[RE-WRITTEN]

Liliana commenced the morning as she had before her marriage. Zia Adelina and Liliana sat out in the garden, sharing a pot of tea and nibbling on her Zia's homemade cornetto's. A bite of the sweet pastry truly signified her return to Italy, however short the trip would be.

Marcello was still in their room, on the phone to his brothers to ensure everything was still running smoothly back in New York, despite the fact that it had not even been twenty-four hours since they had left. But, if keeping in contact with his brothers was required for the trip to happen, then Liliana didn't care.

"Tell me honestly, how has everything been since the incident?" Adelina asked, setting down her fork as she finished the last of her breakfast.

"The incident?" Liliana asked with a frown, still picking at her own food.

"Since the break-in," her aunt clarified. She looked annoyed as she continued to explain, "Roderigo only called just before Marcello did about visiting, and he didn't tell us much but I know he's been working with Marcello to locate those responsible. I certainly had a word with him about not telling me sooner. I've been worried ever since waiting for your arrival."

Liliana felt something in her chest constrict, and to avoid answering straight away, she took a long sip of her tea. How much should she reveal to her aunt? Should she tell her about the sleepless nights, the bouts of anxiety, or the momentary panic attack she experienced after returning to the D'Onofrio manor alone?

"I-" Liliana's voice broke. "I've not been doing great. It's been a struggle to feel safe in the house, and I already didn't feel comfortable there. Ever since the wedding I've felt so exhausted all the time, I never have much of an appetite, and I just... I don't know what to do with myself anymore. The attack only seemed to exasperate that."

"Oh Liliana," Adelina sighed, watching her with sad, misty eyes.

"I've been staying with a friend for a few weeks," Liliana said, her fingers tapping restlessly against the table top. She had discussed this topic with very few people; only Sophia and Marcello thus far and it discomforted her to talk about such private feelings. "I had to get away for a while."

"A friend? Is that safe?"

"Sophia lives with her uncle, his house is a good drive from the city and is no doubt safer than the D'Onofrio's. He's wealthy, wealthier than Marcello, and can afford the protection. Marcello trusts him."

"And do you trust Marcello's judgment?" Adelina queried.

"I trust my own judgement," Lilian firmly insisted. She needn't Mercello to hold her hand for every decision now she was married. She had managed well enough on her own for years before her father and Sebastiano interfered. "But I also know Marcello cares a lot for my safety, he wouldn't let me stay there if he thought Barbato could not keep me safe."

Her aunt nodded, lips pursed as she sat quietly and digested the information.

"Has my father contacted you at all?"

"No, not since he left to sign the contracts with Sebastiano about the restaurants," Adelina disclosed bitterly. She sighed, and glared down at her empty cup, uttering tersely, "I never knew he could be so stupid."

"I've come to understand my father has done a lot of stupid things in his life, one being Gabriella D'Onofrio."

Adelina tensed, hissing sharply through her teeth. "That was who he had an affair with?"

"You knew?" Liliana asked, just as shocked.

"I went to visit him in America, before you were born, and I suspected he was having an affair with someone. I could never be sure though and I didn't dare say something. Our men are known to have their mistresses but-" Adelina shook her head, her mouth curving into a sneer. "To sleep with Sebastiano D'Onofrio's wife, what was he thinking? I suppose your marriage makes more sense now."

"What do you mean?"

"Ownership is a valued prospect, ownership of their women even more so. Your father took Gabriella from Sebastiano, so it seems Sebastiano has claimed you in retribution." The very thought of such a thing sickened Liliana, but it was not surprising. She hadn't thought of it like that before. She had assumed that Sebastiano and claimed her out of guilt for his wife's part in her mother's death, to save her from her father, but her aunt's theory held far more weight.

"Do you know about my mother too?"

"Your mother?" Adelina asked, seeming genuinely confused.

"About the truth of her death. That she found out about my father's affair, that Gabriella taunted her with it, until eventually she killed herself in the D'Onofrio manor. There's photographs of it."

"You've seen them?" Adelina seemed horrified, the colour leaching from her face.

