Page 35 of The Butcher's Wife
My eyes widen. “You mean Dom?”
I know he’s not a good man, I’m not lying to myself about that, but I’ve seen him on the couch, groaning from a belly full of my mom’sarancini. I’ve seen him play princess tea time with my baby cousin and dig his thick fingers into the muddy coat of Cousin Tito’s dog. He’s not the kind of man who’d hurt me just because he could.
“Do we know another Dom?”
“He’s not hurting me.” I dry my hands on a kitchen towel before meeting her eye. “But, thank you for asking.”
She shrugs. “So, you like him then?”
I wipe my hot palms on the sides of my leggings as I walk around the island.
God, this feels ridiculous. “Yes, I like Dom.”
The corners of her mouth twitch. “I mean, like,like?”
We both grin, and I stand on my toes to nudge her shoulder with mine. She relaxes and waves a hand around to gesture at the penthouse, lit up by warm lights that cast a glow on all of Dom’s belongings. The city outside sparkles from an uncharacteristically bright sunlight. “What’s it like? Being married?”
It’s a bit odd to think we’re the same age. Valeria doesn’t convey a look ofinnocence, necessarily, but she seems like a normal, if a little serious, twenty-something-year-old, as she waits for an answer.
“So far, he mostly stays out of the penthouse,” I say.
She clears her throat, looking away from me. Something flickers in her expression. “What about kids?”
The thought makes my skin crawl. Doesshewant kids? It’s hard to imagine Valeria in her all-black outfit, cooing over a baby.
“Not for a long time.”Not ever, if I’m lucky.I glance at the wall clock in the living room. “Didn’t you say you had to make it to work around six?”
She blows out a long stream of air, her shoulders slumping down. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?”
As I walk her to the elevator and we wait for it to arrive, she gives me a long look, the kind Mom usually gives me when she’s about to say something I won’t like. I want topeel the doors open and shove her inside before she can let the words out.
“You know,” she says while I fix a frozen smile on my face, “at Annetta’s wedding, I thought she was the most beautiful bride I’d ever seen. She was like a real-life princess, and she looked so happy. I’m glad she had that. She got to be happy.”
The elevator doors open. She squeezes my shoulder and steps inside, and the moment the doors close, I let grief pull me under, and I sob.
Waves crash over me,each stronger than the next. I suck in a mouthful of dirty water and flail my arms to stay afloat. The water is syrupy and dense, and I can barely keep my head far enough above the waterline to take a breath before the next wave crashes over me.
I’m going to die here.
My mind cleaves in two.
Let go.
Fight.
I don’t know which to listen to, but I don’t have to wait long to decide. A pair of hands grips my shoulders. I go limp. They’ll rescue me.
The hands move to my neck, and instead of lifting me, they constrict and push me further under the waves. My lungs burn as I hold my breath and claw at the hands, kicking at the water and doing everything I can to stay alive a few moments longer.
I wake up in the dark. I can’t breathe. I scrabble at my throat and kick at the bedsheets, trying to get a lungful of air. The only thing I can do is choke and gasp like a dying fish.
BOOM.
My bedroom door swings open, and a massive man storms inside.
A scream lodges in my throat. I clamber back, my legs catching in the sheets, still clutching my throat.
The man grabs my ankle and hauls me toward him.
