Page 32 of House of Lies

Caelia

The loud ringtone of my phone shatters the silence in the waiting room. I have been waiting for Cosima to finish or for the knot in my stomach to consume me—whichever happens first. I initially ignored Mattia’s call, but he persisted, ringing four more times. I’m so weak that by the fifth, I give in and answer his call, having no desire to face hell when I get home.

“What the fuck are you doing, Caelia?” His voice blazes with fury.

My brain overworks itself, trying to find why Mattia sounds ready to set the world on fire. I have done nothing wrong recently. I’ve been the perfect fucking wife, giving him no reason to doubt me. I haven’t embarrassed him or said anything out of line.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why the fuck is Domenico telling me you have an appointment for an abortion?”

Oh, shit. I made sure that no one followed me when I left the mansion. I thought I had been careful. You can never be too cautious with this man.

“It’s not what you think.” I try to calm him down, although I don’t know why he’s so angry.

“And please tell me what the fuck that is,” he growls in my ear.

“I’m not having an abortion,” I whisper, standing up to avoid attracting attention from others in the waiting room.

“Then what the hell are you doing there?”

“Would you just stop swearing and listen to me?” I plead, taking a deep breath.

“I’m listening.”

This is so unlike him. I hear the ragged rhythm of his breathing at the other end, but he waits for an explanation I’m not ready to give. I don’t want to betray Cosima’s trust, nor do I want Mattia to think I’m having an abortion. Things have been going well between us lately, and I’d hate to return to where we started. I can’t go back there again. God, I can’t.

“I promise you. I’m not having an abortion, and I’ll explain everything as soon as I get home. You have to trust me on this. Please.”

I don’t know what else to say for now.

“Trust you, Caelia? After you went behind Domenico’s back?” His disbelief seeps through his words.

“I had to.” I grind my teeth.

I could remind him of what happened the last time I was pregnant, but a perfect wife wouldn’t.

“You had to,” he repeats, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

I spot Domenico talking with the receptionist at the desk. He’s six feet of intimidating muscle. I can’t blame the woman for opening up the files on her computer, even if she shouldn’t. She starts talking, and I can see Domenico reporting everything back to Mattia, typing away on his phone. Meanwhile, the silence at the other end of the line tells me that Mattia is listening, waiting for an explanation I can’t provide yet. I can’t afford to betray Cosima’s trust.

“Come home. Now.”

“The fuck I will,” I snap. “I’ll come home when I’m done here. Don’t wait up.”

I hang up, knowing I will face the consequences later. Domenico catches sight of me and smirks, a painful reminder that I couldn’t even look him in the eye after he witnessed Mattia fucking me with no shame on the stairs. Scoffing, I turn on my heels, returning to the waiting area.

I send my husband a text.

Please tell Domenico to leave. I’ll come home, and we’ll talk about this.

For now. I’ll go home for now. But there will come a day when I won’t return. I doubt Mattia will care too much. I will embarrass him, and he will hunt me down—perhaps even kill me if he finds me—but I don’t think he will miss me. There are no feelings between us. There can’t be any. I must remember that. No children. He could let me continue with my life, but he won’t. He can’t. Even if he wanted to, he’s not allowed.

Domenico makes himself scarce. I won’t mention this to Cosima. I will find a way to convince Mattia to keep his mouth shut about this, even if it means owing him a favor. It’s a better outcome than Cosima’s husband finding out. He’s a better man than Mattia, but there’s no telling what he would do if he discovered the truth.

I wait for another hour. Cosima asks me to drive her home and refuses to speak with me, no matter how much I try. I don’t want her to drown in her thoughts.

“You’re not alone,” I remind her, squeezing her hand as she stops at a red light.