After Another Woman Cured the Don's OCD, I Left

"Donna, wait up."

A sugary voice came from behind me. It was Fiona.

She was Elio's new assistant, and she was always hanging off him.

I'd told Elio more than once how I felt about her.

He'd only smile and tell me not to be so sensitive.

I stopped.

Fiona hurried around in front of me, her red lips parted, catching her breath.

"Donna, the Don... the Don says please don't be upset."

"He can't speak for himself? He needs you to carry his messages?"

"You know how it is." She gave me a wounded look. "The Don won't leave the meeting."

His rules again.

The Wednesday meeting, nine to eleven, was the one time that could never be interrupted. Not even for me.

And that was hardly the only one. Elio had plenty of rules.

Like how he only used things he'd chosen himself.

He had never once worn the wedding anniversary watch I gave him.

But he'd fasten himself the cheap cufflinks from Fiona, then stand at the mirror straightening his cuffs.

He couldn't stand anyone touching his things.

Even when I was shivering, he wouldn't lend me his coat.

But one word from Fiona about being cold, and he'd take off his own scarf and drape it over her.

Seven years of therapists never cured Elio's OCD.

Then Fiona showed up, and overnight it was gone.

But I was the one who was his wife. His Donna.

"Why don't I call the Don, have him tell you himself."

She was already dialing as she said it.

I started to tell her not to waste her breath, because Elio never took calls during a meeting.

The next second, he picked up.

Something in my chest ached. At Fiona's little nod, I took the phone.

"Danielle, are you angry?" Elio asked, as if coaxing a little girl. "I'm sorry. You know how I am."

"I don't accept apologies over the phone."

My voice came out hard. "Come find me. We'll settle this face to face."

There was a moment of silence, and I could all but picture the troubled way he'd be knitting his brow.

"Sweetheart, it's not eleven yet. You know I can't break my own rule."

Rules.

Never taking a call during a meeting was another of his rules.

My fingers tightened around Fiona's phone before I knew it. I hung up and tossed it back to her.

She watched me with a faint smile, something scornful flickering in her eyes.

I held back the tears, turned, and strode toward the garage.

I drove fast, with nowhere to go. A little dog shot into the road, I wrenched the wheel, and the car hit a lamppost.

The instant the airbag deployed, pain tore through my ribs.

Without thinking, I called Elio.

It rang once, then cut off.

I called again through the pain, and again it cut off.

By the seventh try the call finally connected, and by then I was drenched in sweat from the pain.

His sigh came through, clear and just a little impatient.

"Danielle, I'm in a meeting. I don't want any calls disturbing me."

The airbag had me pinned against the seat and I could barely breathe. I got the words out in broken pieces.

"Elio... I've been in an accident... come get me..."

Silence on the line.

Then Elio's urgent voice.

"Give me the address. I'll send someone for you right away."

It felt like a needle had jabbed straight into my heart.

"Elio. I want you to come get me."

It was a while before I heard his troubled voice again.

"Sweetheart, it's only five past ten. The meeting isn't over yet..."

"But I need you. I need you right now."

I was nearly screaming. "I've been in a crash. Can't you break the rule just once, for me?"

This time I waited a full minute before I heard his answer.

"Danielle, don't push me... you know I can't..."

He said he couldn't.

That needle-point of pain burst all at once and turned into a hurricane that swept through me.

I gave the address and hung up.

The better part of an hour later, the men Elio sent got me out and drove me to the hospital.

In the car I was scrolling social media when Fiona's new post happened to come up.

She was standing outside, a kitten in her arms, a tender-faced Elio beside her, and the caption read:

[When I realized my kitten had run off I nearly cried. Thank God the boss went with me to find her right away.]

I checked the time it was posted. 10:50.

And he'd just told me he couldn't.

So it wasn't that he couldn't leave the meeting. He just couldn't leave it before eleven, for me.

The pain in my ribs seemed to shoot straight to my heart.

And as the tears slid down, all at once it came to me.

I was completely done with it.