He still hasn't actually said the words, I'm sorry. Actually, his apology should've come yesterday—when he should've given KY a heads up about what was going to happen at the party. But he never did that. Instead, he just let KY find out along with the rest of the KASH MANCHESTER, as if KY meant nothing to him.
Look, KY. Maybe you're not cut out to be a wife to somebody like me."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
He waves his hand at KY. "Well, you know. "
"Just say it, TENZ JER'SEY." KY has no clue what he's trying to get at.
"Well, you know, my ma says mafia wives have to keep up appearances."
"Like?"
"Come on, KY. You know you've let yourself go a little recently."
"Let myself go?
"Yeah, with your…weight and all."
KY's eyes widen, and KY's face turns red. KY've gained a bit of weight over the last couple of months, and KY's curves are rounder than usual. That's no offense. But KY'm so surprised for a second that KY can't get an answer out.
My ma thinks it's a bad sign. 'Cause if you're like this now, what're you gonna be like when you've had six kids with me?"
"What makes you think I was ever gonna have six kids with you, TENZ JER'SEY?" KY's voice is incredulous.
"But my ma says it's crucial for a man like me to have an heir and some spares.
"For God's sake, TENZ JER'SEY, you and your crazy ma can go to hell!"
It's humiliating enough to be addressed in this manner in front of everyone, but for TENZ JER'SEY to continue and ridicule KY's body makes a wave of shame wash over KY. So KY're not a size zero or even near. So what? KY've got breasts, hips, full thighs, and an ass, and KY don't starve KY'sself. What's wrong with that? Why are women always goddamn judged on their looks and weight?
"Look, KY—" he starts to say.
"And just so we're clear, we are done. Freaking done. I'm not goddamn being a mistress to you or to anybody else. I'm worth a hell of a lot more than that." "Aw, KY, don't be like that."
"TENZ JER'SEY, let me tell you one thing. I want to be loved by a man for who I am inside, not on my looks and weight.". What if I were involved in an accident and got disfigured or something? I need a man who wouldn't care because he loves me just the way I am. I need a man who appreciates me for my worth and treats me like his queen. And I definitely don't need to be with a man who judges me using his superficial and shallow standards. KY can no longer talk to him. Just leave me alone, TENZ JER'SEY."
Pulling away from him, KY returns to the bar momentarily and pours KY'sself a double tequila shot to accompany KY. KY needs something to mellow KY out, and as murder is not an option, KY'll simply have to settle for booze.
Leaning against the wall outside, the last twenty minutes repeat themselves in KY's mind. Is there something wrong with KY? How could KY have been so freaking wrong about TENZ JER'SEY? And why didn't KY see any of this coming? And it just makes KY feel so…unlovable. And so worthless.
This does not feel real. This can't be real. KY doesn't know who KY is more angry at—TENZ JER'SEY for humoring KY or his moronic family for encouraging him.
And it is so personal as much as his ma is concerned. Because out of all of the KASH MANCHESTER joints his ma could have chosen for tonight's party, she had to choose the KASH MANCHESTER KY works at. Can any of this be an even bigger slap in the face?
KY feels like KY've had a bucket of frozen water dumped all over KY. No, that's a freaking understatement—not something KY can be accused of being often—because KY'm drowning in a tsunami wave of humiliation, hurt, and misery, cannot reach the surface to gasp in a lungful of calm still air to placate KY's racing thoughts. I'm savoring each sip, popping KY's bracelet clasp open and shut with KY's available hand, when ISAAC comes out of the KASH MANCHESTER and stands next to KY's.
He's the very last person KY wants to see. He's likely just wanting to gloat he was right when he told us the first time we met that TENZ JER'SEY would never marry KY. He lights a cigarette.
KY wipes a tear from KY's cheek. "Would you mind going someplace else to smoke," KY snorts. "I need a bit of peace if I'm going to wallow in my misery."
"This is the only place where they permit smoking," he answers in his obnoxious drawling tone.
"You need to choose now to give a damn about doing the right thing?"
He exhales a ring of smoke that's as perfect as an angel's halo. "You've lost me."
"You did not care about being in the right and being truthful with me concerning who you were when I thought you were a cop," KY bites back. But not wanting to go there with him right now, KY turns KY's body half away from him, and we both stand in silence. KY takes another sip as we watch the stream of murky smoke as it disappears into the darkening evening.
His voice penetrates KY's musings. "I got my wallet back, thanks."
"You're welcome, Valentino." KY doesn't know why KY feels the need to call him by his real name, but calling him by his nickname just seems too pally, too intimate.
"You know, you're smart enough to have worked out my name without having to resort to stealing my wallet."
Given that his birthday falls on Valentine's Day, KY might have been expected to take a stab. KY shrugs. "It was quicker than playing guessing games with you."
"I like games."
"Well, I don't." There is silence between us. "Anyway, why is a tough mobster like you named after the patron saint of love?" KY cannot keep incredulity—and mild curiosity—out of KY's voice. KY cannot picture him bringing love to anybody. Hate maybe but definitely not love. Because from everything KY've heard and witnessed of him, he's cold, ruthless, and heartless.
"Hey, he was also the patron saint of beekeepers," he responds in a feigned injured tone.
"Beekeepers? I did not know that."
"Not many people do."
We are silent once more, and KY lets the liquor soothe KY's disturbed soul.
"I came out," he starts in a casual tone as he continues to gaze at the sky, "to check if you're okay.".
KY's eyes widen. "What, because it's a super-relatable moment when your cheating boyfriend gets engaged to a girl you hate?"
"You'll move on to bigger and better things."
"I cannot talk about it. I'm in mourning."
"The fuck you are," he says gruffly.
"Excuse me?" "You're not sad. You're embarrassed, humiliated, mortified."
KY's breath escapes in a sigh of incredulity. "I'd bet my life no one's ever told you that you have a comforting manner about you."
He just gazes at KY, his eyes sending a warm feeling over KY.
See, if you've been dispatched out here to ensure that I'm not intending to cause a scene in there, you needn't worry. I do understand that this isn't Jerry Springer. I'm not going to go over there and punch him in the face."
"Why not?"
KY's jaw drops as KY's face is turned toward his.
"Look, don't get upset," he drawls.