Chapter 7: Weddings Can Feel Like Funerals

Wilhemina-

“Before we end tonight…”

Antonio Cappelli rose from his chair, champagne glass in hand. The dining hall gradually quieted as his gaze settled on Stephanie first.

“My daughter.” His voice softened. “From the moment you were born, I knew eventually there would come a day when another man would become the person you turned to before me.”

Stephanie’s eyes immediately filled.

Beside me, Sara whispered, “Five.”

I bit back a laugh. Antonio looked toward Marco.

“Take care of her. Respect her. Protect her. But above everything else…never make her regret choosing you.”

Marco nodded solemnly.

“I won’t.”

Antonio smiled.

“Then welcome to my family, son.”

Applause erupted. Stephanie cried. Marco kissed her forehead. It was beautiful. Sweet. But was it bullshit? God, I hoped not. Because I remembered the beautiful things my father and Emilio’s parents had said when I married him.

Two families becoming one.

A lifetime of prosperity.

An unbreakable union.

May you always honor one another.

What a fucking joke. I lifted my champagne. Please, Stephanie...let your marriage be different.

The celebration eventually moved into the courtyard.

Music played beneath strings of lights while servers circulated with wine and champagne. I stood with Sara and several other wives when Amber approached...with Yazmin. Of course.

“Mina,” Amber greeted sweetly.

“Amber.”

Yazmin smiled.

“Wilhemina.”

“Yazmin.”

The temperature around our circle practically dropped. Sara glanced between us before sipping her wine.

“You know,” she said casually, “watching Stephanie tonight made me think about how beautiful marriage can be when a husband actually remains faithful.”

Oh! Sara. Another woman, Bianca Moretti, hummed.

“Unfortunately, there will always be shameless women willing to prey on married men.”

Yazmin scoffed. Bianca slowly looked at her.

“You disagree?”

Yazmin lifted her chin.

“I simply believe the woman who has a man’s heart is his true wife. Sometimes the woman legally married to him is merely the mistress.”

Silence. Complete. Fucking. Silence.

Amber looked delighted.

“Well, Wilhemina?” She smiled. “What do you think?”

“Mina doesn’t have to—”

“She’s a big girl, Sara.” Amber interrupted. “She can answer for herself. Besides, we’re only having girl talk…right?”

My lips curled; and then...I shrugged.

“Who cares about hearts and true love?”

Yazmin’s smile faltered.

“The only thing that matters—especially in this world—is power.”

Nobody spoke.

“The woman with the connections. The name. The businesses. The money. The family.” I lifted my glass. “The woman he doesn’t have to hide.”

My gaze landed directly on Yazmin.

“That’s the only woman who matters.”

Her face tightened.

“Everything else is a hobby. A temporary shot of glory because we all know powerful men occasionally enjoy a good pick-me who knows how to…stroke their ego.”

Sara choked. Bianca burst out laughing. Within seconds, nearly the entire circle joined her.

“That,” Sara wheezed, “is why Wilhemina runs half the damn businesses in Central-Bay.”

Bianca lifted her glass.

“The real power of a woman.”

I smiled.

“We keep everything together.”

“Exactly.” I took a sip. “But don’t forget, ladies…” I lowered my glass. “We have the power to destroy it too.”

Amber’s smile tightened.

“Wow, Wilhemina. So by your logic, you’d be perfectly fine with Emilio having a mistress as long as you’re the one in control? That’s very modern thinking of you.”

I shrugged.

“Whether he has a whore or not doesn’t really matter.”

Yazmin’s eyes darkened.

“Still…” I tilted my head. “I understand why you’d be concerned.”

Amber frowned.

“Excuse me?”

“Your husband has that twenty-two-year-old secretary, doesn’t he?”

Her face changed.

“So I imagine you’d be concerned if he suddenly started spending more and more nights at the office.”

Amber’s face turned crimson. Nobody laughed. Not yet but the amusement dancing across their faces was worse. Amber spun around and stormed away.

Yazmin followed.

The second they were out of earshot...Sara howled.

“Shameless!” Bianca laughed. “That woman is simply shameless!”

I calmly finished my wine. Perhaps this weekend wouldn’t be completely unbearable. Of course I should have known my little tryst would go unnoticed. 

I had just stepped from the shower later that night when the bedroom door flew open. Emilio stormed inside. Then stopped. His eyes dropped and for one brief moment, anger disappeared.

Something else replaced it. Awe? Admiration? His cheeks actually flushed. Interesting. Emilio had rarely seen my body during our marriage, and the way he stared now almost made me uncomfortable. It was only one person I wanted looking at me like that...I tightened the towel around myself.

“Is something wrong?”

His gaze snapped upward.

“What did you say to Yazmin?”

There he was. My dutiful husband.

“What?”

“What did you say to Yazmin?”

“Why?”

“She said you called her a whore and deliberately embarrassed her in front of everyone!”

I stared at him.

He continued ranting about humiliation, unnecessary cruelty and—of fucking course—Yazmin’s depression.

I laughed causing Emilio to stop.

“What’s funny?”

My expression hardened.

“First, I didn’t call your little mistress a whore. But if I had, I would’ve been well within my rights.”

“What the hell, Wilh—”

“Second, maybe you should tell your little whore to think twice before trying to embarrass someone by insinuating mistresses are more important than wives.”

He froze.

“What?”

There it was. Confusion. Genuine fucking confusion...fool. He had no idea what he little depressed bunny was truly like.

“She wouldn’t—”

“She did.”

