I watched every shameless second of it, and it felt like a blade twisting between my ribs.
In all our years of marriage, he had only ever been composed and dignified in front of me. The Don, measured and controlled, restrained even in our marriage bed.
I had never once seen him like this.
Ermanno helped Katarina into the back of the black sedan with exaggerated care. The driver pulled away from the curb, but the car didn't get far. It idled at the end of the block, the tinted windows fogged from the inside. They couldn't even wait.
I don't know how long it lasted. Eventually the sedan pulled forward again and merged into traffic.
I followed them the entire way. I watched Ermanno slide an elegant gold pin through her tangled hair and twist it into place. I watched them walk arm in arm through the old neighborhood, past the social clubs and the bakeries where men who answered to him looked the other way. I watched them sit at a corner trattoria and share a single plate of pasta, his hand covering hers on the red-checked tablecloth.