"Unfortunately." The sight of your own mother dead, was not a sight you could forget. "My father was the one who acted wrongly, and yet she was the one who suffered because of it. And he spent so many years spinning lies to protect his own image, how is that fair?" Liliana asked, emotion welling in her throat.

"It's often us that face the brunt of the punishment," Adelina declared solemnly. "I had a marriage just like yours. Even your nonno is not as great as he seems; he holds the same traditions as the rest of them when it concerns their women. I was a daughter and then I was a wife. I lacked an identity till the point which I was widowed. It wasn't until I was in my late forties that I had control of myself. I had hoped you would not be forced down the same path as I did."

"Nonno forced you into marriage?" Liliana's voice was a whisper. She couldn't imagine her grandfather forcing Adelina to be with such a man. Had her grandfather known what kind of man Adelina's husband was? Did he not care about the environment that Adelina and his grandsons had lives in?

Adelina nodded and heaved a dejected sigh. "Listen to us, such depressing topics so early in the morning. What is life like back in America? Tell me about your new friend."

"Sophia? She's older than me, studying business at college. She has a history with Giovanni actually," Liliana gossiped, more than happy to change the topic of their conversation.

"And the D'Onofrio's are okay with you two being friends? Giovanni is okay with it?" Adelina quirked an eyebrow in disbelief.

Liliana shrugged a shoulder, slouching in her chair now that the conversation topic had eased. She reached for her tea again, bringing the cup to her lips as she said, "If he isn't, he hasn't said anything. Giovanni is surprisingly not as demanding as his older brother."

"How refreshing," Adelina breathed. "Well I'm glad you have someone other than the D'Onofrio's to fill your company with. I understand how stifling a marriage can be sometimes."

"Ma?" The loud voice of Gavino cut through their conversation. Soon after the three boys filled the wide doorway that led the garden. They were all dressed in training gear, and Liliana knew that they had just returned from their morning run. Everything, it seemed, was the same as it had been before she left.

"This is a strange sight to see," Federico laughed, stepping out into the garden with Gavino hot on his heels. Marco didn't follow them, turning back into the house without a word, which was not unusual behaviour from her eldest cousin, he was far more reserved than the others. "It's been a while since we've found the two of you out here. It's good to have you back."

"It feels good to be back," Liliana replied, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she eyed up the sheen of sweat that covered all three of her cousins. Federico seemed the sweatiest, and she noted he was still catching his breath. "Still having a hard time of keeping up I see Fede?" She teased.

"Me? Struggling?" He gasped in outrage, turning to pose with tensed biceps and a ridiculous pout. "I'm the fittest one here. Gavino's the fat one."

"Oh fuck off," Gavino scoffed, shoving Federico away from him, instantly initiating a scuffle between the two men.

"Stop it both of you!" Adelina chastised, as the two continue to roughly grab at each other, all while laughing boisterously and flinging insults at one another. Adelina continued to grumble while Liliana joined in on the laughter, more than delighted to be in her idiot cousins company once again. That is until Federico tripped and came crashing right into the garden table, and the hot pot of tea tipped out all over Liliana's hands and forearms.

"Fanculo!" Liliana hissed in Italian, flinching back and jumping to her feet. "Fucking hell that's hot!"

"Oh shit! Fuck! Are you okay?" Gavino cursed, stepping over Federico on the ground to come to her side.

"What the hell is happening?" Mercellos sharp voice suddenly bellowed across the small garden. He was by her side, grabbing the damp napkins from her to look at her hands, examining the red skin.

"Are you okay?" He asked, glaring at her cousins. "You need to run your hands under some water."

"What did I tell you! Idiota!" Adelina was also glaring fiercely at her sons, picking up everything that had knocked over.

"It's honestly not bad," Liliana tried to assure, as Marcello led her inside towards the kitchen. "Honestly, it doesn't hurt much, it was more shock than anything."

Moments later Mercello was thrusting her hands under the kitchen tap, cool water running across her skin, a release to the throbbing heat.

