THE SECOND BETRAYAL
Dante
12 years later
Iheld Carla’s hand, pressed my lips against her knuckles. Her skin was ashen, her breathing labored, pained… I raised my eyes, found her watching me with tired, sad eyes. “I’m sorry I could never give you children.”
I shook my head, touched her cheek and pressed a kiss to her dry lips. “Carla, nothing of this matters.”
“This is all a part of God’s plan, my love.”
I didn’t say anything. In all the years, Carla’s faith had never rubbed off on me, no matter how hard she’d tried. I wasn’t a believer, now less than ever. If there was a God and this was his plan, I’d never forgive him.
“Don’t… don’t be angry. Don’t let it consume you.”
I’d have given her the world. But this wasn’t something I could promise. Anger was already boiling in my chest, waiting to spill forth.
“Will you pray with me?”
I cupped her hands, nodding and lowered my head. Carla’s whispered prayers bounced off my rising despair. Carla was everything good in my life. She contrasted me. Without her… what would I become?
* * *
The morphine wasn’t strong enough to make Carla’s waking hours bearable—unless the doctors gave her so much that her state was almost comatose.
I held her hand as she whimpered, her face sunken in completely. Few of my enemies had suffered under my torture as much as Carla did in the last days of her life. It wasn’t fair. Nothing could make me believe otherwise.
“I know suicide is sin, but I want this to be over. I just want it to stop.” She swallowed. “I can’t… take anymore.”
I froze. I’d known it was only a matter of time before we’d have to say goodbye, but Carla’s words threw the stark reality of it into my face.
I kissed her hand. “It’s not really suicide if death comes through my hand, my love.”
“Dante—”
“I’ve done worse.” That was a lie. This would break the last human part in me, but if anyone was worth that sacrifice, it was Carla.
“Are you sure?” In the past she would have argued with me, recited Bible passages, appealed to the good in me. That she didn’t even try showed how bad it was.
I nodded.
“You can shoot me. That’s quick and easy for you.”
Nothing about this would be easy. And I’d never disgrace Carla by killing her like I would a goddamn traitor. “Don’t worry about it. Tomorrow everything will be over and you’ll be at a better place.”
I didn’t believe in Heaven or Hell. If there was, our goodbye would be eternal.
* * *
That evening was the last I spent with Carla.
When I stepped up to the bed, Carla smiled weakly. She knew what I was about to do and relief shone in her eyes. I hadn’t discussed the details with her. She’d always preferred to stay in the dark regarding the brutal sides of life. I reached into my pant pocket and pulled out the syringe with the insulin. I lay down on the bed beside Carla and stroked a few strands of her soft hair. Streaks of gray mingled in it, like the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, they were marks of her battle against this demonic sickness. A battle she’d lost. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’ll find new happiness.”
I didn’t say anything because every word would have either made Carla sad or been a lie.
With shaking hands, I prepared the syringe. Hands that were always steady no matter what happened. Not now. “I love you, Dante.”
I swallowed. “And I love you, will always only love you, Carla.”
She squeezed my hand with sad eyes then gave a small nod.
Looking into her eyes, I pushed the syringe into her arm. Before I injected her, I cradled her in my arms and kissed her once more. Seconds after the injection, Carla lost consciousness and as I held her in my arms, her breathing stopped.
I kept holding her even as she became cold, even as the silence in the room echoed loudly in my head. Night fell outside and then it became light again, and I still cradled her in my arms. Steps sounded in the house. Slowly, I slid my arm out from under her body and put her head down on the pillow. After I pulled out the syringe and thrust it into the bin, I kissed her eyelids and stood.
I couldn’t look away from her lifeless body, even though the sight of it crushed my heart.
“Master?” Zita called, and for a moment I considered sending her away so I could be alone with Carla’s body and my sorrow, but I couldn’t hide like this forever. I couldn’t do what I wanted—lay down beside my wife again and wait for death to claim me as well. Life needed to go on. I wasn’t sure how it could though.
* * *
Ines squeezed my hand under the table as she kept on her conversation with Mother. I didn’t react to her attempt at consoling me, instead I excused myself and headed for the gardens, needing to get away from all the people who pretended they cared about Carla’s death when all they wanted was to get into my good graces, knowing it was only a matter of time before I’d take over as the Boss officially from my father as well.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this angry but without an outlet to release my emotions. Carla’s death had been like a cluster bomb and since then my insides felt frayed, torn, irrevocably damaged. My sorrow hadn’t diminished, if possible it had grown in the days since I’d killed her and with it my fury, my need to share this agony the only way I could, by inflicting it on others.
Steps raised my protective walls but I didn’t have to mask my face into one of calm, it always was. My muscles seemed perfectly frozen even as my insides burnt with emotions that threatened to unravel me and with it possibly the Outfit.
Pietro stopped beside me, not saying a word and stared up at the night sky like I did. After a couple of minutes, he slanted me a look. “We’ll stay for a week. Your mother is happy to have the twins around and Ines thought it would do you good to have family close by.”
I gave a terse nod.
“Dante,” Pietro said quietly, angling his body toward me and I knew his words wouldn’t do what they were intended to do even before he spoke them. “If you need someone to talk, you know you can come to me. You don’t have to bear this loss by yourself.”
One hand curled to a fist at my side, I nodded again, and Pietro finally retreated.
The night sky seemed endless and foreboding tonight. I wanted to believe Carla was up there somewhere, looking down at me. Maybe it would have offered me a flicker of consolation if I believed in an existence after death. I didn’t, and consolation was unreachable. The images of Carla’s lifeless body, of her casket being lowered into the dank soil slithered through my mind like poisonous snakes.
* * *