Goodbye, Mafia Ex-Boyfriend

I woke up very early the next morning.

I walked downstairs and saw Franco walking through the door.

"Siena, why are you up so early. You should sleep more."

I looked at him.

My face showed absolutely nothing.

My pathetic heart was still waiting for him to explain.

His tailored shirt was wrinkled.

He smelled like stale smoke and cheap cherry perfume.

I would have lost my mind in the past.

I did not do that today.

"I am sorry Siena. The shootout in the South Side took all night. I did not want to wake you up so I stayed at the club."

He was completely used to apologizing.

He would rather apologize than explain.

He assumed I did not read the underground intelligence.

I decided to play dead.

I was going to leave anyway.

I could never wake a person who was pretending to be asleep.

"It is fine."

"Look Siena. I brought you the pastrami sandwich from that deli you love. I had my guys wait in line for it. The syndicate is quiet today. I will stay home and keep you company."

I felt a wave of impatience.

"I have no appetite."

"Are you throwing a tantrum again."

He had no intention of explaining himself.

He chose to blame me instead.

"Siena, where is your cross."

He grabbed my wrist.

"What cross."

I sounded entirely indifferent.

"The one you always wear on your neck. You said you would never..."

"Oh, that. I saw a new design at the boutique recently. I am planning to replace it."

Franco panicked when he noticed the necklace was gone.

What was he panicking about.

Was he afraid I would leave.

Or was he feeling guilty.

That cross was a gift from seven years ago.

He bought it with the money he won in an underground boxing ring for my birthday.

It was cheap.

But it was the most precious thing in the world to us back then.

He told me he would replace it with a massive diamond the day he became Underboss.

I believed him.

I wore it every single day for seven years.

My mind drifted back to that night of bullets and rain.

Franco was covered in blood.

He was holding a cheap silver cross.

"Siena, promise me you will wait seven years. I know you do not despise me but I despise myself. I have nothing right now. I struggle just to keep you safe. Trust me. I will climb to the top of the Moretti family in seven years. I will marry you with honor and give you the grandest wedding."

"Okay."

The Siena from seven years ago accepted it with a heart full of joy.

She accepted his cross.

That loop lasted seven whole years.

I lived inside the illusion Franco spun for me.

I waited for the day he took power so I could be his rightful wife.

It did not matter how much I loved him anymore.

I was no longer the Siena from seven years ago.

Franco's phone buzzed.

The caller ID read Port Authority Contact.

Panic flashed through his eyes.

He quickly declined the call.

"What is wrong."

I pretended not to care.

"Nothing. The smuggling route contacts keep demanding a higher cut."

"That is business. Why did you hang up."

The phone rang again.

"Just answer it. Syndicate business is more important. I will look around on my own."

"No. I said I would spend the day with you. I am staying right here."

The caller tried several more times.

He cut off every single one.

A text message chimed.

I did not lift my eyes.

I knew it was not a port authority contact.

It was definitely the dancer he kept in the Lower East Side.

"Siena, I need to return a call."

"Okay."

He took his phone and walked to the corner.

I could not resist looking back at him.

I rarely saw Franco smiling with such genuine delight.