Page 7 of Their Little Anzerine
Though in truth, it’s not hiding anything. When I saw myself in the mirror right before the wedding, I nearly fainted. I’m well aware that I’m chubby, but this dress makes me look ten times larger. It’s not necessary. I think my mother-in-law made me wear this hideous dress so that I would look like a laughingstock, and it worked. It wasn’t until the last minute when the dress was zipped on me that I discovered she must have added several more layers of gaudy fabric to make me look even uglier.
I heard people chuckling all around the church during the ceremony. They were laughing at me. My face was heated the entire time. I wanted a crack to open up in the floor and swallow me whole.
Skarg’s hand spreads on my naked back. “This dress is giving you anxiety, Baby girl. Please let us get it off you and remove it from your line of sight.”
I nod. “Okay, but can I have a T-shirt or something?”
Kafran grips my thighs. “We’ll never let you cover yourself or hide from us, Little one. I know it seems odd to you right now, but eventually you’ll get used to our customs.”
I’m on an emotional roller coaster, probably from exhaustion. I haven’t slept well for several nights, worrying about today. Last night, I didn’t sleep at all. Just a minute ago, I was laughing. Now tears are falling again. I can’t stop them.
Skarg kisses the top of my head. Well, he tries to anyway. I can hear the peck of his lips, but my hair is in a ridiculous updo that prevents him from getting his mouth near my scalp.
“Talk to us,” Kafran says gently.
I let out a sob. “They were laughing at me.” The words tumble from my lips before I can stop them.
“Who was laughing at you, Baby girl?” Skarg asks.
“The people in the church,” I mutter, hiccupping.
“Your friends?” Kafran flinches.
I’m holding the dress tightly to my chest as I look at him. “Friends?” Another sob comes out. “I don’t have friends,” I inform him.
“What do you mean, Baby girl?” Skarg asks, rubbing my back. The only thing between his fingers and my skin is my bra strap. Even my bra is ugly. I didn’t pick it either. A woman should have pretty lingerie on her wedding day. My mother-in-law didn’t think it was necessary. She told me it wouldn’t matter. I should remove my clothes tonight and be waiting under the covers for my husband. The thought makes me shudder again, even now.
“Weren’t your friends at your wedding?” Kafran encourages.
I shake my head, which hurts because of all the stupid pins holding my hair up. Holding the dress with one hand against my breasts, I lift the other to adjust the place on my head that’s pulling.
Skarg grabs my fingers and kisses them. “How about if I take all these pins out of your hair while you tell us more about your situation, Baby girl. Tell us everything.”
I use my free hand to swipe at the tears again, sniffling. I think it would be best if I just gave them the abridged version of my life up until now. Otherwise they’re going to keep asking questions out of order until they know everything anyway. They’re persistent, and no one has paid this much attention to me since my grandmother was alive.
True to his word, Skarg is meticulously removing every pin from my hair. Each time he pulls one out, it’s like a pound is lifted off my head. Maybe by the time he’s done, I’ll float across the room.
Taking a big breath, I swallow my tears and dive in. “To put it bluntly, I was born into the mafia.”
Kafran nods as if I just told him I was heading to the store for eggs.
“Do you know what the mafia is?”
He shrugs. “We get the gist, Little one. Powerful families that rival each other for territory and money.”
I’m surprised. “Yeah, basically that’s it. Anyway, my parents were murdered when I was four.”
Both men gasp. Kafran’s eyes go wide. “I’m so sorry, Little one.”
I shrug. “It was sixteen years ago. I barely remember them.”
“Who raised you?” Skarg asks as he continues to lighten my load metaphorically.
“My grandmother, sort of. The problem is that I had been promised to my future husband when I was about three years old. So my future in-laws took me in. They reluctantly let my grandmother come with me. She took care of me and tried to give me as normal a life as possible, but the reality is we were basically prisoners in that mansion. She died when I was twelve, which left me alone in the world, living in a house where nobody paid me any attention.”
“Why would they take you in and then ignore you?” Kafran’s brow is furrowed.
“Family blood lines and stuff I don’t understand.”
