by Clara Capp
“Ah, of course.”
I exhale in relief when my father and Antonio strike up a conversation. The goal is to keep the conversation about Shu to a minimum. My dad needs to think our relationship is nothing more than he intended it to be—a mafia bodyguard.
The maids serve our dinner. It’s braised duck with a mulberry sauce, which I normally love to eat, but tonight I feel sick. I wasn’t expecting my father and brother to be here, and my body is responding accordingly.
I pick at the side of zucchini and mashed potatoes. After forcing myself to eat them, I eat a few bites of duck. Gross. I set my fork down and slowly drink some water.
“Is there something wrong with the food, Stephanie?” Antonio asks.
“Not at all. My friend and I were hanging out before this, and we ate a ton of junk food. It’s delicious; zucchini is my favorite vegetable.”
I’ve become a huge liar since I met Shu. They are little white lies, but I don’t even think twice before I do it now.
“I do miss the days I could eat whatever I wanted without gaining weight,” he responds. “Well. Now is a good time to bring up the topic I’d like to discuss with you and your father.”
I’m not sure what he would possibly want to discuss with me here. I’m not interested in my dad’s agenda—that’s James’ job. The three can coordinate about which politicians they’d like to push off buildings without me.
“I’m not comfortable with Stephanie hearing about my work,” my dad responds.
Antonio waves his hand. “It’s not about that. It’s regarding Stephanie and Shudevil.”
Oh no. I thought this subject was going to be dropped. He can’t bring this up to my father. I’m about to interject when Shu pinches me under the table. I look at him and he gives me a look that tells me it will be a very bad idea to interrupt Antonio Sorrento.
“Shudevil needs to get married and have children. The two are together and like each other, so I’d like to propose the two of them get married.”
Oh god no. The small amount of dinner I ate churns in my stomach as my dad looks at me. He’s pissed.
“You declined dates with Andrew Buchanan, Chip Vanderbilt, and Bradford Van Doren,” my father starts.
Those are sons of his wealthy friends. I met them all at least once before my father tried to set me up with them, and they’re all pigs.
“Yet, you willingly decide to sleep with The Devil. Why is that, Stephanie?”
My face flares. It’s a combination of embarrassment of my dad talking about me having sex and rage for calling Shu The Devil. “Shu is not The Devil.”
“You’re naïve to think that. Do you know the things he does?” My dad doesn’t give me a chance to respond. “He tortures people. Not just men, but women and children. He’ll cut off their body parts piece by piece until he gets what he needs, then set them on fire and walk away.”
“Stop!” I slam my hands on the table, which is very out of character for me.
My dad is about to tear me apart some more when Antonio interjects. “Now, now, Gary. I know this wouldn’t be the life you expected for Stephanie. It’s obvious you want her to marry into a successful family. We are just as successful as your friends, although the way we achieved it is different.”
I see my dad seething at me. He doesn’t even know me, and he met me the moment I entered this world. Who is he to think he knows Shu?
“We like Stephanie very much. I know you’re upset, but please think it over.”
“I don’t care what she decides to do. She hasn’t been able to listen to me since she left med school.”
That was low. He knows why I wanted to leave. Everything I did growing up was his dream, not mine.
“I want to go home.” I turn to Shu, my eyes filled with tears.
He pauses. Shu isn’t sure if should listen to me, Antonio, or my father. His eyes flit to Antonio, but my dad answers.
“Take her,” he points to the door. “You’ll be marrying her. Might as well start listening now, or you can do what I did.”
My dad freezes after he says it. Do what he did? Mom died of a heart attack. My mind flies back six years ago, when dad refused to let me see her body, and had a closed casket funeral.
Mom didn’t die of a heart attack.
He must see the look of realization on my face. “Stephie.”
“Don’t Stephie me,” I screech. “I’m going home.”
I walk to the front door as fast as these heels allow. The clacking starts again, and it pisses me off, so I kick off the shoes and leave them behind. They were just slowing me down anyways.
