Chapter 3 - THE FIRST PAGE OF THE DIARY
Damian Romano had faced armed rivals without trembling.
He had watched fortunes collapse and enemies plead for mercy.
But the first page of my diary made his hands go cold.
It was dated five years earlier.
The morning after our wedding.
April 12.
I woke up beside my husband today.
He was asleep, and for ten minutes I watched the sunlight move across his face.
I have never felt so lucky.
Everyone says Damian is dangerous. Maybe he is.
But last night, when I told him I was frightened of becoming part of his world, he held my hands and promised that I would never have to earn my place beside him.
He said I could always tell him the truth.
I believed him.
Damian sat on the edge of the bed.
He remembered that morning.
I had worn one of his white shirts.
He had burned breakfast.
We had laughed in the kitchen until his mother called to complain that we hadn't answered our phones.
He remembered kissing flour from my cheek.
He remembered thinking he had finally found someone who saw the man beneath the reputation.
He turned the page.
June 3.
Olivia said my dress looked cheap at dinner.
Damian told me not to take everything personally.
I know she is having a difficult year. I wish she liked me.
August 19.
I tried to tell Damian I missed working at the community arts center.
He said the Romanos don't need their wives taking small jobs.
He meant it as a compliment.
I think.
November 8.
I asked if we could spend Christmas with my aunt.
His mother cried.
Damian said family loyalty matters.
I apologized.
Damian stopped.
He remembered every conversation differently.
He had thought he was protecting me from gossip.
Giving me comfort.
Providing a life where I would never have to worry about money.
But the diary described something else.
A woman slowly losing the right to choose.
He turned another page.
February 14.
Damian sent two hundred roses.
He was away on business.
I ate dinner alone.
I know I should be grateful.
I am grateful.
I just wish he had called.
Damian swallowed.
He remembered the roses.
He'd paid nearly ten thousand dollars for them.
He'd considered the gesture generous.
He hadn't called because he was busy.
He turned another page.
March 2.
I told Damian I felt lonely.
He said loneliness was a luxury problem.
I laughed because he laughed.
Then I went upstairs and cried.
Damian closed his eyes.
He remembered saying that.
He'd been irritated after a difficult meeting.
He hadn't meant to hurt me.
That had become his defense for everything.
I didn't mean it.
As though intention erased damage.
He kept reading.
Hours passed.
Outside, the fog thickened.
Downstairs, the household staff began preparing dinner.
Damian didn't notice.
Then he reached the entry about the winter benefit.
December 6.
Olivia changed the catering date.
When the company canceled, she begged me not to tell Damian.
She said he would be furious.
I found replacements.
I paid the additional charges from my personal account.
When the reporters asked who made the mistake, I said it was mine.
Olivia hugged me afterward.
She said she would never forget what I had done.
Damian stared.
He remembered Olivia crying in his office.
He remembered accusing me of embarrassing his mother.
He remembered refusing to speak to me for four days.
He had never asked for my version.
He turned the page.
December 10.
Damian spoke to me today.
He asked if I'd learned my lesson.
I said yes.
I don't know what lesson he meant.
Damian put a hand over his mouth.
Then he turned to the next entry.
December 11.
Olivia invited me to lunch.
She joked about how easy it is to make Damian believe something when he's already angry.
I laughed.
I think I am becoming very good at laughing when nothing is funny.
Damian stood abruptly.
The diary fell open on the bed.
He walked to the window.
The sea was almost invisible through the fog.
For the first time, he wondered how many times he had mistaken my silence for happiness.
Then his eyes returned to the diary.
Five years.
May you like
Hundreds of pages.
And he had only begun.
