61

Faust

Mid-morning, I arrived in the kitchen to find my son and wife laughing over coffee and cornetti. It was almost as if the horror of the last month hadn't happened. I felt a smile tugging at my mouth. Things would soon go back to the way they were, including Francesca fucking me.

Their laughter died down as I made another espresso. But I had other things in mind. I was exhausted. Enzo hadn't broken yet, but he would. I had given him a lot of grief last night, enough to last for days.

Still, my mood was light. My dolcezza was back under my roof where she belonged.

We should go,” she said softly to Giulio. — I don't want to be late.

That made me turn around. —Where do you think you're going this morning?

His right eye twitched, but his voice remained monotone. — To the obstetrician, Fausto.

- I'll take you. — My day was full of calls and reports, but I would push them to do that with her. For her to forgive me, we had to spend time together.

— You're going to take me to the doctor.