by Serena Light
"Baby, it's winters,"
"Salvatore can wait, now it's time to eat, soft ice cream,"
"Really? I'm beneath soft ice-cream? Wow,"
Nicole couldn't help the laugh that escaped her as she threw her hands around his neck, hugging him close as he wrapped his arms around her waist; both of them silently swaying to the song that began to play automatically.
"I know you're mad at me, and you have every right to be," Nicole swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling deprived of his warmth and touch. "But please...just hold me without hating me,"
"Baby, I don't hate you. I could never hate you," Salvatore assured as she groaned at the way his hold tightened around her, flushing their bodies together. "And I'm not even mad anymore, I understand why you did what you did, and I'm sorry for pushing you to that limit,"
Exhaling shakily, his wife buried her face into his chest as they both stood in the middle of their bedroom, holding each other and swaying to the outlandish music that followed every successive song that played.
She gave him a soft smile before leading him to the bed, both of them lying down in each other's arms and silently listening to the music playing.
It wasn't until a knock sounded on the bedroom door did they pull away.
Going to attend to the visitor, Salvatore pulled open the door, nodding at the guard standing before him.
"Sir, Mr. Lombardi asks to speak to you alone,"
Nodding, he went back to the room telling his wife he would be back in a couple of minutes. Making his way down the stairs, he entered to see his father in law standing uncomfortably with a file in hand.
"Mr. Lombardi," Salvatore greeted, making his way towards the other side of the table. "Please take a seat," He gestured to the seat behind him as he settled down, watching the older man remained standing.
"There is no need for that, I won't take much of your time," He spoke and slid a piece of paper over to him, Salvatore looking down at the document and skimming through the contents. "My Mafia is yours,"
Not even looking up, or looking remotely surprised, the Mafia Boss grabbed a pen from his stationary and circled a passage on the page, turning it around and sliding it back to the older man, tapping the circled lines.
"The Mafia would be handed over to Party A - i.e. me – In the events of the death of Party B – you." He leaned back in his seat, gently swiveling. "And given that you're a man of your word, I can only assume that you plan to take your life tonight, Mr. Lombardi,"
"Either way, I don't want to do this anymore, the Mafia is yours," He stated and began walking away, halting when Salvatore spoke up.
"I'm sorry but I can't let you do that, dad," He stated with a shrug and stood from his place. "I will lock you in chains myself if I have to,"
"I want that ambitious Mafia boss I met a year ago, not my son-in-law!" He whirled around at him and made his way back, slamming his hands on the table in his anger, glaring at the unperturbed expression across the taller man's face.
"Unfortunately for you, they're both the same person," Salvatore stated calmly, noticing the anger burning in his eyes. "I understand you just lost your wife and it hurts,"
Mr. Lombardi scoffed.
"But taking your life is not the solution," He continued. "Emotions aren't a weakness, sir, they are what makes you human,"
"Then what is the solution?! Huh?" He demanded in anger. "Nothing will bring back my Rhea!"
"Would you rather that your daughter suffers the loss of not only her mother but her father as well, that too within days of one another without having dealt with the fresh wound?" Salvatore asked calmly. "Is that how much you love her?"
Mr. Lombardi hissed through gritted teeth and clutched at his head, wanting him to see that he didn't want to live without his wife.
"Then you tell me what I should do?" He choked out, collapsing in the seat with tears streaming down his face. "You clearly know a lot better than me, you tell me what I should do,"
Sighing, Salvatore ran a hand through his hair and looked down at his watch before settling down and began talking to the man before him. Without realizing he had spent the entire night talking the man out of killing himself, putting up with his anger tantrums and his crying and his hysteria until he finally suggested that Mr. Lombardi spend just three days in the estate and take time to himself and allow himself to feel every ounce of grief in him, because there was no way he could deal with the pain without experiencing it to the fullest, knowing it would be hard, but that there was no other way to get past it.
