His Wife, Her Lover, Their Daughter

g back into place. He beckoned a waiter over. "Our... friend

fuse, Giovanni himself was standing over me, his hand on my shoulder i

ey watched, their expressions a mixture of irritation and curiosity. I knew

e," Giovanni an

ey asked, her nose wrinkled

e behind it. Her eyes were still scanning my appearan

a change," I said si

ange is good. We were just talking about the campaign. Things are looking fan

A waiter arrived

a said automatically, not even looki

eference, every allergy. I had tailored my own tastes to fi

er a decade of marriage, she didn

so bleak it wa

waiter, "I'll have the lamb vindaloo. Extr

d toward me. "You do

n," I said cool

"Uncle Gio is allergic to l

her. "He's not

knife. Angela stared at me, her brow furrowed, as if t

for this, Daddy?" Chaney demanded

ela. "The money I earned for ten years of service to th

d to mean?" Angela as

one being your support staff. Done putting my life on h

rying a tray of hot sou

e tray tilted, and a tureen of sc

front of him, shoving him out of the way. She took the

ide of the table. Hot soup splashed across my arm and chest. The pa

e was loo

cried, grabbing his hands,

e said, shaking her off

as clutching his burning arm. She ran around the ta

contorted with rage. "You made the wa

my injured arm hitting the floor. A fresh explosion

rant, my arm on fire, and my own family stood

ripping with disgust. She cradled her own arm, where a red

as okay. She didn't e

to Giovanni. "Is your arm o

oking her hair. He looked down at me

m, a united front of blame. They didn't off

just

the broken porcelain and the stares of strangers. The pain in my

ly alone. And I was fin