Why the Mafia’s Wife Kills Chapter 14
At the end of the month, I flew to Paris.
Lucius met me at the airport.
He’d arrived two days earlier and already knew the city.
He took my luggage, and we took a taxi to the hotel.
“I booked you the room next to mine.”
Lucius said.
“Rest first. I’ll take you to dinner tonight.”
“Okay.”
The hotel was on the Seine.
My room window looked directly at the Eiffel Tower.
I unpacked, took a shower, and changed clothes.
That night, Lucius took me to a fancy French restaurant.
The atmosphere was beautiful.
Live violin music.
“Do you come to Paris often?” I asked.
“Mm. For business. A few times a year.”
Lucius said.
“But it’s always work. No time for fun.
This time, I can show you around.”
“You’ll be my tour guide?”
“Honored.”
We talked and laughed over dinner-about Paris, work, silly stories from high school.
Lucius was a great storyteller.
He made our old embarrassing moments sound hilarious.
I laughed until my stomach hurt.
“Do you remember?” Lucius said.
“Sophomore year track meet.
You tripped and fell halfway through the race. Your knee was bleeding, but you finished anyway.
“I remember.” I laughed.
“I was so embarrassed. The whole school was watching.”
“It wasn’t embarrassing.” Lucius looked at me, his gaze soft.
“It was brave.”
My heart raced again.
After dinner, we walked along the Seine.
Paris was magical at night, lit up everywhere.
The Eiffel Tower glowed.
“Cold?” Lucius asked.
“A little.”
He took off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders.
It still smelled like him, warm and safe.
“Lucius.” I said suddenly.
“What if…
I mean, if we got together…
would you think I’m just lonely after my divorce?”
Lucius stopped walking and turned to face me.
“Simone.” He spoke seriously.
“I’ve liked you since high school.
I was too scared to say it back then. I missed my chance.
I’m not missing it again.”
“But I’ve been married once before…”
“I don’t care.” Lucius cut me off.
“I care about you. Not your past.”
The night wind blew, cold on my cheeks.
Lucius’s eyes were bright, like stars.
“Give me time.” I said.
“I’m not ready for a new relationship yet.”
“Okay.” Lucius smiled.
“I’ll wait. As long as you need.”
We kept walking.
Our hands brushed occasionally.
Neither of us pulled away.
For two weeks in Paris, Lucius took me everywhere I wanted to go.
The Louvre. Arc de Triomphe. Notre-Dame.
We acted like normal tourists-taking photos, eating ice cream,
sitting in street cafés soaking up the sun.
Sometimes I thought about Dante.
He’d promised to take me to Paris for our honeymoon.
But he never did.
Always busy. Never had time.
Now I was here.
With someone else.
On our last night, we watched the Eiffel Tower light show.
On the hour, the tower sparkled.
It looked like a dream.
Lucius stood beside me.
He said suddenly. “Simone. Let’s try.”
I didn’t answer.
“I’m not asking you to commit right now.” He explained.
“Just…
Let’s act like a couple.
If you don’t like it, you can stop anytime.”
Пooked at the sparkling tower,
then at Lucius’s hopeful face.
I nodded.
“Okay.”
Lucius broke into a bright, happy smile.
He took my hand.
This time, I didn’t pull away.
His hand was warm.