The sun had begun rising when he made his way back upstairs, opening his bedroom door he found his wife sitting on the bed, having changed out of her dress and replaced it for a long-sleeved shirt and trousers, a glass of scotch in hand. Sighing, Salvatore removed the waistcoat and his shoes and decided it was time to call it a night.
"You know," Nicole sniffled from her place on the bed, not looking at him. "A part of me wants to blame you for everything,"
Exhaling quietly, Salvatore swallowed the dryness in his mouth, having expected something like this, but had hoped that maybe it wouldn't happen. Without saying anything, he made his way over to her and poured himself a drink, slowly sipping it before settling down on the edge of the bed.
"I thought you would," He spoke quietly. "It's very natural to want to blame someone for things happening, you know...like Alessio did," He sipped the drink slowly, waiting for the inevitable.
"Because in my mind, it's like...if you hadn't been so pissed off about the pills and if you hadn't sent me away, my mom still might have been killed, but then I wouldn't have this guilt for not having done anything," Nicole downed the remainder of her drink. "And now I don't understand what I should do,"
"If..." Salvatore trailed running a hand over his face. "If you begin to hate me because of this, then the only plausible course of action is a divorce...because I have a feeling that you're going to hate me..."
"And the reason I reacted the way that I did..." He cleared his throat and refilled his glass, dreading having to relive everything. "Is because of the fact that this has happened before."
Nicole looked at him in confusion, not understanding what he meant.
"I was...uh...17, I think I was 17," He rubbed his trembling fingers over his forehead. "My then best friend, Paolo...he uh...spiked my apple juice and had me kidnapped and tortured..."
"They would...they would lock me up in a freezer and I developed claustrophobia because of it...They beat me to a bloody pulp, I had so many broken bones that I couldn't stand...I was starved and cut and bruised...they tortured me because Paolo paid them to because he believed we had a hand in his father's assassination." He downed the drink in one go, curling his fingers into a fist to stop the shaking. "We had nothing to do with his father's death and Stephen helped my family find me by tracking my phone which was off, he somehow managed to override the system and turn it on and tracked my location through that...and then Paolo had acted like he had been worried about me and was so concerned but I knew that he had it done, I heard the guys talking and I knew..."
"And...And when you put those pills in my milk, even though you were doing it for a good reason...because you cared about me...it just...it just brought back all those memories I had spent years repressing..." His voice cracked before he cleared his throat and stood up from his place. "So...that's why I reacted that way...and I understand if you want to hate me for it...and..." He let out an exhale before turning back to see his wife looking at him silently.
"I...uh...I think it’s best that we spend some time on our own," He nodded to his own words and began making his way to the door.
"Salvatore-" Nicole finally found her voice, but he had already left the room.
Walking down the hallway, he stopped at the door before him and knocked on the wooden structure before pushing it open and stepping into the dimly lit room, Stephen sitting up in bed as he entered and noticed the way he looked.
"Come on, you need some
sleep," His best friend beckoned him forward as the Mafia Boss settled on the bed, Stephan not asking what happened and Salvatore didn't provide an explanation as he snuggled into the pillow.
The American draped the covers over him before mushing the hair on the back of his head, noticing the way he struggled to catch his breath.
"Everything will work out, Salvi," Stephan assured him. "I promise you,"
Chapter XXXVIII: Separation
It had been over a week since Rhea's funeral, and since that day, neither Nicole nor Salvatore slept in the same room, the mafia boss waiting for her verdict. He had his wife sleep in their bedroom while he had initially slept in Stephen's room until the American went back to his apartment and he shifted onto the recliner in the twin's nursery. Both husband and wife didn't talk to each other, no matter how much the Mafia Boss wanted to, he knew she needed her time and space after everything that happened.
A part of Nicole still blamed Salvatore, and his words would constantly be swimming through her mind. How her drugging him behind his back triggered unpleasant memories, and how if she did begin to hate him, the only plausible solution was a divorce and she spent entire days just lying in bed and not doing anything.
