Page 23 of Unspoken Ties
I firmly told myself that I did not like him, that it was just a lapse of judgement. As I was repeating it to myself like a mantra, trying to get it to stick, he walked into the room.
“Good morning,” he said.
His hair was ruffled from bedhead, but he still somehow managed to look flawless. Ugh. I felt a brief pang in my chest, the mantra I had been repeating to myself was completely undone.
“Morning,” I responded.
He sauntered towards the kitchen, his broad shoulders and defined back muscles on full display. His skin glistened under the kitchen lights, accentuating every ripple and curve of his toned physique. As he turned away from me to start making coffee, I couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles flexed with each movement.
I covered my eyes with my hands and mentally scolded myself. Ogling him was not something I should be doing.
“You alright?” I wasn’t looking at him, but from his tone of voice I could tell he was amused.
I removed my hands from my eyes and put on my best poker face. “M’fine.”
He turned to face me, the hint of an amused smirk playing on his lips, offset by the concern in his eyes. He looked directly at me, as if trying to read the conflicted emotions that must be visible on my face, though I desperately tried to hide them.
“Good,” he said, turning back to the coffeemaker. “I don’t have to go into work today. What do you want to do?”
“You want to hang out…with me?”
“You’re my wife,” he responded, looking over his shoulder. “Of course.”
I was only his wife on paper and in the eyes of the law. Beyond that, we were nothing but passing acquaintances, cordial at best. We simply…coexisted.
Last night wasn’t coexisting.I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts out of my mind.
Ettore took it as me declining his invitation. “No? Alright, then.”
“No! I mean yes, I want to hang out.”
An hour later, we settled into the seats of the car and headed to a lesser known park. I didn’t like crowds. My father almost never let me be in them growing up, and by doing so I had never adjusted to being around mass amounts of people. I wanted to escape to a place where the only sounds were those of nature, not the chatter of tourists or the honking of cars.
We reached the park and parked the car in an almost empty lot. The park was surrounded by trees that had just began to lose their leaves for the fall. They rustled together on the floor, the wind migrating them in unique patterns.
I let out a sigh of contentment.
“Better than Central Park?” Ettore said.
“Way better,” I said, grabbing the handle to my door and pushing it open.
I slipped out of the car and shut the door behind me, my boots crunching on the gravel underneath. Ettore got out from his side, his height and stride making me feel tiny in comparison.
The vibrant colors of the landscape melded together in a harmonious dance, drawing me further into its spell. It was as if time had stood still in this moment, encapsulating me in a world of pure beauty. As I zoned out, I didn’t hear Ettore urgently trying to get my attention.
A black unmarked van had pulled up beside me, and two men emerged from the vehicle. One drew his gun and pointed directly at Ettore, then a loud shot rang through the air. I watched in horror as Ettore’s chest began to bloom red.
The other man grabbed me roughly from behind and started dragging me towards the van. The powerful grip on my back sent a chill down my spine, and I realized I was in grave danger.
Would Ettore be ok? Another shot rang out, and my stomach sank.
The man’s grip on my neck tightened as he let out a string of curses, and I turned to face the direction of the noise. Mystomach churned - the man who shot Ettore lay dead on the floor, a single bullet through his forehead. Blood pooled around him like a dark halo.
“Motherfucker,” the still living henchman hissed at Ettore.
He unholstered his gun, but Ettore got to him first. The bullet whizzed right by my ear and hit the man in the head. His grip on me relaxed, and he fell to the floor.
The driver of the van floored it, his tires kicking up dirt and gravel in his desperate escape. He was not interested in meeting the same fate as his buddies.