Page 54 of Third Degree

“Swear.” Another lie.

“Are you all right?” Her voice dropped, heavy with worry.

“Mentally? Not so hot. Physically? All good.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just one question.” It took me a moment to gather the courage, but I had to ask.

“Go ahead,” my friend offered without hesitation.

I was quiet for a moment. Then asked, “Has he been asking about me?” I hadn’t explicitly shared details about Elio with Chelsea, but she knew about him from the wedding. She had seen his hand on my thigh during the ceremony.

Tatum had also said something to us at the reception. It was obvious to her and Tatum, so I figured they must have discussed it at some point. I just needed to know if he cared.

“No,” she whispered, her tone filled with empathy.

A surge of sadness immediately wreaked havoc on my chest. I felt like I was in a pool drowning, yet there was no ladder or way to swim out.

The insurmountable pain that a single word could create was something I wasn’t aware of until now. In some way, I knew it was over between us, but I guess hearing this from Tatum made me realize just how finished we actually were.

I’d been in love with a man since I had just become an adult. I waited my entire life for him and in some way, I expected him to waltz in here to protect me like he always had—like he was good at doing. So when nothing happened, I felt myself numb to the sadness.

I coughed a few times so Tatum didn’t hear the tears wetting the pads of my cheeks.

“Okay. Anyway, how areyou?” I tried to change the subject.

“Ugh.” Chelsea sighed again on the other end of the line. “I guess Alex is busy on the campaign trail and is taking a detour somewhere next week before he continues, but we aren’t really talking.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. How are the other girls?”

“Tatum just got back from her honeymoon, but whatever Alex has to go do, Julian does too. You know how their lives are.” Eh, little did she know Ireallyknew how the Mafia life was.

“Maeve?” I asked about our other friend.

“She’s doing fine. I guess she’s starting to have issues with her ex, but she says they are working it out.”

I heard my mother climbing the stairs and knew I needed to hang up.

“Shit. Chels, I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk—”

“Gianna!” my mother screamed, and knowing all too well Chelsea heard it on the other end, I quickly ended the call. Fuck.

I jumped off the bed and threw open the wooden door.

“Can I help you?”

“Come downstairs, right now!” she commanded and grabbed me by the wrist just as she did when I was a toddler in trouble.

“Let me go. I am coming.” I shrugged out of her grasp and sulked behind her to the living room, where a seamstress and a few cousins were gathered.

“Look at the bride!” Rina, one of my cousins, exclaimed.

She was going to be a bridesmaid at my wedding, although I hadn’t spoken to her in maybe fifteen years. She was also married to my father’s favorite right-hand man, Carlo.

I merely nodded and rolled my eyes at my mother, who scolded me by shoving me into the center of the room.

“Get into this with your feet first,” the seamstress said and once I stepped into it, she pulled the most obnoxious wedding dress up over my body.

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