When I get in, she’s exactly in the mess I expected her to be in. She’s still dressed in her wedding gown, and she’s sitting in the corner of the room with her back against the wall. Tears have made the makeup stream down her face.
“Did you hurt him?” she asks.
I delay answering, which hurts her all the more. I don’t like hurting her, but what about me? How the fuck am I supposed to feel about Jacob? I’m not convinced she doesn’t have feelings for him.
Look at her. A mess for… what was he? A potential lover. I just happened to get there first.
“Massimo,” she cries. Her voice cuts through me.
“I didn’t hurt your little boyfriend, Emelia. I wanted to, but I didn’t. Instead of killing his ass for daring to piss with me, I roughed him up a little and sent him on his merry way.” I wish my voice didn’t hold so much emotion.
“Roughed him up? What did you do? What does that mean?” She looks freaked.
“He’s not missing any teeth.” She wouldn’t know how truly lucky her friend was, or she wouldn’t push me.
Her hands fist at her sides. “You are such an asshole. What is wrong with you?”
I see red. That’s the color I see before me, and it’s the first time it’s ever happened with her. I don’t know how she can ask me shit like that.
“What the fuck did you expect would happen? You think what he did was okay?” I throw back.
“No, it wasn’t okay. Of course, it wasn’t okay. But did you have to beat him up? He’s my best friend.”
Jesus Christ, I can’t do this shit with her right now. “Correction, he’s your former friend. You aren’t seeing that fucker ever again.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” she argues. It seems like she’s definitely forgotten how things work.
“Yes, I can. When last I checked, I own you. You are my wife, Emelia, and you will not disrespect me with this boy. We’ll see how you like it when the tables are turned.”
Her eyes go wide. I know I was an asshole for saying that, but right now, I don’t care. I tried to learn to be gentle for her, and it’s not working, so I’ll play hard.
“When?” she asks. “When the tables are turned, Massimo?”
Good… let her worry that I’ll cheat. But the fucking joke’s is on me. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t cheat on her. But she doesn’t need to know that. She can stew in her thoughts.
I’m too hyped up on rage and jealousy to be around her, so I turn and walk away. Before I reach the door, I hear something break. I turn back and see that she’s smashed a vase against the wall.
“Where are you going?” she demands, but I don’t answer. “Are you going to her? Gabriella?”
I walk away and close the door. Once outside, I hear her break down, but I keep walking.
I spend my wedding night at the strip club.
In the office.
I order a pizza and beer and watch classic films until I fall asleep at the desk.
The phone wakes me early the next day. It buzzes right beside my head on the desk. It’s Tristan.
“Hey, man,” I answer, trying not to sound like shit.
“Hey, we got a problem,” he replies.
I bolt upright. My first thoughts go to Emelia. “Is Emelia okay?” I blurt. It’s a stupid question since I should be with her.
“It’s not her. It’s the kid, her friend. He’s dead.”
My mouth goes dry.