"It was just an accident," Liliana tried to cease Mercello's grumbling. He was acting like a mother hen.

"They should be more careful. This is what happens when men act like children."

Liliana rolled her eyes and let Mercello continue his mothering. She knew it stemmed from worry, and her lips quirked at the thought.

"You called home this morning, how are your brothers' coping? Crumbling without you?" Liliana chuckled, finally pulling her hands out from under the water despite Mercello's frown.

"They can handle things without me. But.... I've heard news that Alessandro Barbato is here," he grumbled, eyes rolling as he quickly turned off the tap.

"Barbato's in Italy? Did he follow us here?" She slowly patted her hands dry against the fabric of her dress, brows knitting together. What reason did Barbato have to be in Italy at the same time they were visiting? It was hard to deny how suspicious such a trip seemed. Especially considering the dangers Liliana knew she and the D'Onofrio's were still in; if the culprit for her attack still roamed free then who was to say he wouldn't strike again?

"He's always popping up where he's not wanted lately." It was clear to Liliana that Barbato's continuous presence was irking Mercello. Did her husband suspect foul play on Barbato's behalf also?

"Has he contacted you?" Liliana asked, eyes narrowing. Perhaps Liliana would be the one to contact him. She had barely seen the older man while she was staying at his home with Sophia, but she was infinitely grateful to him for all he had done for her.

"Not yet, but I have a feeling he will if he's in the city," Marcello sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter with crossed arms. It was only then that Liliana noticed what her husband was wearing. Gone was the white, long sleeve button up and tie, and in it's place was an unbuttoned short sleeve, blue shirt atop a white t-shirt. He looked so normal for once, and not at all like the feared mafioso he was. Marcello's biceps flexed and bulged with his arms crossed the way they were, and the blue fabric seemed so bright against golden skin and dark hair; how had she not noticed what he was wearing before now?

"And, ah-" Liliana cleared her throat, a flush burning up the length of her neck and flooding her cheeks. "Will you meet with him if he does?"

The bastard smirked, so clearly aware of her ogling. Despite his obvious smugness, he thankfully didn't comment on pathetic slip in composure.

"I don't know, though I am curious as to why he is here. It can't be a coincidence."

"It's possible he's just taking a trip," Liliana reasoned.

"It's possible," Mercello agreed, though his tone suggested he didn't believe that theory. "I have to go meet with an old friend this morning, after that I'll be free from work for a couple of days. Is that okay?"

"Of course, that's fine," she murmured, baffled. It was almost incomprehensible that he was asking for her permission. She was frozen in place, as he stepped towards her, staring at him with wide eyes.

"I'll see you later." He spoke quietly, leaning in. His lips grazed hers but landed gently on her cheek instead.

***

"Zia?" Liliana called out as she strolled through the house, finding her aunt to be in the lounge with her youngest cugino Gavino. Gavino was spread against the sofa, his head resting in his mamas lap with his eye closed while Adelina read a book.

Liliana snorted a laugh at the sight.

"Is bambino Gavino having some quality mama time?" She teased.

Gavino's eyes cracked open, a scowl already on his face. "Shut up Lili, don't be a brat."

"Don't argue with each other," Adelina chided the both of them with mock annoyance. She marked her page and placed down the book beside her. "You wanted me Liliana?"

Without his mother noticing, Gavino stuck his tongue out childishly at Liliana. Sometimes she forgot Gavino was two years younger than her, right now it was irritatingly clear.

"What are we doing about supper?" Liliana smiled sweetly at her aunt, aware of her cousin's teasing face.

Gavino barked a laugh, exclaiming loudly, "Jesu, do you ever stop eating?"

"Do you ever be quiet?" Liliana retorted with a frown before the blinding smile spread across her face once again. "Zia?"

"We've not even had lunch yet!" Gavino continue to laugh, only stopping when his mother swiftly sent him a firm scowl.

"We can go out tonight if you want? I can get a table sorted for us later tonight."

