Chapter 13: Carmine

When she sat down on the couch, I was initially uncomfortable, but when she sat so far away, I relaxed. Having her this close was more than I had anticipated. We were supposed to sit across the table from each other, our hands neatly folded in front of us, our faces relaxed and calm. I would tell her a little about my life with Jerry and what I was doing and then she would begin to tell me how she had been and what she had been doing. Maybe some information on Ruben's life and ... Well, that's what should have happened. What actually happened was that she blurted out, "Carmine, I'm so sorry for what I did to you. Can you ever forgive me?"

Now, what was I supposed to do with that? How was I going to handle that? I had forgotten all of that years ago. I went to jail, but that was my decision and had little to do with her actions. Hell, I would have stayed and tried to work everything out if I hadn't lost it and almost killed that Hugo guy. I knew I had given her ample chances to do what she did. Working all those hours, leaving the raising of our son to her, running the house and living alone without a husband more often than not. And when I had a chance to change my lifestyle to one similar to what I was doing now, she let me turn it down. Why? Because she believed I wanted to!

Of course, she shouldn't have done it at all but I had given her reason. I wasn't the type to say, "Divorce the slut! Kick her cheating ass out! Look at me: I'm so perfect! I could never do what she did." Sure, I could have done that: I could have been a hypocrite and done the high and mighty thing. She had cheated, yes, but so what? We could deal with it. I loved her and I believe she loved me so there had to be a reason for her doing what she did. I never asked her to explain it. And why would I destroy the home my son had come into and was an integral part of? Why would I break up our family? Because of my pride? My macho feelings? Maybe some would, but I loved my son and I loved my wife so what would give me the right to destroy all of that for my own pride?

She was looking at me with a look of surprise on her face. Her words must have surprised her as much as they did me. I had to answer her. I had to say something. I closed my mouth and tried to find the words that would answer her question.

I mentally shrugged my shoulders and thought to myself, "just go with it and see what happens." I put my cup down, leaned toward her and said, "I forgave you years ago, Nan. I didn't go to jail to punish you: it was to punish myself for what I did. You have to understand that. I went to jail because I almost killed a man. Regardless of what he did, no man deserves to die for that, and if you hadn't stopped me, I would have killed him."