I rip open the double doors to the mansion. Fuck them. I don’t need any of them. I’m going to walk to a trolley station and go to my apartment, where things are safe and familiar.
I don’t care if I get killed in the process. Anything is better than this. Better than finding out my father killed my mother. Better than a mafia boss forcing me to get married. Better than being watched like a hawk 24/7. Yes, I’m ready to accept death over those three.
The wet lawn squishes between my toes as I storm towards the gate. Stupid giant mansion. It’s going to take me forever just to get off the property.
I’m still pissed when a large pair of arms wrap around me. Shu’s familiar, woodsy scent envelops me, and it only makes me angrier. “Lemme go!”
“No.”
I scratch and bite at his arms, and the taste of his blood fills my mouth. He doesn’t move. I try kicking, stomping on his foot, and elbowing him in the stomach, but nothing works. Shu stands there, not moving, holding me in his arms.
I go from angry to a sobbing mess. Tears stream down my face as he pulls me closer, and I want to keep kicking him, but I can’t. I can only collapse in his arms.
“I’m here,” he murmurs.
I let out a choked sob as he picks me up. “I want to go home. To my real home, not your apartment.”
“Don’t you think Slippers would miss you?”
Ugh. I can’t leave Slippers behind. He’s my baby, and I love him more than anything.
“Probably,” I respond.
“Let’s go to my apartment then.”
I hate him. I hate that he’s not telling me ‘no, you’re not allowed because it’s dangerous.’ I hate that he’s being gentle and kind even though I’m being mean to him.
I love him.
I bury my head in his shoulder as he carries me back to the car. The valet has already pulled it up, and it’s ready for us to go. Shu buckles me into the passenger side without saying anything.
We don’t speak on the drive home. He just holds my hand, massaging circles into my palm.
At dinner, Shu wasn’t shocked when my father implied he killed my mother. The thought circles through my head the entire drive home, until we finally enter the apartment.
“You knew, didn’t you?” I say quietly.
“I did.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
I should be crying. I just found out my father had my mother murdered. But after tonight, I think I’m out of tears.
“It’s not something I’m allowed to tell you.”
I want to ask him more questions, like if he knows who did it. But, if he didn’t tell me, I doubt he’ll offer specifics.
“Ok.”
I walk to my bedroom and shut the door.
Shu
Stephanie won’t talk to me. She won’t even look at me. Every time I try to start a conversation, she’ll give me a two word response and make her way back to her bedroom.
She should hate me. I’ve known her mother’s death wasn’t an accident and kept it from her. That’s an ultimate betrayal from someone who loves you.
I miss her. I need to be with her. I’ve been descending back into the darkness without her in my life. I’ve been doing much more sinister things at work and deriving pleasure from it.
I need to be pulled out. I need to go towards the light.
Help me, Stephanie.
It’s time for her to leave for work and she’s still getting ready. The girl is never late.
Against my better judgement, I knock on the bathroom door. “You ready Steph? You’ll be late for work.”
“Yeah.”
She emerges a couple minutes later. Her face is pale white and there are small beads of sweat on the side of her face. I’d ask if she is sick, but she’s been like this since the night of the dinner. Her body hasn’t responded well to the news of her mother’s death, and father’s presence at dinner.
That dinner. I was one hundred percent for getting married when Antonio said it. Stephanie is a once in a lifetime girl. I will never love anybody else. If I lose her, I’ll end up like Antonio, married to someone for convenience. I don’t want that.
I want Stephanie. Even if it takes months for her to forgive me, I will wait. Until then, there’s nothing else I can do.
“Let’s go,” she says.
She doesn’t talk to me on the ride to work. The girl turns her head towards the window, and I see her eyelids are shut in the reflection of the window.
I have to break the silence. “Tony will pick you up today.”
“Ok.”
She says nothing else, and I feel the dark part in my heart extend. That normal section she’s uncovered is beginning to be covered in black once more.
