Judith

I’ve been depressed for most of my teenage and adult life and if there’s something I can say about it, it’s that depression is not a good thing.

The first time I was depressed was when I finally understood that everybody loved and preferred my sister over me. She shone so bright that she blinded everybody to me. The second time was when I got punished for the umpteenth time for something Janet had done. The third time was when I went to jail for her. The fourth was when I came out of jail but my life was ruined. The fifth was when I finally made peace with myself that I’d die in that small town. I won’t ever be able to escape from the ridicule of being an ex-convict who could never catch up to her celebrity sister.

Janet presenting me the opportunity to come to the city to take her place had somehow brought me out of that hollow place but now, I’ve been thrown right back into it. Buried deeper than I could pull myself out of.

It’s been what? Five or six days since I got married to Domenico. Since Domenico wrecked my body and Perez told me that Janet had been faking her pregnancy and the whole plot she told me.

I’ve not left my room, not once. The maid I met on the first day had religiously delivered my food three times a day but I had only been able to eat once a day. I spent the whole time wrapped up in my blanket on the bed like a mummy.

I cannot count the number of times I’ve cried. I’ve not taken my bath in days and I’ve vomited exactly four times. I was weak to my bones, I never wanted to leave this bed.

Thankfully, Domenico had not come in search of me because God knows I’d have not been able to keep up with my acting. I’d have given myself away and Domenico would have ended my life for joining hands with my sister to deceive him.

I may not have lived around the mafia or been in communication with one in my life but I knew how gangs worked and mafia was the worst of them all.

I’d married him in front of his men and his uncle. Telling him that I was not my sister would be a slap to his face. It would be the same as shaming and making a fool of him and men like Domenico who oozed out danger from every pores of his body won’t take such a thing lightly.

A knock sounded on my door, drawing me out of my musings but I did not make a sound or lift my head. It was just the maid delivering food. She knocked to signal she was going to come in.

After some seconds, the door opened and she walked in. I expected her to silently take out the food I did not touch in the morning and afternoon and replace it with my dinner but instead, she came to stand at the foot of my bed.

“W..what?” I croaked out through parched throat.

“You need to get up.” She said, staring down at me. I was expecting her expression to be one of mockery, the same that had been on her face the first day I arrived. I was surprised to see that she wore a neutral expression.

“Pardon?”

“Mr. Bianchi expects you to accompany him to an event.”

“When?” I asked, my heart already thudding fast in my chest at the thought of seeing Domenico again after what happened the last time we were together. And after discovering so many things after that.

“Tonight,” she reached down and threw the covers off me.

I shivered, curling into myself as the cool air from the AC hit my skin.

“You didn’t have to do that.” I tried to snap but my voice came out weaker than I expected.

I drew myself into a sitting position and tried to ignore the way she wrinkled her nose. The urge to shit myself out to see if I stink was strong as I threw my legs off the bed and stood before padding barefooted to the bathroom.

“I’d get your clothes ready.” She called out as I locked the bathroom door.

The first hit of the warm water from the shower spray was welcoming and I stood there for some time before I soaped up and sponge and began to bathe and then washed my hair when I was done. My head was blank as I toweled myself dry and walked out.

I expected the maid to be gone but she was there, sitting on the sofa Domenico had occupied the night of our wedding.

“What do you need?” I asked, wanting her to leave me alone so I could fumble my way through searching for the right clothes for this event—whatever the fuck it is— without an audience.

“I’m here to help you get ready.”

Well, since I don’t know what I was doing, her help would be gratefully appreciated. Still, I went on to ask.

“Did Domenico ask you to help me?”

Her brows furrowed as she slowly rose up and walked over to me.

“No.” She said, “You always asked me to help you dress up but if you'd prefer for me to leave, I will.”

“No. No. Please stay,” I said in a rush. Seems like Janet did something right for once.

She reared back as if I’d slapped her and my head swirled with confusion.

“What?”

“Nothing,” But she just watched me with hawklike eyes as she went to plug the blow dryer to help me dry out my hair.

She did everything in silence, safe for the inexplicable glances she kept giving me. She helped with my hair, picked out a beautiful black gown—something I’d have never picked out myself— that was a little loose on me since I was leaner than Janet.

By the time she was done with my makeup, I hardly recognized myself. The look in my eyes was the only recognizable thing about me. Despair and fear.

“Everything is perfect,” she said as her eyes roamed all over my face and body.

I shifted uncomfortably on the high heels. I could not remember the last time I wore heels or even owned a pair.

“This event, what is it about?” I asked while silently praying that she knew about it.

“Ahh, just a little mafia gathering.” She said, “Mr. Bianchi would formally introduce you to the other family as his wife.”

“Alright. Thank you,”

Again, she looked shocked but recovered quickly but her expression remained confused as she nodded.