“You must’ve misunderstood.”

I waved my hand.

“I don’t care.”

“Wilhemina—”

“Instead of trying to chastise me, try controlling your little whore.” I walked toward my side of the bed. “Because next time…I won’t be so nice.”

I climbed beneath the covers. Emilio remained standing there. Confused. Conflicted. Irritated...good.

The following morning, breakfast was served in the Cappellis’ grand dining hall. I was halfway through my fruit when Yazmin entered looking suspiciously radiant.

“My goodness,” Ramona commented. “Someone slept well.”

Yazmin smiled.

“Oh, yes. I had an amazing sleeping aid last night. Put me right to sleep.”

Her gaze slid toward Emilio. He suddenly found his coffee fascinating. Of course. I chuckled.

“I definitely know what that’s like. Having a good sleeping aid.”

Emilio’s head snapped toward me. I continued eating. Yazmin’s smile tightened. Once again, she had failed to rattle me.

The wedding itself was breathtaking.

Stephanie looked stunning. Marco cried when she walked toward him. They exchanged vows beneath an enormous floral arch overlooking the ocean.

By the reception, champagne flowed everywhere.

I was heading toward the bar when I passed one of the luxury portable restrooms positioned near the far side of the gardens. A noise came from inside. I kept walking. 

Then...

“Oh…yes…Emilio!”

I froze. My heart stopped. Then started pounding.

“I missed you so much.”

Heavy breathing. Muffled sounds. My eyes burned. How much disrespect was I supposed to take? It wasn’t even the cheating anymore.

It was this. Here.

At a wedding where hundreds of people knew us. He couldn’t respect me enough to wait until we returned home? Tears blurred my vision.

I turned quickly...and slammed directly into someone. His drink hit the ground.

“Oh God!” I bent automatically. “I’m so sorry.”

My voice cracked.

“That’s okay.”

I froze. That voice. Why did...I straightened quickly. But the man was already disappearing into the crowd. Tall. Dark suit. Then gone amongst hundreds of guests.

I stared after him...strange. Turning, I quickly headed back into the estate. The moment I entered, I locked myself inside one of the estate bathrooms.

The moment I sat down, I cried. Not because Emilio loved Yazmin. Because apparently three years of humiliation still hadn’t been enough for him.

Buzz.

The sound startled me as I wiped my face and looked at my phone.

Unknown Number: 🐱

My brows furrowed. What? It couldn’t...

Me: Who is this?

The response bubble appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Unknown: Don’t tell me my little kitten has forgotten me already. My feelings won’t be able to take that.

My mouth fell open. My Angel.

Me: How did you get my number?!

Unknown: I told you...I’d find you.

My smile vanished. If he had my number…

Me: Does that mean you know who I am?

Me: Isn’t this against the rules?

Me: Why did you find me?

Me: What do you want?

Several moments passed.

Unknown: Feisty kitten.

My lips betrayed me...again. Even though this was nothing to smile at.

Unknown: There are many things I know.

Another message.

Unknown: But there’s only one thing I want from you.

Me: What?

Unknown: To see you.

My heart fluttered.

Me: Why?

Unknown: Because I miss you.

Jesus Christ.

Me: Do you know who I am?

Unknown: I know enough.

Me: Enough to what?

Unknown: Enough to know you should come see me.

I stared at the screen. Then typed.

Me: I missed you too.

My chest tightened. What the hell was I doing?! I wasn't sure why, but my fingers kept going.

Me: I’m at a wedding that feels more like a funeral. I’ve locked myself in a bathroom.

Me: I wish I could see you right now.

His response came almost instantly.

Unknown: Not to worry my love...I’m always watching you.

I laughed.

Me: Creepy.

Unknown: Come see me.

I thought about Emilio. About Yazmin. About that portable restroom. Then I thought about him. The way my Angel made me feel.

Me: Okay.

Unknown: 😊

I laughed again.

Unknown: Monday. The Den.

Me: Deal.

I stood. My phone buzzed again.

Unknown: Do me a favor.

Me: What?

Unknown: When you step outside, look north of the sun. Tuck your hair behind your ear and smile.

I frowned.

Me: Why?

Unknown: Because you look beautiful when sunlight touches your smile.

My heart stumbled.

Me: You’ve never seen me in sunlight.

A pause.

Unknown: I have in my dreams.

Oh. My. God. Nobody had ever spoken to me like this. My lips instantly curled.

Me: I’ll think about it.

Unknown: LOL. Feisty kitten.

A genuine laugh escaped my lips. I cleaned my face and finally left. Outside, sunlight spilled across the gardens.

I glanced north.

Then, for reasons I couldn’t explain, tucked my hair behind my ear...and smiled.

“Mina!”

Sara approached with Bianca and two other women.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

I smiled.

“Sorry. I needed a minute.”

I joined them and somehow…the wedding felt a little less unbearable.

The ride back to Denmoore was quiet. Emilio worked on his phone. I stared out the window.

Buzz.

I looked down. My eyes widened.

Holy...a photograph...of my Angel. Very little clothing and an extremely unfair body. A laugh escaped before I could stop it.

Emilio immediately looked over.

“What’s so funny?”

I locked my phone.

“Something Deena sent me.”

He stared for another moment before returning to his phone. I looked back out the window, biting my lip. Monday suddenly felt very far away.

And for the first time in three years, I wasn’t returning home wondering when my husband would come to my bed.

I was wondering when I could return to someone else’s.

My Angel. My mysterious, dangerous secret. And God help me…I couldn’t fucking wait.