While I Lost Everything, He Saved Her Dog

For once, the composure Dante always wore slipped, and something close to panic crossed his face.

"It's not what you think."

"Vittoria was in a bad way that night. One of the dogs nearly died whelping, so I took her out to settle her nerves. She drank too much, and I was only driving her home. That's all."

His voice softened noticeably as he spoke.

"All right. Let's not drag this up again."

"I'll come with you to the next checkup at the clinic. Okay?"

Something in me almost wanted to laugh.

All these years, he had done this every single time.

A flimsy explanation full of holes, followed by some weightless promise.

As if all he had to do was say the words, and I would choose to believe him the way I always had.

But Dante.

There would be no more checkups.

Our child was already gone.

I lifted my eyes to him, my voice flat and unmoved.

"There's no need."

"Dante, let's sever the union."

The air went silent all at once.

He froze for a beat, then his face darkened.

"Adriana, do all you people who spend your lives chasing whispers love making things bigger than they are?"

"I already explained. It was just an accident."

"You see me drive Vittoria home, and now you want to dissolve everything between us?"

"Is it really worth it?"

His voice grew colder.

By the end, there was even anger in it.

"And what kind of position are you in right now? Don't you know that yourself?"

"You walked away from the network years ago, and now you're just shuffling papers in the back rooms, arranging schedules nobody notices."

"You're about to turn thirty, and you're carrying a child."

"Besides me, who else would have you?"

"I'm run off my feet keeping men alive every day to keep this household standing, not to come home and put up with you making a scene over nothing!"

With that, he snatched up his car keys and headed for the door.

As if staying one more minute would be a waste of his time.

But as he passed the entryway, his steps suddenly stopped.

His gaze fell on the corner of a document poking out of my bag.

The bold black words stood out sharply.

Death certificate.

His brow furrowed slightly.

"Who died?"

He reached out, meaning to pull it free for a look.

But in the next second, his phone rang.

The call had barely connected before Vittoria's tearful voice spilled out.

"Dante, please come quick."

"One of the puppies seems to have choked on its milk. There are still people in the club, and I can't handle everything alone."

"What if it dies? I'm so scared…"

His expression changed in an instant.

Every bit of his attention from a moment ago was wiped clean away.

"Don't cry."

"I'm coming right now."

He didn't even glance at me again.

He didn't ask another word about that death certificate.

He just turned and hurried out of the house.

The heavy slam of the front door reached me.

The whole place sank back into silence.

I stood where I was for a long time.

And suddenly it felt pitiful.

If only he had been willing to stay one more minute.

Maybe he would have known.

The ones who died were not strangers.

They were my parents.

They were his father-in-law and mother-in-law too.

But in his eyes, their lives and deaths counted for less, in the end, than a puppy choking on its milk.

I don't know how long passed.

My gaze drifted to the closed study door at the end of the hall.

Dante had never allowed me inside.

He said there were important papers in there, the kind that kept men out of the ground.

But today he'd left in too much of a rush.

He had even forgotten to lock the door.

As if pulled by something, I pushed it open.

The study was as tidy as ever.

But when my eyes landed on the desk, my heart clenched hard.

A worn old card had been wedged under one leg of the desk.

I walked over and pulled it out.

It was a press credential.

My credential.

The thing I had once treasured more than anything, back when I ran information for the Family and no door stayed closed to me.

In that instant, a flood of memories rushed back.

Back then, I had been the most promising young set of eyes the network had.

It was my first time working a mark on my own.

The subject was a respected old man, held in high regard within his field, a man the whole field watched and no one could reach.

The old man was difficult, and he turned me away at the door for days on end.

To land him, I kept watch for a full week.

In the end, between sleepless nights and low blood sugar, I collapsed in the garden outside.

When I woke, Dante was sitting beside me.

In those days he was full of spirit, the youngest doctor the Family had ever trusted with a knife and a secret.

Seeing how dejected I was, he smiled and handed me a piece of orange hard candy.

"Once that old man makes up his mind, no one can change it."

I nodded, crestfallen.

The next second, he gave me a wink.

"But I happen to admire people who take their work seriously."

"If you can't get him to talk."

"How about getting me to talk instead?"

It was only later that I learned the truth.

Half the network had wanted a sit-down with that young genius doctor.

He had turned every one of them down.

I was the only exception.

That was how we met, fell in love, and bound ourselves together under the old codes.

Later, as both our worlds grew busier and busier.

Dante began bringing up, again and again, that the elders of the famiglia needed looking after.

He said:

"Adriana, I know making your name in the network is your dream."

"But someone has to keep this house."

"Could you step back, just a little?"

"I promise I'll be good to you for the rest of my life."

I couldn't bear to put him in a hard place.

I couldn't bear to give up the union either.

In the end I didn't walk away entirely, but I asked to be moved to the quiet work in the back.

From a woman who went to the front lines, to someone sorting files and arranging schedules in the shadows.

On so many sleepless nights.

I would quietly dig out my credential.

Tracing the name on it again and again.

As if mourning another version of myself.

Every time Dante caught me at it, he would hold me and apologize.

He'd say once things weren't so hectic, he would make it up to me twice over.

That he would be good to me for the rest of my life.

But now.

That credential I had treasured like a jewel.

He had carelessly shoved under the leg of a desk.

Like trash.

Just like me, worn down to nothing little by little over these years.

I drew in a deep breath and walked to the safe beside the bookshelf.

I tried the combination three times.

In the end I entered Vittoria's birthday.

"Beep—"

The safe clicked open.

And my heart sank all the way to the bottom.

On top lay a thick kraft-paper envelope.

When I opened it, photo after photo spilled out.

Embracing.

Kissing.

Fingers laced together.

Walking by the sea.

Holding each other in the snow.

The two people in the photos were smiling, so happy.

As happy as real lovers.

And the span of time stretched a full five years.

Beneath the photos was a thick stack of receipts.

Buying a house.

Renovations.

Seed money for the social club.

Cash to cover the front's losses, month after month.

Every sum was staggeringly high.

Even though Vittoria's club had been bleeding money the whole time.

Dante had poured tribute into it without a moment's hesitation.

I turned through them one by one.

And suddenly I understood something.

So it turned out that all these years.

It was never that he had no time.

Nor that he had no strength left to give.

He had simply given all his favor.

To another woman.