All Chapters of Innocence Interrupted - A Mafia Story: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

RafaelI push the little plate aside and look at Madeleine. “You pick one,” I say. “I like all of them.”Her eyes haunt me. She’s practically begging me to forgive her, and it’s hard not to crack under the pressure. “No.” She shakes her head. “The cake is the one thing you wanted to do.”“Fine. The Italian Cream,” I end the conversation right then and there. I cannot take one more argument.She perks up and smiles, but I quickly crush her excitement with a cold look.“Is something going on between you two?” Angelica asks and looks from me to Madeleine.I don’t take my eyes off Maddie when I say, “No. It’s just been a hell of a week.”The little old woman, Etta Bianci, the youngest granddaughter of the original baker, pretends she can't hear us while she writes down the order. Unlike Angelica, she has picked up on the tension between me and Madeleine, but she knows better than to say anything about it.“There has to be enough cake for two-hundred-and-fifty people,” Angelica declares.

RafaelWith a start I wake up. I didn’t dream. At least, I don’t think I did, but something woke me.Swallowing hard, I turn my head to look at Madeleine, but she’s not here. Her side of the bed is empty and already cold.The AC hums softly, cooling the room, but I’m covered in sweat. Groaning softly, I rest the back of my hand on my forehead and listen for anything that sounds off, but there’s nothing apart from a quiet so deep and profound that it resonates in my soul.That’s what woke me.The silence.I’ve grown used to their presence. The way they breathe and move. Betsy’s giggles as Madeleine twirls her around or reads her a story. Ethel's calm, even voice, warning them that it's almost time to do this that or the other.Groaning softly, I roll over and check the time on my phone.It’s way past one. I overslept by four hours.I swing my legs off the bed and cradle my head in my hands. I have to do it today. Bruce has to go, and I can't afford any distraction. He’s taking up spa

MadeleineBetsy’s at one of her doctor’s appointment, and I haven’t been able to reach Ethel all afternoon. I'm home alone,and out of sheer boredom, I decided to make supper, trying one of my grandmother’s almost forgotten pasta recipes.Smiling, I look up when Rafael enters the apartment, but I feel the grin fall from my face. He's still in a bad mood, carrying around that thunder cloud that's been hanging over his head for days now. I expect him to start rumbling at any moment - like a brewing storm.He doesn’t say a word as he walks past me and goes up the stairs to the bedroom. He was almost nice when he called earlier, and when he kissed me goodnight last night, I thought he was ready to move on, but I guess I was wrong. He's still punishing me.It makes the visit to the gynaecologist feel like a wasted trip. I went through all that discomfort to get birth control for nothing. I’m going to be stuck in a loveless, sexless marriage until the day I die.I turn my music louder and b

RafaelIt’s good to be home. Sort of.The last few weeks have flown by. Angelica has been at my house every day to discuss wedding plans with Madeleine, and we have had almost no time to ourselves. Two days out, and the place is a hive of activity. Caterers took over my kitchen, decorators invaded my garden, landscapers moved Betsy’s playset, someone’s putting up a marquis tent the size of a palace, and I have to keep reminding myself to watch my language with all these strangers around.Betsy isn’t taking any of the activity too well. She’s upset because they moved her playset, she’s upset because there’s always people in the kitchen, she’s upset because the tent is in her way and she can’t see the lake. I understand the kid. There are days when I want to throw a tantrum that will bring the house down too.The end result is that Ethel or Madeleine keeps her away from the house as long as possible every day, which pisses Angelica off no end.I should have considered that the place w

MadeleineThese last few weeks have been nothing short of hell.Angelica is nice, but overbearing, and I am starting to resent her presence in what I’m starting to think of as my house. The wedding she’s planning isn’t mine. It’s hers. I thought I put my stamp on the wedding when I chose sunflower bouquets for the tables, but she went behind my back and changed it to lilies. She cancelled the band I chose and replaced it with some kind of big swing band. The only thing she kept was the cake - and I’m sure that’s only because Rafael chose it.Maybe if I cared more about having a wedding with my two-hundred-and-fifty odd closest friends and relatives I’ve never met, I would have given more of a shit. I don’t. It’s a party for appearances, not a celebration of love.At least she didn’t change my dress. I went for the last fitting yesterday, and today they delivered it. The dress is still as beautiful as it was on the day I fitted it, and the long veil is perfect. I chose a small tiara