"Sounds good," Liliana confirmed just as Gavino groaned loudly, drawing her attention once again. He was staring behind her with a sour expression, and one quick glance confirmed that Marcello had returned. Liliana rolled her eyes, ignoring Gavino, and turned towards Marcello.

"Everything okay?" She asked, moving over to the doorway where Marcello lingered. She closed the lounge door behind her for some privacy. She had a feeling that Gavino would report Mercello's every movement to her older cousins, given the chance.

"Yeah." Marcello was smiling down at her strangely; strange because he'd never looked at her so softly before.

"What?" She could feel heat blooming across her face. This kind of attention seemed foreign to Liliana, especially from Mercello.

"I've never seen you act like that before," he murmured softly, a smile still etched on his lips. "It's endearing."

"Act like what?"

"Teasing and joking with Gavino just now." He was closer to her now, within reach.

She tried to ignore the proximity, keeping a stiff posture. "Perhaps that's because I'm forced to act older than my age when I'm with you and your brothers. It wouldn't do me any good to act with anything but maturity, as no child would survive what we're going through."

"You know I'm sorry for what you've been put through." Mercello's thumb grazed Liliana's right cheek, his smile turned to a grimace. She hated herself for softening against his touch and at his words.

Liliana sighed, "And I know I can't blame you for where I am now, who I am now. I know that blame falls on my own family." Looking up at Marcello it was easy to see the surprise on his face. "I know I've fought you every step of the way, and I won't apologise for fighting for my own agency, the way I acted was justified, but I can also see that you are trying, and you're finally granting me the respect and lenience I deserve. You're treating me more of an equal and less of an inferior."

"How do you know my new attitude isn't a result of being surrounded by your family. I'm outnumbered here, it's in my best interest to be cautious." He was smirking, but Liliana knew the question was genuine.

"Because I know you're not afraid of my cousins, even if you think you are here alone. And I know you're too stubborn to let that affect your actions anyway." Mercello snaked an arm around her waist, holding her to him. Liliana patted his chest with her own smirk. "And I know you're not easily influenced. We're eating out with my family tonight, you can prove how strong willed you are by behaving and not starting any arguments with my cousins." "I'll try my best, but no promises. They're surprisingly easy to irritate," Marcello said, visibly amused. "What are you doing right now? Have you had lunch?"

"No, why?"

"I thought we could go out, just the two of us."

"Oh..." Liliana said, blinking up at him, feeling a little lost by his suggestion. He wanted to go out to eat, just the two of them; was this a date? She couldn't fathom why, but her heart leapt at the thought. "Yeah, sure... that sounds great."

***

The café Marcello had chosen was small, quiet, and tucked away down a narrow, cobblestone street. Usually at this time of day the cafés would be flooded with patrons having a long, luxurious lunch in the sun. Marcello had clearly chosen this place for it's privacy, and for that Liliana was thankful.

They had opted to sit inside, Marcello leading them towards the back of the café into a small, worn leather booth. Liliana had her back to the rest of the room, while Marcello had a perfect view to see everything, and she noted how his eyes would scan the area after every view minutes.

The waiter had just brought out their drinks; Marcello an espressos, and Liliana a pot of ginger tea - and he assured them that their food, a ridiculous amount of various snacks and sharing dishes that Marcello had ordered, would be out soon. When he left, the same silence that had settled between them ever since they had left her aunts home, had returned. Liliana wasn't sure what to say, she still wasn't entirely sure why Marcello had asked her to accompany him here.

Her aunt had said nothing when Liliana told her of their lunchtime plans, and only raised a brow in what Liliana's was sure was mild disbelief.

"You wear that a lot," Marcello commented casually, finally speaking, his eyes fixed on the small azure broach Liliana had pinned to her jacket now slung across the back of her chair. Liliana followed his line of sight in surprise.

"I like it," she said simply, nodding slightly. "It was left for me the morning of our wedding, I don't know by whom."

Marcello nodded stiffly, and Liliana felt compelled to continue talking. She cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks tinge pink as she confessed, "It feels a bit like a good luck charm; which is silly, I know, considering why I was gifted it. But, wearing it makes me feel better somehow, like a strange sort of anchor that gives me some sense of strength to get through the day."

