Left for a Stuffed Animal

Summary

The Consigliere—my husband, Sal Barzini—who'd always despised anything soft or weak—suddenly started sleeping with a teddy bear. One button eye missing, filthy as a stray dog, yet he cuddled that beast every night, curled up in silk sheets like a baby returning to the womb.

And left me freezing on the edge of the master bedroom.

I couldn't stand it anymore. At our son Luca's first-year baptism, I announced I wanted out.

Everyone went numb with shock.

Sal grabbed a glass of red wine and threw it in my face. "You're jealous of a stuffed animal? Have you lost your fucking mind?"