one bathroom in our house cost. She isn't worth you."
The pages scattered across the floor, and I saw them. Dense with our past, all of it.
Falling in love in college, scraping by on part-time work, splitting a single ice cream cone and so happy doing it.
Whatever sweetness was still in my mouth, the truth had already washed it away.
Salvatore said nothing. Carlotta was already gone, the ring left behind on the sill.
He bent and gathered the pages one by one, his thumb tracing a photo of the two of us.
I fled back to the room, undone, only to find Carlotta already inside, waiting.
She dropped a banded stack of cash and the pregnancy report on the floor.
"I'm having his child. So you'll stay out of our family, won't you?"
"This is more than you'll earn in a lifetime. Take it and go. Think of it as me buying back all these years of yours."
I gathered up every bit of strength I had to pick up the cash, my voice barely there. Under the blanket my thumb found the thin silver band my father left me, turning it, turning it.
"Fine."
After she left, I drafted my notice and sent it to the man I worked for.
That evening Salvatore packed everything up and checked me out, bundling me into so many layers I could barely move.
"Wear more, then you won't get sick. You scared me, you know that?"
