Dinner on Friday

6. Carla

NO SECRETS

My father was a lawyer and I could never tell when he was lying.

On a warm summer day in Haiti, the sweet scent of ripe mangoes permeating the air around our blue little house while cows grazed in a meadow nearby, he told me that he protected people because he believed they were innocent and wanted to keep them out of jail.

I believed him. I was six then, but my age was irrelevant. This was about the fact that he lied to me and not about how gullible I was at the time.

As I grew older, I quickly realized that it didn't matter whether you were innocent or not for a lawyer to represent you.

Every man, woman, and child had a right to a lawyer even if they were caught red-handed on camera killing the president of Russia in his sleep, their DNA splattered around his bedroom and on the murder weapon.

It turned out, my father's purpose wasn't to keep the innocent out of jail but to keep the guilty who lined his pockets with drug money on the streets and not behind bars.

The lie and the betrayal that followed would stay with me forever. On the other hand, if he had told me the truth, it would have hurt, but only for a moment.

A scowl marred Dante's handsome face as he mulled my question over. He had never lied to me until recently when he told me that he was going to the gym and not the gun range.

Although I didn't know what to expect from him right now, I knew deep down in my unlovable little heart that he valued me and our marriage enough to tell me the truth.

"Hear me out," he said, and I watched his usually artic expression struggling beneath the weight of his unsaid words.

"I'm listening."

His shoulders relaxed a little at my soft tone, but his jaw remained tense as if the words were stuck in his throat like rust on worn-out pipes.

"Babes, tell me already," I urged.

He licked his lips and looked me dead in the eye. "You're not going to like this."

"Uh uh, I figured that part out already."

"This one-" He pointed at the older paper sitting on the coffee table before us. "-was sent on our wedding day. I found it on the dresser in the villa we were staying at for our honeymoon."

My brows drew together in confusion. Our wedding was a year ago.

Gradually, confusion gave way to anger, which coiled in my chest like a snake waiting to strike. My face heated as I fought to rein in my tongue.

And failed.

"Are you kidding me? You've had this threatening piece of paper for a whole year? You knew about this for a year and you didn't tell me jack shit about it?"

"Carla," he said sternly, warning me to watch my tone.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down, but it was harder than I anticipated.

"You... Oh my god. Why? Why would you keep something like that from me?" My voice cracked against my will but I kept on going. "Someone wants me dead and you didn't think it was important to share that with me?"

"You are the most important person in my life. I made vows to protect you, and that's what I've been doing. You've been living life carefree for the last two years. You were safe."

"What about the vows you took promising to always communicate with me? What about honesty?"

His eyes narrowed, the green specks within turning into ice. "I'm being honest with you now."