And she didn't know if she wanted to separate from him...
Salvatore stood dressed in navy blue dress pants with a white button-up who's sleeves he had rolled back to dress the two toddlers in front of him. Pulling the sweater down on Marina's head as he played peek-a-boo, having her giggle before he fit her feet into her shoes, placing a kiss on her nose as she squirmed.
"Okay, okay! We're done," He assured and lowered her onto the floor as she went and ran to her twin brother, Salvatore watching with a chuckle as Irene and Aurora peeked their head inside from the door. "Hey there princess," He greeted with a tilted head as they grinned and walked inside, instantly going to him as he hugged the two.
"Uncle Salvi," Irene looked up at him. "Grandpa is calling you,"
"Alright, let's go see what grandpa is saying," Salvatore kissed her cheek as he ushered the two towards the door, picking up Marina in his arms before giving his finger to Michele who walked out after his two older cousins.
The Mafia Boss stepped out of the nursery, momentarily stopping in the hallway and looking back at the door of his bedroom before sighing and making his way down the two flight of stairs.
Putting the two toddlers on the floor, he watched them shriek in joy and run towards his parents, both Rosalie and Arcangelo delighted to see them before lifting them up as Irene walked over to her grandfather and Aurora to her grandmother. Salvatore noticed that his whole family was sitting at the dining table with breakfast set and their coffees waiting.
Walking into the kitchen, he ordered the maids to take breakfast up to Nicole before he went and settled down at the head of the table. Letting his parents put the twins in their high chairs on either side of him before they went and settled down as well, everyone digging in.
"Salvatore," Rosalie called out as he was taking a sip of his coffee. "Please tell us what happened between you and Nicole,"
Everyone knew that something happened, but none of them knew exactly what happened.
Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair before noticing how the jam was dripping off Michele's biscuit and instantly caught it on his finger before feeding it to him.
"I think we might be getting a divorce," He revealed as Marco choked on his coffee and Arcangelo stopped chewing, everyone else staring at him in shock. "She blames me for the death of Rhea-"
"-It's not your fault!" Angelica cried out in indignation. "It's because of this vendetta that this happened! Is she serious-?"
"Angelica," Arsenio calmed her down. "Let's listen to Salvatore first,"
"I told her that it was very natural to want to blame someone, and I told her that if she begins to hate me for this, then the only plausible solution would be a divorce. There is nothing forcing us to stay together, we don't have kids, so she can get separated if she begins to hate me for Rhea's death,"
"That is unfair," Marco shook his head. "I thought she was smarter than that,"
"It's alright," Salvatore tried to assure them with a weak smile, but all of them could see how much that prospect terrified him, how afraid he was of losing his wife. "I'm not going to force her to love me when she doesn't,"
"Oh, baby," Rosalie breathed out and walked over to her son, hugging his head to her chest as he exhaled shakily, trying to get his bearings together.
Later that day, Salvatore found himself baking cookies with the girls as the twins were napping in their nursery, the baby monitor clipped to his waistband and relief flooding him to know they were sleeping soundly since the two hadn't been able to rest for the past two nights.
"This is the last batch," Salvatore slid the last tray into the oven and turned around to find the two girls mischievously grinning up at him. "What?" He narrowed his eyes at them.
Gasping in mock shock when they both brought out a cookie from behind their backs and bit into it.
"Traitors!" He exclaimed and enveloped them in his arms, taking a bite out of one before eating the other one, both the girls giggling and laughing in his arms, only stopping his tickling attack when a maid entered and stood with her head bowed to Salvatore. "Kindly take lunch up to Nicole," He directed the order towards her as she nodded and went to prepare a plate for her.
The Mafia Boss spent the rest of the day working as Angelica and Arsenio insisted they would look after the twins. The members of his family coming to him one by one and talking about the current situation with Nicole, and he spent most of his day talking to his family about it, telling them that he doesn't want the divorce, but this blame she had put on him was just going to poison them.
