Page 64 of Prideful Union
He only smiles a sad smile.
Mom and Luca leave for the airport. There’s a lot of healing to be done, but I hope Luca will be better once he’s back in New York.
Santino is next to me, leaning on his crutches. It’s strange seeing the strong, tough Mafia man with a cast on his foot. It makes him look … human. Vulnerable.
“Thank you for saving Luca,” I say quickly. For some reason, I feel full of shame with Santino. I judged him for lying to me (which was wrong), but then he saved my brother’s life without me having to ask. He did it for me. He got hurt—could have gotten even more hurt—because he saved Luca. Santino has changed. And yet, I feel embarrassed for how I acted.
I feel Santino looking at me. “You’re welcome,” he responds in his deep voice.
A sudden sob comes out of me. I never used to cry this much, but in the months since Santino and I married, I’ve let out more of my emotion.
Santino wraps me in my arms as I cry. I cry for Luca and the pain he’s going through. I cry for my mom and what she had to endure at the hands of Franco. I cry for myself. For losing the man I thought was my father.
All the while, Santino just holds me. When he first met, he would have laughed or dismissed my feelings, but now he embraces them. Now, he comforts me.
I can feel the flicker of love within me for this man.Thisis the marriage I wanted from the beginning. One where I could depend on my husband. Trust my husband. I trust Santino now. He went out of his way to save Luca when he didn’t have to. He did it for me.
Once my tears dry, I finally speak. “I need this version of you from now on. One who’s honest and there for me. Can you do that?”
He tightens his arm around me—his other arm being supported by the crutch. “I can do that. We talked about new beginnings a couple weeks ago. I want to continue that. No more lies. You’re my wife, Lucia. And I’m proud of that. Proud of you for how you’ve handled everything.”
“Even throwing wine onto Alexandria?”
His lips twitch. “Sure. Even that.”
“Are we going to be ok?” I search his eyes looking for an answer.
When he gives it, I only feel warmth in my heart. “We’re going to be ok.”
Santinoand I go out for coffee on a simple day date. He’s making the effort, and I appreciate it.
I’m tired of being upset over my mom and Franco and Luca. I need something lighthearted. Something easy.
We spend the time just … talking. Sharing funny childhood stories.
“You don’t have any embarrassing ones?” I ask him.
He scrunches his face up. It’s cute. “Maybe one. There was a time I used to run around with no underwear or trousers on.”
“Were you, like, two?”
“No. More like seven.”
I almost spit my coffee back out. “Wait. The serious, grumpy Santino I know would never be so carefree as to run around sans pants.”
“I used to do it all the time. When I was a kid, I loved having fun. Then I had to get more serious for work as I got older, and I think I forgot how to do that. But you’ve shown me. The idea of fun isn’t bad. I’m growing more comfortable with it.”
“Good.”
We smile at each other over our cups.
We talk about everything and nothing. Like the pressures Santino faced becoming a mob boss. The pressures I faced to always be pretty. We talk about silly things, too, like what we’d do in a zombie apocalypse.
Santino is a little resistant at first to the conversation topic but comes around. “I’d survive for years. I’m a very resourceful person. How would you do?”
“I’d probably die within a day.”
My answer makes him chuckle. “You’d probably be the first to die. Wouldn’t want to get your nails dirty in the apocalypse.”
