Married To The Mafia...?

"Amelia..." Marcus Radev's voice was soft and smooth in the evening air, the heat had wash away a mild few degrees but the after burn was still there as the sun fell behind the moon. "Emmanuel is here, maybe you should come inside, hear what he has to say?"

"I don't need to hear whimsical ideas on where Ethan is. I already know where he is Marcus."

"Amelia it's been a week, if Ethan was alive he would have found a way to come home or make contact of some sort. You and I both know that."

To say I didn't believe the allegations that my husband had been another victim of Mason Samuels was an understatement. Maria called it denial- an initial stage of grieving while everyone else called it wishful thinking.

I heard Marcus sigh with frustration as he turned back inside and a few moments later the strangled cry of Maria Radev floated across the verandah I had sat upon almost every day since getting home from the hospital. I clenched my eyes shut, though I wouldn't cry, I hadn't shed a single tear since I woke up and I refused to break even now.

Footsteps shuffled out onto the cement over hang, I already knew who it was. He was the bearer of bad news and although I knew I shouldn't, I held it against him with everything I had. Almost immediately I stood upon my trembling legs not ready or wanting to hear the shit about to spill from his lips.

"Amelia," Emmanuel made to grab my arm lightly, attempting to stop me walking away as I had planned though I ripped my limb from his grasp and headed inside anyway. "They found a body."

I stopped short of the door, a weight immediately falling onto my shoulders, "Let me guess unrecognizable? So badly beaten there's nothing to identify?" 

"His dental records are a match, the bloods show his Marcus' relative. It's him Amelia."

I heard the sound well before I registered what I had done. My open palm already leaving a bright red imprint across Emmanuel's tan face. My eyes bulged slightly with shock but I didn't care, I couldn't.

Fumbling I made my way quietly to the bedroom Maria and Antonio had forced me to stay in for the past week my back hitting the door behind me, my head racing with what Emmanuel had said only seconds before.

it's him.

But it wasn't, it couldn't be. My husband, Ethaniel James Antonio Radev was still alive. He had to be!

I knew that everything pointed to the fact he was dead, forensic evidence had even named his body. But I couldn't accept it, I couldn't agree and mourn. I was in denial and my world had suddenly got a whole lot smaller.

"Amelia?" I didn't hold a grudge as his voice seeped through the wooden door, instead I tightly held my eyes shut shaking my thoughts away and pulled the heavy frame open.

"Take me home Emmanuel." It was demanding, it was pleading as his eyes looked caught between what I was asking and what he thought was best.

"I think- I think it's safer for you to stay here."

"I don't care what is safer, I need to go home. I have a funeral to start organizing."

I said nothing more as I moved outside the room, Emmanuel's eyes were sad and hollow but he nodded and followed my shaky steps down the hall.

------

They had cleaned the blood, from what I could tell anyway. The carpets and tiles smelled like bleach and furniture was still scattered around. I sighed heavily and Emmanuel walked slowly behind me.

"Do you want me to stay?" His voice was almost too calm.

I shook my head, "No, I- I think I'll be okay."

"I'm a floor down if you need me. I personally changed the security codes so nobody else knows them."

I didn't say anything as the elevator chimed and took away my husband's best friend and most trusted colleague. My eyes were focused on the excessively large photograph Maria had installed over the mantel. At the time Ethan and I had cringed at the idea, I had prayed we could take it down and put it in the cupboard underneath the sink without her realizing. But now, I appreciated it more than anything. Now, looking at it I couldn't tell if the happiness in our eyes was true or faux. It was overly cliche, the picturesque of happy wedding photos but I didn't mind. It captured the way his eyes shined when he smiled and I could practically hear the hearty laughing rising through his chest.

I missed him already.

Hot water steamed across my pores and tired muscles and I let it wash away all of my regret, all of my denial. I felt realization begin to sink in with each wet drop.

Ethan Radev was never coming home.

Dressing in a pair of small shorts and one of his t-shirts I crawled to his side of the unmade bed, my slightly damp hair wildly displayed over the pillow which still smelled strongly of him. I felt my chest tighten with the first sob, and burn with an ache I'd never felt before as I realized.

I had lost the one thing I truly fell in love with.