Thirty Years, One Mistake Chapter 01
My husband was driving his Cullinan, listening to the late night radio. The host asked softly, “On Valentine’s Day, to all the gentlemen in their cars — is the woman in the passenger seat still the same girl who stood by you through thick and thin?”
Don Luca glanced instinctively at the passenger seat. His mistress’s silk nightgown lay there, the collar marked with a bright lipstick stain.
They had just finished a very satisfying, vigorous round in the car.
He’d come to Boston to clean house, and that blonde bombshell named Erin kept buying all kinds of sex toys and jumping him again and again.
Finally, Luca handed her an unlimited black card. Erin screamed with excitement and ran off to the mall on a shopping spree.
It was his eighth year of cheating. But he was starting to get bored.
Luca took out his phone, transferred fifty two thousand dollars into my account, and sent me a message: “My Lady, I miss you.”
The message was rejected. The transfer was returned.
And Luca finally remembered — I’d already asked him for a divorce.
On the eve of his birthday, I kept it a secret from everyone. I carried that ultrasound report and arrived at the airport full of hope.
But at the exit, I ran into a familiar young, pretty face.
Eight years ago, on the night before our wedding, it was this same face I caught — tangled up with Luca on my wedding bed.
At that moment, the usually composed Don Luca completely broke down. He knelt in front of me, begging, saying he’d been drunk and mistaken her for me.
He confessed in tears, held a gun to his own head, swore he wanted to prove his sincerity.
The girl also cried. She said she’d just lost her head, that she’d stolen a room key from the front desk because she’d had a crush on him for years, but there was nothing between them.
I sat there numbly all night. The next day, I married him anyway.
For the next eight years, Luca and I had a happy marriage.
That old business, like the wedding bed, got thrown in the dump and never mentioned again.
Right now, that girl was flirting with someone on the phone. Her voice was sweet.
“What’s the rush? You’re so clingy today — I just got off the plane.”
“Okay, okay. Tonight you can have me anywhere you want. The floor to ceiling windows, the bathroom, the living room couch. Your call~”
She turned her head, and a face flashed across her phone screen — it actually looked a lot like Luca.
As if possessed, I pulled out my phone and texted him: [Luca, are you done yet?]
He didn’t reply.
…
The girl and I got into Ubers one after another.
For half an hour, both cars took exactly the same route.
After she got out, she kept talking on the phone and walked into the convenience store downstairs from Luca’s apartment building.
I hesitated a moment, then followed her inside.
Years had passed. She didn’t seem to recognize me. She grabbed two bottles of water and headed to the register.
Whoever was on the other end must have said something. She sounded half playful, half annoyed. “I’m not cold. I’m wearing plenty of clothes. If you don’t believe me, you can check later.”
“You can slide your hand inside, run it along my waist, all the way down…”
She reached out and took two boxes off the shelf with condoms.
Same brand, same flavor, same size. The kind I knew — the kind Luca always used.
Her voice dripped with sugar. “It’s your birthday. You get to decide how many times.”
I looked down at my phone.
Still no reply.
I paid and followed her out.
She said in a teasing voice, “Don’t rush me. I see your car.”
The rain hit my face like ice.
I pulled my coat tighter and pressed call with shaking hands.
A cold, mechanical voice said, “The number you have dialed is currently unavailable.”
He’d turned on Do Not Disturb.
Six months ago, he became the new Don of the family. He was so busy now that even I, his wife, couldn’t bother him.
It wasn’t the first time I couldn’t reach him.
A Bentley pulled up at the corner.
“Luca!”
The girl hurried a few steps and opened the passenger door.
I turned my head slightly and looked.
One look, and I was rooted to the spot.
The window was half down. The man in the driver’s seat was calm and distinguished.
The girl swayed her hips and planted a light kiss on the corner of his mouth.
He smiled helplessly. “So clingy.”
The streetlights were dim, but I could see his face clearly.
The face of the man who had been by my side for all thirty years of my life.
At three, we walked hand in hand down the alley. He gave me his only piece of candy.
At sixteen, at a private high school dance, he announced to everyone that I was his princess.
At nineteen, he nearly broke the leg of a Wall Street heir who was harassing me.
At twenty two, he knelt on one knee and swore I would be the only woman in his life.
Everything froze the night before the wedding.
I opened the hotel room door. He was naked, tangled up with a girl I didn’t know.
Everything was chaos that day.
Everyone said he’d just drunk too much and mistaken her for someone else.
As his childhood sweetheart, I should give him a chance.
Even the girl knelt and apologized. Said it was her fault. Said she’d bribed a waiter for the room key, just to fulfill a secret crush.
Luca, proud and strong since childhood, had red eyes for the first time.
He saw me crying silently. He raised a gun to his temple.
“Linda, I’ve let you down. If you don’t believe me, I’ll die right here. You’re the only one in my heart.”
Tears blurred his face. His voice shook.
“Don’t leave me. Please. You know I’ve loved you for so many years.”
“If you don’t want me, I’ll die. I really will…”
Later, I locked that memory away.
After all those years together, I thought we were inseparable. Childhood sweethearts to the end.
But in that moment — our thirty years finally fell apart.
