“Don’t be cruel to her,” she whispered. “She’s scared and sick. Please.”
I looked down at my mother and for the first time I wondered if my father was as gentle with her as I’d always thought. She’d been an orphan when she married him, without autonomy or money. My throat went dry. Perhaps she was more powerless than I’d imagined.
But that didn’t melt my ice.
“You would know a thing or two about cruelty,” I said softly. “You stood by and watched plenty of it happen.”
She drew back like I’d hit her and I shook off her touch and went into the sacristy. I didn’t want to think about the things my father might have done to my mother right now, so I pushed it out of my head and focused on my wife.
Maybe Rosalia was on her period and my mother was just trying to be discreet. I’d fucked women on their periods before and I enjoyed it immensely. Something about the hormones made them so sensitive during both oral and sex and they came easier. Her being on her period didn’t diminish the simmering desire in me at all.
I looked down at my wife, still sleeping on the table. No matter what was wrong with her, I wasn’t going to touch her unless she was ready for it. I might be a monster deep down, but I wasn’t cruel.
She moaned softly, her lids fluttering, and opened her eyes. Someone pressed a paper cup of ice water in my hand as I sat in the chair by the table and pulled her onto my lap. She lay there, just looking up at me.
“You feel alright, Lia?” I asked softly.
She nodded.
“Do you remember where you are?”
“I was in the church,” she said, her voice husky. “I fainted and ruined the wedding.”
“Hush, it’s alright,” I said. “You’re not the first bride to faint.”
She swallowed, lifting her head to look around at our families staring at her. I turned and jerked my head to the door and they all began shuffling out. My mother gave me a severe look as she backed out. Then I was alone with my wife.
I turned her to face me. “My mother shouldn’t have given you her medication.”
“She was trying to help,” she whispered.
“Do you really have a migraine?” I asked. “Or is it your period?”
A pink blush crept up her neck and she swallowed and shook her head. “I’m not supposed to start for a few days, but I can tell it’s going to happen soon because I always get these stupid hormonal migraines.”
“Unfortunate timing.”
“Not the best.”
There was a long silence.
“How are you feeling now?”
She cocked her head, pressing the back of her hand against her cheek. “Not great. My stomach hurts from the meds and my head is spinning. I still have a stabbing pain in my eye, but I think the worst is over.”
“I’m taking you home,” I said.
“I can’t miss the reception,” she insisted.
I sighed, setting her gently on her feet. She leaned against the table, watching me as I paced back and forth, trying to decide what to do. There was a knock at the door and Father Rinaldi put his head in.
“Would you like me to have everyone go on to the reception?” he asked. “You said your vows so you don’t have to finish the rest of the ceremony. I finished the mass and everyone is just waiting.”
“Yes, thank you, Father,” I said quickly. “I think we’ll just go on to the reception if Rosalia feels up to it. Thanks for handling this.”
He nodded and disappeared, leaving me alone with my new wife once more. She folded her arms, her dark eyes accusatory.
“I’ve been dealing with migraines for years, I can make it through the reception,” she declared.