The Don Who Never Meant What He Said

At the Thanksgiving dinner, Raphael's assistant Daphne was sitting in my seat.

I frowned at Raphael. “Why is she in the Donna's seat? Doesn’t she know, and don’t you?”

Raphael clicked his tongue, impatient.

“You're the one who showed up late. People sit where they want. If it bothers you, leave.”

I opened my mouth to argue, and his thoughts reached me before I could.

[Scarlett, get angry. Fight back.]

[Tell me you're my wife, the Donna of the Sterling family, that no one else has the right to sit at my side.]

[Prove you love me. It's the only thing that makes me feel safe.]

This time, I didn't give his thoughts what they were begging for.

I slid the wedding ring off my finger instead.

“That's the Donna's seat. If you've decided she belongs in it, I won't argue.”

“Let's get divorced.”

The ring landed on the table and bounced once in front of him.

Raphael went pale.

Even his family, who had been watching the show, traded uneasy looks.

Seven years.

I had endured a life like this for seven full years.

Raphael loved to humiliate me in front of people, then wait for me to swallow my pride and come and coax him back.

Every single time, I did exactly what his thoughts asked. I came to him, and I made up first.

It was not only because I could hear what he truly thought, and knew the sick shape of what he needed.

It was also because he was the Don, and I had to uphold that absolute, unquestioned authority of his.

After a while, his family stopped noticing.

They would laugh and tease us. “A sadist and a masochist. You two really do deserve each other.”

So when the word divorce came out of my mouth, Raphael's sister Serena hurried over to talk me down.

“Scarlett, are you just in a bad mood today? You know how he is. He always says the opposite of what he means.”

Raphael's brother Ron kept a straight face and spread his hands.

“Thanksgiving is a family holiday. You can be upset, but don't joke about divorce.”

I crossed my arms and gave a cold laugh.

“Oh? So you know it's a family holiday. Then is Daphne family too?”

Serena and Ron went stiff and said nothing.

Bang!

Raphael slammed his fist on the table and shot to his feet. “Scarlett, are you done? Daphne is my guest!”

“Divorce? Fine. Fine!” He ground the words through his teeth. “Get out! Get out right now!”

For all the thunder in that shout, his thoughts sounded like a kicked puppy.

[Divorce? Scarlett, you said you'd love me your whole life. It's only been seven years.]

[Darling, please don't leave me. Without you I'll fall apart.]

I spent a full decade swallowing these conflicting emotions all alone.

When I first met him, I already knew he carried a deep emotional disorder and a bottomless sense of inferiority.

He couldn't say what