"It was my mother's."

Liliana froze, feeling the breath catch in her throat as she met his pensive gaze.

"I- I didn't realise."

He glanced away, a tick in his clenched jaw. The hand of his that was resting against the table, curled back into a fist, and the gleam of his gold rings caught the light. It was his wedding band in particular caught her attention, though - a thick silver band, almost identical to hers. They were not rings she would have chosen herself, and she still had not grown used to it's weight on her finger.

There was a thick knot in her throat as she asked carefully, "Why? Why did you leave it for me?"

She remembered him telling her how little he had of his mother, and couldn't comprehend why he would give away something so precious. They had barely known one another then, and they certainly had not liked one another.

"Knowing who your mother was, knowing our mother's were friends, I'm certain if she were alive, she would have given you it herself," he began, his voice deeper than usual and his face still turned away from her. She could see his expression though, even if he avoided seeing hers, his thick brows furrowed deeply. He shrugged dismissively. "What's the saying; something old, something blue? Besides, you seemed so... miserable that morning, that whole week in Belize really. I hadn't planned it, but my family were getting on my nerves that morning, and when I stepped out for a moment I found myself at your door, with the broach and note in hand. I hadn't expected you to wear it on your dress, if I'm honest, I certainly hadn't expected you to wear it as often as you do."

"Does it bother you to see me wearing it so much?" As much as she had come to admire the broach, wearing it like a small shield whenever she found herself out in public, she would stop if it upset him. His mother - like hers - was a sensitive subject, and she could empathise with the desire to avoid it.

"I don't mind," he muttered thickly, and if he had not turned to look at her then and met her eyes she may have presumed he were lying to her. But indeed, his expression didn't seem to hold any deceit. Instead, he seemed undoubtedly uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat, sighed and divulged, "I like seeing you wear it."

Liliana nodded, taking a sip of her tea. Silence ensued between them once more, not a comfortable silence that she often enjoyed, but one of tension - as it always seemed to be between them. It left her on edge, as she was always unsure on where they both stood, more so now since she had left the manor and truly demanded distance from him. She was aware that what they needed most was to talk more, as they had that night in his car. While it had been difficult and uncomfortable at the time, and had bordered so close to being one of their usual arguments, speaking so openly with him had felt freeing, and she wanted to feel that again.

Before she could say anything, however, Marcello leant back into his seat, dragging a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry," he began, pausing to exhale deeply, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about your mother. It didn't feel like it was my place. I didn't know how to go about telling you something like that."

The sudden shift in conversation surprised her, and despite how much she didn't want to talk about her mother, or be reminded of her death, she knew it was a conversation they needed to have.

"I can understand that," Liliana said, staring solemnly into her cup of tea. If she wished to truly be honest with Marcello, he had given her a perfect opportunity to do so. "At the time, it was a lot for me to learn at once, and I didn't know how to process it. Ever since... ever since the break-in I found it difficult to be alone in the house without the fear gripping so tightly at my chest I could barely breath. Finding out about my mother, seeing the photographs of my mother like that, was just another thing I didn't know how to handle. It was all too much, and I had to leave the manor to give myself time to think.

"Do you understand why I was so upset? I want to make it clear that I do not blame you for what happened to my mother and I never did. Our parents sins are not our own to bear, and it would be cruel of me to hold you accountable for such. But I was so overwhelmed, and I was losing myself; it felt as if I were suffocating, and everything I knew to be true, all of my foundations were crumbling beneath me. It felt like I had no one left to trust; my aunt, cousins and grandfather had abandoned me without so much as a word, and everything I knew of my father is a lie. Learning of my mother, learning that you all already knew, I felt trapped, and I felt like I had been set up for failure. Both of our mother's had suffered the life of a mafioso wife and had killed themselves, and there I was, a young little wife all wrapped in white, gifted to you, and pushed into the same lifestyle that my mother and Adreana had not survived. Maybe it was stupid of me to have any expectations of you, stupid of me to feel so blind-sided by the knowledge that you knew about my mother and had not told me, especially when we had barely even said so much as one kind word to one another, but with no one else left to trust, I had wanted to trust you."