Please, Stephanie.
We pull up to Flux Productions. The front of the admin building is hustling with corporate workers ready for their day.
“Bye,” she says. The girl doesn’t look at me as she steps out of the car.
“Bye.” The car door slams shut as I say it.
I love you, Stephanie.
* * *
“That sounds like shit,” Taime says.
This is the first time I’ve seen him since the night at Antonio’s. It’s not uncommon for him to leave on ‘business trips.’ He’ll travel to whatever location the target is at and take them out. His last person was high profile and took a little over a week to get to.
“It really is,” I sigh. “She won’t even talk to me.”
“I was talking about when Antonio said you have to get married.”
I glare at him. I’ve already been reduced to a blubbering mess over Stephanie, I don’t need him making fun of me on top of it.
He grins at me, which is rare for him. “I’m sorry. Look. She’ll get over it eventually.”
That’s the best advice he has. I’d know, because that would be the best advice I’d have pre-Stephanie. Our brains are wired to not have sympathy. Stephanie has messed with my circuits, and now I know how to experience it.
“I hope so.”
“Me too. If Antonio says you have to get married, I like her as the choice. I almost had fun the day we went to get you guys a Christmas tree.”
I have a flare of jealousy that Stephanie did anything fun with another guy. I mean, it’s just Taime, and they went because she wanted to surprise me. But I want to be the one to do everything with her.
I’m a mess. It was easier being The Devil than having emotions.
My phone rings and I see her name on the caller ID. She hasn’t willingly contacted me since the day of the mansion scenario.
I pick it up, praying that she’s in a better mood. I’ve begged for forgiveness a lot, so maybe she’s had time to think over my apology.
I hear her screaming on the other end.
Stephanie
I slam the car door as I step out of Shu’s car. I can’t get over the betrayal I feel. He knew how my mother died, but he didn’t tell me. Shu had no problem telling me he loves me, though.
What a joke. There’s no way he loves me, if he blatantly hid that from me. Shu must’ve been lying this whole time. He was scheming with Antonio, trying to figure out the best way for me to marry into the family.
And I fell for it.
I get to my cubicle and my nausea returns. I’ve had it for over a week now. I know what it is in the back of my mind, but maybe if I ignore it, the problem will go away. Yeah, right.
As sick as I feel, I try to get to work. I’m in the middle of processing an invoice when I realize it’s not just a stomachache. I’m really going to throw up.
Shit. I abruptly stand from my cubicle and start to speed walk towards the bathroom. Dear god—or holy spirit, or divine being—please let me hold it until I reach the toilet. I can’t bear the thought of puking on the carpet.
There’s the bathroom. I burst into the first stall and don’t have time to shut the door behind me. I lose all contents of my stomach as I bow down to the porcelain god.
The toilet next to me flushes. Oh no. Someone is in here and heard me throwing up. I want to shut the stall door before they see me, but I’m too busy dry heaving over the bowl.
Ms. Lane walks out of the stall next to mine. Of all hundreds of people on the third floor, it had to be my boss. Life is cruel.
Most people would look disgusted at someone vomiting, but Ms. Lane isn’t normal. They call her ‘The Ice Queen,’ and she’s known for being less than friendly. She stands in front of my stall door, looking completely unphased.
“Are you going home sick, Stephanie?”
I dry heave once more over the toilet. “M’not sick.”
“Oh.” She raises her eyebrow.
I know what she’s thinking. Stephanie Hawthorne is a good girl, the least likely in the department to get pregnant before marriage. But look at me now, dry heaving over the office toilet.
I guess she knows a secret about me, too. But unlike her and Patrick, I won’t be able to hide this secret for long.
“Do you need anything?”
I’m about to tell her no, but my stomach decides it needs to puke once more. I shake my head no at the next round of dry heaving, because I can’t respond to her.
