Speaking Secrets Right In Front Of Me
"Tesoro, are you coming soon? I'm waiting for you at our usual place."
Lorenzo Gallo was in his study when he received the voice message. It was in a Sicilian dialect. With his back to me, a delighted grin spread across his face. He responded in the same dialect, "Of course, cara. I love you."
I had been drowsy, but his words sent a chill down my spine, jolting me fully awake.
The sweet voice on the other end of the line cooed again. "Your wife won't find out, will she?"
"I'm talking to you right in front of her now," Lorenzo chuckled softly. "We're speaking Sicilian. She doesn't understand a word."
A sharp pain lanced through my chest. So, he’d never loved me. He’d never even truly known me. He thought I was just a trophy wife, someone to keep his house warm; he had no idea I'd spent two full years living in Palermo, Sicily.
Swallowing the bile of grief and heartbreak, I stroked my belly. Then, I scheduled an abortion.