"Then fight for her!" Arsenio had burst.
"How?" Salvatore demanded in retaliation, his eldest brother falling silent. "I have been giving her the space she needs, I laid myself bare in front of her by sharing my darkest nightmare, and I am not forcing her into anything, what more can I do?"
The entire day had taken such a huge toll on him that he was exhausted by 7 p.m., falling asleep with one of the twins on his chest as he had been putting them to bed.
Nicole slowly cracked open the door, momentarily surprised to see her husband asleep in the recliner with his head lolling to the side and the baby asleep on his chest, the other one sound asleep in his cot. Making her way forward, she fixed the blanket over Michele's body before moving towards where her husband lay sleeping, knowing that if she tried to lift the girl up, he would be awake.
Sighing in defeat she looked for the blanket to drape over the two, finding it across the room and over the sofa. Making her way over to it, she picked up the fleece blanket before turning around, jumping back in surprise to find Salvatore awake and standing by the baby's cot, slowly lowering her into it before patting her chest when she gave a startled jump and settled her down.
"You don't have to worry yourself about them," He spoke in a soft voice, his words directed to her. "You just take care of yourself, everything else is taken care of,"
Nicole silently looked at him, putting the fleece blanket down before looking at the door, contemplating that she leave, but for some unknown reason, she found herself rooted in place, watching as Salvatore untucked his shirt and unbuttoned it.
"Salvatore," Nicole finally spoke as he pulled it off his shoulders, humming in confirmation. "I wanted to talk to you," She exhaled as he pulled on the t-shirt lying at the back of the recliner, her husband freezing for a moment at the words.
"Please just say it," He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself so that he could prepare himself for the inevitable. "Just...say it," Salvatore found himself bracing the edge of the cot and trying to silence the thoughts running amok in his head.
"Say what?" She looked at him in confusion.
"That you hate me, and that you blame me for your mom's death, and that you want a divorce,"
Nicole swallowed
at his words, knowing that he was preparing himself for the worst.
"I don't know," She finally managed to say, her husband exhaling and bracing himself.
"Please know..." He trailed in a quiet voice. "I will respect whatever decision you make, but just...tell me now so that I am not constantly living with this fear of you leaving me. If you are leaving me then leave, if not, then tell me, please Nicole,"
"I need time..." She wrapped her arms around herself, resisting the impulse to run.
"I'm sorry, Nicole," Salvatore looked up at her with his eyes bloodshot as he swallowed the lump in his throat. "I know you just lost your mom, but I didn't kill her. I wasn't the one who pulled the trigger, it was Jayson. If you leave me, baby, he wins. This is exactly what he wants, to tear us apart, to set us up against each other, and...I don't want to lose you too, Nicole...I don't want our marriage to end." He exhaled shakily and made his way across the room, taking hold of her hands in his and holding them to his chest.
"I don't want to give up, Nicole." He shook his head, wanting her to see. "I know it is hard right now, but I want to fight through it. I want to wake up every morning with you beside me even if it means that I have to go to war for it. I will do everything that I have to to be with you, baby, I don't want to give up on you, on us. I want-I know we can pull through this...just give me a chance to prove it to you, please,"
Nicole looked up at him, seeing his eyes moist with tears, but her breath got knocked out of her lungs to see the burning determination reflected in his blue orbs in the dim lighting of the nursery. She wanted to say something, she wanted to do something, but all she felt at that moment was the lump growing in her throat as the tears prickled her eyes. Pulling her hands away from him, she left the nursery and ran to their own room, slamming the door and pressing her back to it as the sobs choked her, the tears streaming down her face as she slid to the floor, leaving Salvatore to stand alone in the center of the nursery with the heels of his palms pressed to his eyes.
It had been two weeks to that night, and Salvatore did his best to fight for them, fight for her, trying to make her see that a separation is not the answer that he's not the one who killed Rhea. But despite all his efforts, Nicole didn't understand what she should do.