Marcello's expression fell, his eyes widening somewhat. "I hadn't realised how much the night of the attack affected you."

Liliana only shrugged, not sure what else she could say.

He reached forward, and Marcello grabbed one of her hands, turning it over in his. His thumb traced the delicate lines of her palm, all the while his eyes refused to leave hers. Liliana swallowed heavily, feeling her mouth become dry under such unwavering attention.

"It's not stupid to want to place trust in people, it's not stupid to want to trust me," Marcello assured, looking pained.

"Perhaps not stupid, but certainly naïve. I expected too much of you."

"No you didn't." He said firmly, squeezing her hand. "If, after all this, you want to leave... If you want to leave me, you can," he murmured softly, his voice too quiet amongst the faint chatter of the café.

"What are you saying?" Liliana asked, pulling back quickly, words sharper than she intended.

Marcello sighed, seeming tired as he explained, "If you wish to divorce me, I won't fight you. If you cannot bear to be married to be, I will let you go." Even as he spoke his mouth twisted, as if the words tasted foul on his tongue. "I don't want our lives to become a repeat of our parents."

"Marcello..." Liliana breathed. "You know as well as I do, that we don't have that choice. You may let me go, but our families, your men..." Their culture did not allow for divorce, the only way to escape marriage was death, and even then she could not truly be free. Without sons of her own, her life would once again be controlled by her cousins, or worse, Marcello's brothers. She could never marry again, never be allowed to even entertain the idea of another man.

This was not the first time Marcello had made such a comment about her leaving him, and once again she was left baffled that he assumed it could ever be so simple, once again she was reminded of how naïve the men in her life seemed to be of the restrictions and dangers women in this life faced. Yet still, Marcello's words felt like a release.

She would ever be free of him, she would never escape him, but that was not his fault. Just like her, he had not chosen this marriage, and given the chance she could leave and he would not stop her, he could accept and respect her decision. He would not keep her trapped to him against her wishes.

She heard him groan, and then Marcello leant across the table with his palms resting against her cheeks as he arched her face up towards him. His thumbs wiped beneath her eyes and Liliana was startled to realise she was crying.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he apologised again and again, though she couldn't be sure what for. He went to pull away but Liliana's hands shot to his wrists, holding him there, still cupping her face. When she angled her head to press her mouth to his, he met her with equal enthusiasm.

The kiss was slow, but his mouth pressed to hers so hard she knew it would leave her lips red and swollen. Liliana didn't care that they were out in public, and that anyone could see them, all she cared about was his lips on hers, the pounding of her heart, and the warmth of his hands cradling her face to him.

***

Late that evening, Liliana found herself sat closely beside Marcello at a large outdoor table at her aunt's restaurant. The outdoor patio was decorated with various fairy-lights, and the white candles flickering in the centre of the table worked well to create an intimate and cosy atmosphere.

Naturally Liliana was sat next to Mercello, his hand resting on her knee while everyone drank and awaited their food. His fingers stroked the bare skin of her knee that was on show from the black skirt she wore. Her shiver didn't escape his attention as he smirked, leaned into her ear and whispered a taunting, "Cold?"

"Not at all," she murmured back against the rim of her glass of water. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye she realised Marcello wasn't looking at her at all, but at Marco across the table who was staring right back, expression muted as he listened to whatever Federico was saying to him. "You're trying to cause trouble again."

"Not at all," Mercello chuckled. "I'm your husband, I'm allowed to show you affection. If he can't handle that then that's his problem."

"Liar," Liliana chuckled, "Stop staring at him as you nuzzle into my neck and I'll believe you."

"Marco's resolve is admirable, but Gavino surely need's to work on his. He's positively fuming," Marcello said, sounding a little too smug. It was true though, Liliana's poor aunt was chatting Gavino's ear off while he focussed all his attention on Liliana and Marcello instead, a heavy set scowl tugging at his brow. It was getting to be ridiculous, this obvious hatred he had for her husband. He clearly hadn't objected of Marcello enough to prevent her marrying him, yet he had no qualms with showing his distaste for the man any time they shared a room.

