Alle Kapitel von Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi: Kapitel 41 – Kapitel 50

I didn’t have time to move.I didn’t have time to ask, familiar how, Rafael? Familiar like cheap déjà vu because you just kissed a woman who clearly wanted to kick you into the fountain, or familiar like your brain had started digging up those six buried years with a teaspoon and a level of confidence no piece of cutlery had any right to possess?The applause erupted, and everyone stood.Chairs shifted across the grass with a sound far too polite for what had just happened. To the right of the altar, the Ricciardi family’s private camera moved smoothly to follow us. It was for private use, the family archive, internal documentation, a video that might one day be played at an anniversary dinner if everyone lost their minds and electricity had not yet been invented to save us.I smiled immediately because my body had been trained by events, family, and trauma to perform certain functions when the world collapsed: chin up, shoulders down, lips curved, eyes dry, don’t kill anyone before d

I shoved his chest until he stepped back. “You’re still an idiot.”“And you’re still beautiful. God distributes blessings very unfairly.”“I’m going to tell Rafael what you said.”“He won’t be surprised. He’s known I hated him since I learned how to talk.”A small but firm hand smacked Xander’s arm. “Move.”Iris appeared behind him.The last time I saw her, she was fifteen and crying in the Lake Como bathroom because Rafael had forbidden her from going to a classmate’s party. I helped her climb out the window.Not my finest moment as a sister-in-law.But her black hair was still the same, long and sleek down to her waist. Her face was more mature now, with a soft jawline, pale gray eyes, pink lips, and a light green dress that made her look sweet until she opened her mouth and threatened Xander with social death.She shoved her brother again. “You’re using all the air.”“I’m the favorite child.”“You’re the reason this family has a therapist.”Xander placed a hand over his chest. “Cru

A flight attendant came over and offered me food. I declined. She offered wine.I almost said yes, then remembered I had to go home to two four-year-olds who believed their mother could smell a lie from the kitchen.“Just water.”“You barely ate.” Rafael closed his tablet.“I ate.”“You moved the salmon around your plate for two hours.”I looked at him. “Were you watching me?”“I was sitting beside you.”“That isn’t an answer.”“It’s enough of one.”The flight attendant placed the water in front of me and walked away with the speed of a woman who had already felt the temperature in the cabin drop three degrees.I picked up the glass. “Don’t start acting like a husband.”Rafael leaned back. “I am your husband.”“Administrative husband.”“That isn’t a thing.”“It is now. Like a project firewall. Industries evolve.”His gaze stayed on me for several seconds before returning to the tablet.The jet took off.Los Angeles shrank beneath us, the entire city turning into a grid of lights and r

By eight in the morning, I had already eaten two arepas, half an avocado, and one bad decision shaped like leftover Black Forest cake.Sundays moved slowly in my house. No office alarms, no blazers, no staff calling while using the word urgent about flowers. Fog still clung to the kitchen windows. The waves sounded far behind the house, heavy and steady, while the dining table looked like the scene of a family breakfast crime.Gabby sat in her chair wearing pink pajamas and a glitter crown because apparently the monarchy didn’t observe weekends. She was cutting her pancake into shapes she claimed represented family members.The largest piece was her.The slightly smaller piece was me.The burnt piece at the edge of the plate was Al.“That’s not me,” Al said, hugging the whale shark in his lap. His dinosaur pajamas were backward again. “I’m handsome.”“That’s you because you’re burned inside,” Gabby said.Al frowned. “Mami.”“Don’t involve me.”Kendra sat across from them with both han

“No automatic extension,” I said.“None.”“No clause requiring us to live together for optics.”“None.”“A maximum of two formal events each month.”“It’s already written.”“Informal appearances have to be approved seven days in advance.”“Three days.”“Five.”“Four.”I narrowed my eyes. “So you can bargain.”“For reasonable things.”“Your mouth needs a license.”“Four days.”“Fine. No photos of the children. Not even in the background.”“Already covered.”“I decide whether an event is safe for them.”“They are not required to attend any event.”“The children’s funds are irrevocable and do not depend on whether I complete the full six months.”Rafael went quiet for a moment. “That wasn’t part of the original agreement.”“It is now.”“What if you breach without cause?”“They still don’t get punished for adult problems.”His gaze dropped to the annex, then returned to my face. “Fine.”So quickly.I didn’t know why that made my chest feel tighter than it would have if he’d argued.I reac