After twenty minutes I’m finally able to leave the bathroom. I should be ok, for now. Food is a no go and I really hope Donovan doesn’t bring garlic bread sticks for lunch, or I will puke on the carpet.
I get back to my desk and find a bottle of water and can of 7up. Maybe Ms. Lane does care.
* * *
I’m in the bathroom, trying to give myself a pep talk. The Amazon package with the test—I can’t say the P word—came today. Tony and I got back to the apartment at around 5:45, and it was sitting on the doorstep, waiting to confirm the results I’ve desperately wanted to know.
At 9:15, I excused myself to the bathroom so I could do it before Shu got home. It’s 9:30 now, and I’m still sitting on the side of the tub. I’ve been too afraid to pee on it.
This will be fine. Maybe I’ve had food poisoning. Or, all the stress from my mom, dad, and Shu is getting to me, and my body can’t take it. Those are perfectly plausible explanations.
I slowly open the box, and the directions fall out onto the floor. I pick them up and read from start to finish. Wait. Will I get pee on my hands if I have to hold it like that? I flip the stick around, trying to figure out the logistics.
This is fine. I repeat it over again in my head as I uncap the stick. I do get pee on my hands.
“Ugh,” I mutter.
I place it flat on the counter and await the results. I scrub my hands as I wait the three minutes, practicing what I’ll say to Shu if it comes back positive. ‘I let you come inside of me, so I’m now pregnant with your child.’ No. ‘So, I take it you want me to get an abortion?’
My stomach sinks. I don’t want to abort Shu’s baby. In fact, I can’t imagine having a baby with anyone else but him. If there were different circumstances with the Antonio-marriage situation, I would have screamed yes.
He’s an asshole for what he did. But that was long before I was in the picture. Fuck. I need to apologize. He needs to apologize too, but I’ll do it first.
I pick up the test, which now reads Pregnant, and my other hand claps over my mouth. Holy shit. I’m really pregnant.
I try to picture myself as a mom. I spin sideways to the mirror and hol
d my hand against my flat stomach. That will be changing soon. I wonder what it will feel like when Shu runs his hand over my round belly, and not my flat one.
Shu. I smile at the thought of him as a dad. How a tiny baby would look even smaller in his arms, because he’s so big. Him rocking the baby to sleep. We could be a tiny little family.
I need to call Shu, now.
I’m about to call him when I hear a loud ‘thump’ noise come from the living room. The unsettled feeling I have in my stomach tells me that whatever it is, it isn’t good.
“Tony?” I ask, opening the bathroom door.
“Go to your room and lock the door.”
The thump noise was an attempt to break down the front door. Whatever they used would’ve broken a normal door the first try, but Shu has his reinforced with steel.
Tony’s crouched behind the sofa and has his gun pointed at the door. “Now, Stephanie!”
I bolt to my room and lock the door. Slippers lounges on my bed and lazily grooms his paws. He’s completely oblivious to the situation, because he’s just a dumb cat.
I grab him and huddle in the corner between my bed and the wall, my tears falling into his fur. He squirms his paw out and resumes licking it. Oh, I wish I could be a cat right now.
There’s a second thump, and I hear the door fly off the hinges and clatter on the floor. Men start to yell in Spanish, and gunfire breaks out in the apartment.
Things don’t sound good. I hear multiple men, and it’s only me and Tony in the apartment. It might as well only be Tony, because I’m useless. I don’t think Shu will be back for at least another hour, so there’s no hope of him saving us.
Shu. I need to tell him. I’ll never have another chance to say ‘I love you’ and I’m happy I would’ve been able to have his child. I clutch Slippers with one hand and shakily dial his number with the other.
Please pick up. Please pick up.
The men burst through my door as he answers. The bang startles me, and I drop my phone and pull Slippers closer.
A Mexican man with green eyes glares at me. They’re hauntingly beautiful—it’s like looking into pools of emeralds. He speaks, and I can tell he’s the boss. His voice has been the one issuing orders in the living room.
