“We need to stay together,” I said.
I knew he wouldn’t agree. I knew my demand was the first salvo in a series of shots meant to keep us together, and I knew there would be a fight. When he just smiled at me as if I’d not alarmed him but charmed him, I knew something was wrong.
A car pulled up outside.
“That’s Zo,” Antonio said without even looking out the window.
Antonio leaned into me. I wasn’t supposed to touch him. I was supposed to shun his body, but I already failed when I slept on top of him and let the pace of his breathing soothe me to sleep. So there was no harm in letting him put his arms around me. I could pretend nothing had changed. Valentina was dead, and she’d stayed gentle forever. A memory of some past time, some past love of a man who didn’t exist anymore. I let him kiss my neck because she was gone and he was mine alone.
The hug lasted two seconds before Zo knocked.
Antonio peeked out the window and opened the door immediately.
Zo stood there with a white plastic bag. “Good morning.”
“Buon giorno,” Antonio replied, taking the bag and giving it to me. “Your wish for a toothbrush has been granted.”
“Lorenzo, I think I love you.” I hugged him hard.
He patted my back noncommittally, and when I looked at Antonio, I knew why.
“I’m going to give these roses a rest,” I said and dashed to the bathroom to run the brush over my teeth.
There was still glass all over the floor. I stepped carefully onto the overturned rug.
“I’ll have to pay your sister for the window,” Antonio said as he closed the door behind him.
I ripped open the packaging on two toothbrushes. “Better do it before she sends a collections agency for you. Oh, he got the cinnamon flavor. I like that.” I handed him the blue brush and loaded it.
“I want you to consider something,” he said before putting the toothbrush in his mouth.
I’d never seen him do a simple cosmetic chore. He’d always been this effortlessly perfect man. Invulnerable. Capable. He could solve anything. Even during the ridiculous ritual of toothbrushing, he looked as though nothing could touch him. I think I stared at him too long, brushing the enamel off my teeth.
He spit. I spit. Like normal, whole people, neither of whom was committed to anyone else. I got that nagging feeling of incompleteness, and I chased it away when I wiped my mouth. I had no time to feel sorry for myself.
“What am I considering?” I took the brushes and wrapped them back in the plastic bag.
“Staying here for a few hours. Maybe until tonight.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I’ll have a TV sent. Books. Anything you want. And someone will come to watch you.”
My initial reaction was rage, then insult, then a stew of annoyance, sadness, dismissal, and disgust. I ran my fingers through my hair, making sure the mirror showed nothing of my messy emotions and all the neat and proper thoughtfulness I wanted to project. He caught my stare in the mirror, and I smiled at him.
“Well?” he said. “I won’t be too long. I can take care of this today. In and out. Easy. Then I’m going to get Valentina and send her home.”
“What about your son?”
“I won’t turn my back on him, but he’s not safe here.”
“He might need a father.” I kept my face completely straight when Antonio broke our gaze. I wasn’t even half done. “And I mean, you know, one who’s alive. One who can teach him to stay out of trouble in Naples.”