Page 77 of Salvatore

Chapter Twenty

Aedry

Salvatore jogs toward me when he sees me edging out of my building trying to hang on to my food, purse, and the gift bag. “Hi, love,” I say.

I steal a kiss as he reaches for my tray of baked rolls and pie. Tonight, he’s wearing a new black suit and gray dress shirt. His focus travels down my figure, taking in the sleeveless pink dress he likes. My kiss, or perhaps my dress, draws that sexy half grin I can’t get enough of.

Until he frowns. “Why didn’t you wait for me? I would have helped you carry this stuff out.”

“You’re so cute when you brood,” I tell him, easing his frown and causing his grin to return.

I slip my arm through the crook of his elbow and carefully walk down the small set of stairs. I’m wearing the silver shoes the boys bought me for my birthday, and have long since determined fashion can be deadly. I keep my eyes on my feet until we reach the walkway. “We’re already running late,” I remind him. “With Donnie going out of her way to make dinner, I didn’t want to waste any time.” I snuggle closer to him. “When you texted me that you were almost here, I came down to save us some time.”

Sal has been working out in the gym a lot lately. Even when he’s relaxed, his muscles bulge. Yet, it’s the added tension my words cause that has me looking up. “What’s wrong?”

He places the pie over the rolls long enough to open the driver’s side door and pop the trunk. “Donnie isn’t making dinner,” he says.

Instead of slipping into the front, I follow him to the back, watching him as he sets the food down and secures it with a net.

“Is she ordering food?” I ask, aware I’m not getting the whole picture.

He slams the door closed. “No,” he answers, placing his hand on my lower back and leading me to the front. I pause before slipping inside and securing my seatbelt, eyeing Sal as he walks around the front of his SUV.

He slides in, keeping his focus away from mine.

“Is she sick?” I press.

“No.” He rubs his jaw, appearing irritated as he pulls onto the main road. I wait for an explanation, but instead he motions to my gift bag on the floor. “What is that?”

“A house warming gift for Donnie and Vincent. I hadn’t realized they’d moved in.” It’s how I answer, because it’s what I believed. But now I know it’s not true. I glance at the bright orange bag with the glittery white tissue paper poking through, feeling foolish.

“Salvatore, please tell me what’s going on.”

He takes his time answering, as if attempting to spare me from some awful truth I don’t need to hear. “We’re not having dinner with Vincent and Donnie,” he says. “We’re having dinner with Vin and his wife.”

“What?” I squeak, certain I misheard.

He pulls onto the highway, his expression rigid. “Donnie is Vin’s gumad, his mistress. Rita is his wife.” His eyes slant my way. “I take it Donnie never bothered to tell you.”

“No,” I say, my voice tightening. “She?” I cut myself off, feeling my skin prickle with heat.

I have to admit, it takes me a long while to answer. “She always referred to him as the love of her life, and spoke of their relationship as if they’ve been together for a long time. When she said he wouldn’t commit to her, I didn’t realize it was because he was already committed.” My attention wanders around the cabin, as if searching for something that would have clued me in long before this. “Why would she date a married man?”

“Because of what he gives her,” he replies, although by now I figured it out.

“It’s not that I know these things don’t happen,” I say, trying to clarify what I’m feeling and work through how blind I’ve been. “But Donnie can have anyone. Why would she settle for being second best when she’s capable of so much more?”

He shifts in his seat. “For Donnie, being second best to Vin is better than being nothing at all. She’s been with him a long time, even longer than Vin’s been with Rita.”

“Donnie came first,” I say.

“Yeah. She did.” He sighs. “The thing you have understand about Donnie is she always wanted to be a kept woman. When she saw Vin, she saw her chance. She expected him to marry her, but then Rita came along. Vin married her, instead.”

“But he didn’t let Donnie go.”

“No,” he answers. “And Donnie didn’t want to walk away.”

I start to speak, but my thoughts return to the previous night. When Vincent said “our house” and “my woman,” I thought he was referring to Donnie. It’s no wonder she didn’t text me back when I asked her what to bring or why Sal was so tense during our encounter. That bastard invited us to his home, to his wife, in front of his mistress!

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