Page 5 of Of Murder and Matrimony

My shower beckoned to me, the promise of hot water coaxing me to strip out of my clothes and toss them in the laundry basket, then climb in to wash the day from my body. I tilted my head back and let the water trail through my long honey-blonde hair, taking a moment to breathe and unwind.

Family medicine allowed me to see a wide variety of patients with enough medical conditions to test my skills constantly, and I was never bored. It wasn’t nearly as stressful as some of my hospital rotations in residency, but I always appreciated my after-work hours; the small amount of time I had to myself.

Not tonight, though. I hurried through the rest of my shower, remembering Jason would be here any minute to make dinner. When I hopped out, I dried myself off and wrapped the towel around my head to mop up the extra water from my hair while I found a comfortable cotton bra and panty set, a baggy white t-shirt, and my favorite worn grey sweatpants. I twisted the end of my shirt at the side and tied it into a knot, figuring I could at least show a little of my figure with Jason there.

He wasn’t picky about my appearance, so he wouldn’t care that I left my hair to air dry. I hung the towel on the bar, brushed out my honey-blonde hair, working a few tangles free from the end, then padded down the stairs to find my fiancé already cooking away in my kitchen.

“Hey,” Jason greeted me with a grin, checking me out in my frumpy clothes. “I knocked, but you were still in the shower.”

I hugged him from behind and watched him season the steaks on the plastic cutting board. Potatoes already boiled on the stove. “It smells good in here already.”

“Why don’t you put one of those crime documentaries on?” he suggested, kissing the top of my head. “I saw one about the mafia on the list.”

I turned so he couldn’t see the grimace on my face. There was no good reason I could give him not to put the show on. “Yeah, we can watch that.”

When it started, I promptly tuned it out, sitting on a stool across the counter from Jason and watching as he drained the potatoes and tossed them in my mixer with butter, cream, and seasonings. My mouth watered at the promise of comfort food.

“You think it’s still like that?”

Jason’s question had me spinning to see what he was looking at. “What?”

“The mafia,” he explained, pointing the spatula he held at the tv. “Do you think they still run the cities and have secret meetings, pay off officials, that kind of stuff?”

If he only knew how much I could tell him about the workings of criminal organizations in the US. I hadn’t been included in my family’s business, but nobody who grew up in that environment ever totally avoided the realities of the lifestyle.

They definitely paid off officials and had clandestine meetings. My own arranged marriage was worked out in the back room of Angelo’s, an Italian restaurant owned by the Neretti family.

But I didn’t tell Jason any of that. Instead, I shrugged. “I don’t know. It seems a little over-the-top to me.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He held his palm over the pan on the stove and nodded, then put our steaks on the lightning-hot surface to sear. The sizzling sound made my stomach growl. Jason’s following words had that growl sinking, replaced with anxiety. “Have you given any more thought to setting a wedding date?”

I clasped my hands in my lap under the counter where he couldn’t see, my short nails leaving divots in my skin. “Honestly, not really. Things have been so busy at the clinic.”

He hummed, his lips pressing together firmly. He shrugged his shoulders and met my eyes. “I understand if you have cold feet.”

“I don’t!” I objected immediately, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

“It’s completely normal,” he continued. “I know how independent you’ve always been. It’s one of the things I admire most about you. Giving up a solitary life and learning to share everything with another person can seem daunting. I’m not completely unfazed by it.”

I groaned inwardly at how fucking sweet Jason was trying to be. So I went with it. “I’ve been alone for a long time.”

“I know.” He pulled the steaks out of the pan to rest on the cutting board and placed his hand over mine, squeezing gently. “I don’t want you to be alone anymore, though. I want to start our life together.”

“Me, too,” I lied with a smile. Not that I didn’t love Jason. I did, in my own way. Our relationship had always been much more like good friends than passionate lovers. Our engagement seemed more like a business arrangement than desperation to avoid living without each other for another day. Our wedding would be… “Next June.”

I don’t know why I blurted it, but Jason’s face lit up as his grin widened. “Perfect. I like it. Of course, you’ll need time to arrange everything. And I’ll help however you want me to.”

“That’s so sweet of you to offer.” My smile wavered, but he mistook my watery eyes for happy tears.

He brushed a wayward drop from my cheek and leaned over, kissing my lips softly. “Anything for you, Nikki.”

There was that lie again.

My name. My past. All of my life, a lie.

“I’m so excited.” Jason swiveled his hips as he plated our dinner. “We’re going to be married next June, and then we’re going to have babies, and you’ll make the best mother. I just know it.”

That was another thing. Jason wanted me to give up my hours at the practice to stay home with our future children. I knew it was the norm in town. But it wasn’t my thing. I became a doctor to help people because I couldn’t remember my mother, who had passed from a brain aneurysm when I was a toddler. Why should I have to give up my dreams?

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