Liliana kept her thoughts to herself, recognising now was not the time to confront Gavino about his obvious issues. Especially not as the food was finally brought out and the conversation eased as everyone enjoyed their meals.

"You're not eating much," Marcello murmured beside her, his own food seemingly forgotten as he eyed her with a frown. Liliana noted he caught the attention of Adelina across the table, and that she looked vaguely surprised by his words. "What's wrong?"

"I don't feel that hungry," Liliana explained quietly, flushing when she realised they had now caught the attention of everyone at the table. "I think it was something we ate for lunch, I've been feeling a bit queasy since this afternoon."

"I feel fine," Marcello contradicted.

Liliana pursed her lips, smiling wryly as she argued, "Yes, but you also didn't eat much. You were too busy watching me eat." He did that a lot she'd noticed, as he was doing now.

"That's disgusting," Federico groaned from the other side of the table.

Liliana shot him a filthy look. "Not in a sexual way you pervert."

By the time the plates had been cleared, Liliana was leant against Marcello, her head resting against his shoulder, stifling her yawns. Thankfully nobody wished to stay any longer at the restaurant and Liliana was in bed by midnight.

"Did you not sleep well last night?" Marcello asked, as he peeled back the bed sheets and eased into the bed beside her.

"It's just been a long day," Liliana assured with a yawn. "I spent most of the morning with my cousins while you were away and they can be exhausting at times."

Marcello frowned as he settled, sat upright against the headboard while Liliana lay on her side facing him. It seemed as if he wished to say more, but was hesitating for some reason. Usually Marcello could be quite blunt with his words, seeing him so unsure was odd.

"If something was wrong, you would tell me, wouldn't you?"

Liliana paused, trying her best to read her husband's expression, but found it unreadable. "Why would anything be wrong?"

Mercello was silent for a few seconds too many. It was then she noticed how tired he looked, clearly whatever this was had been bothering him for a while. "I just don't want you to feel like you have to keep things to yourself. I want you to be able to speak to me, whenever you want, about anything. I don't want..." Mercello didn't finished his sentence but he needn't have to. He didn't want her to become like his mother.

"Nothing is wrong, I promise. I'm just tired."

Liliana leaned to press her lips to his forehead, Mercello's eyes closing at the contact. She pulled away, not understanding why she had done so but knowing in that moment Mercello had needed the comfort regardless.

"Goodnight."

"Night," he uttered heavily in return.

***

Mercello watched as Liliana turned away from him, getting comfortable in the bed. He didn't want to sleep, not just yet, but he was tired and his eyes were drooping. Honestly, all he wanted in that moment was her attention once again, her gentle touch and obvious concern. He didn't want her to turn away from him and he sure as hell didn't want to spend another night feeling so detached while being right beside her.

There was an ache in him - not the usual throbbing of his lust, the ache to devour her thoroughly and intensely - nor was it the sappy romantic swelling of his heart, but an ache in his gut that seemed foreign and un-nameable. It was an ache that made him long for something forever out of his grasp, never attainable. He never usually allowed himself to dwell upon his feelings for too long, usually he drowned any ache away with the toxicity of alcohol, but now sober it was inescapable.

He felt vulnerable, something he had not experienced in decades. He was lost, unguided. His mind a mess of untamed thoughts. He missed that which he barely remembered having, and wanted that which he had never had. He yearned for a gentle touch, for someone he could confide everything in. This character he had been playing throughout his life, the person he had to be for his family and business wore him down daily, while he pushed all else aside.

Mercello shifted upon the mattress, his body now a hair's breadth away from Liliana's, the ache never lifting until he succumbed to sleep.





I've added an extra (long important) scene to this chapter where Lil and Mar finally open up a little more and start talking about everything. To any re-readers reading this (that read the old version), please let me know what you think about all these changes!