Love Isn't Real- A mafia romance<3

XXXIII》 I W I S H

"Baby, what do you mean he didn't become a leader because of his wife?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"B-because" that was the first time he had ever stuttered in front of me.

"Because his wife was shot. Shot by the spanish. After her funeral, he didn't speak to anyone. His walls grew bigger and bigger, and he killed. He killed so many. He killed cartel owners - he started war on sex traffickers - I mean, we all want to, but we can't. That's what the mafia is. He went crazy."

He cries, I get out from the covers and pull him up from the chair, hugging him.

"Let's let's just sleep."

We both lay in the bed. His grip on me is tight, scary - almost.

I stare at the ceiling.

I know something is up with him.

__________________
his pov:

I spent the morning working out - trying to clear my head.

Things have been getting worse ever since I had to invite my brother.

I don't want him there - nor my parents.

They will have to go, though.

I keep going back to that night when we were both teenagers.

Romano was away. Mother and father were away.

It was just us.

Me and him.

We both sat on the balcony, the dark night doing little to light up our faces.

He smoked beside me, the smoke used to make me feel ill. I never liked smoking or drinking or drugs.

I always thought it was dirty.

He told me, 'it doesn't matter. Everyone does it.'

We would sometimes sit like this. the radiohead would play quietly out of his speaker.

He told me he couldn't eat or get out of bed or even want to speak to people.

I never understood.

That night, that moon, I found out everything.

I found out about the affair my father had with my brothers girlfriend - yes, you heard that right.

I heard about my mother's attempt at suicide.

He always told me I'd understand one day.

I'd understand why his head was so fucked up, and how he never wants me to take over this mafia. He told me I could go and do what I want.

He told me to ignore my father and to love a woman.

Never to hurt her.

But what did I do?

I must have forgotten.

I wish I never told him how I thought he was amazing.

I wish he never grabbed that knife and stabbed me.

I wish he never told me that one day I would feel the same thing but in the back, in the back from my wife, my best friend, from everyone.

I wish he was okay.

I wish Rachael was never killed.

Maybe she could've fixed him.

When they met, he was better. He took his medication, and he loved her.

He lived for her.

I wish I knew how to communicate my feelings.

I wish I was a better man.