The Housemaid’s Wedding: A Short Story
The Housemaid’s Wedding: EPILOGUE

Millie and I are married. This is the greatest day of my life.

I have had many bad days. Too many to count. I have watched my sister murdered. I was with both my parents at their deathbeds. There are so many days I wish to erase from my memory. But not this day. This day is perfect.

Nothing will ruin it for us.

Millie—my wife!—is still shaking as we hold hands leaving the chapel. She can’t stop smiling, and all I can think is that I want to get her home—now. I am glad I have my car because I do not want to wait for the subway. She loves that blue dress, but it takes everything I have not to rip it off her. I almost can’t breathe when I think about it.

“What are you thinking?” she says to me.

Is she kidding with me? “You know what I am thinking.”

She grins even wider. I am sorry for what her parents did to her and for the awful things they said to me, warning me not to marry this wonderful woman because she is “dangerous.” They said such terrible things. I will never, ever repeat those words to my wife for the rest of our lives.

Millie will hurt you. She can’t control herself. She may cost you your life someday.

They do not know my Millie at all. They do not deserve to be part of our family.

“So.” Millie squeezes my hand. “Should we go home?”

Something catches my attention at the side of the room. My eyes snap up for a split second, but before she can notice, I focus my gaze back on Millie. I need to pretend I did not see what I just saw, but I also need to take care of it. This is more urgent than anything we will do in the bedroom. There is a lifetime for that.

“Just a minute,” I tell her. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Millie says she needs to do the same, so we part ways. I disappear into the men’s room, which is small and seems empty except for a thin man in his forties with dark-brown hair wearing a T-shirt and jeans, who is using the urinal. Very quickly, I check under all the stalls, but I do not see signs that anyone else is in here. We are alone, this man and me.

So I return to the restroom door and turn the lock.

The thin man zips up his fly and washes his hands at the sink. I allow him a moment to finish rinsing off the soap before I come up behind him, grabbing him by the collar with my left fist. I then slam him against the bathroom wall so hard that his head makes a resounding clunk.

The man’s brown eyes widen with surprise and fear. He tries to claw at my hand holding his collar, but it is a sad attempt. This scrawny man has no chance of loosening my grip. I will not release him until I am done.

“What are you doing?” he gasps.

“I saw you,” I say in a low, even voice. I do not want him to know how angry I am. I want to rip him limb from limb, but I cannot do that. Not here or now. “I saw you following us since we were at the cafe.”

“I… I wasn’t…”

“Do not lie.” I draw back my right hand and slam it into his nose. Bone crunches underneath my fist. “Tell me why you were following us.”

Blood spills from the man’s nostrils, and he grabs his nose to staunch the flow. “I didn’t…”

“Next I break your fingers.”

“Okay!” The man’s lips tremble in fear. “Your girlfriend convinced my wife to leave me and take my kids too. Millie helped her, and… and she ruined my life. You know how much child support is costing me? That bitch took me for everything. Your girlfriend deserves to pay.”

“That is not my girlfriend—that is my wife.” It’s the first time I have said those words out loud. I am sorry it has to be to this dirtbag. “I do not know what Millie did, but your wife is better off without you.” I lower my voice. “And if you do not stay away from my wife, I swear to God that I will break every single bone in your body. Capisci?”

The man gapes at me. “But she—”

“Every bone in your body,” I repeat, “if you so much as breathe on Millie Accardi ever again. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” he manages. “Yes… I… yes, I’ll stay away.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes. I promise!”

“Good.” I level my gaze at him. “Because I will keep my promise too. If you go anywhere near her, I will break every bone in your body, one by one. And if you hurt her…” I pause just long enough for the fear to flicker in his eyes. “I will kill you.”

With those words, I slam him hard against the bathroom wall again, this time hard enough to knock him out. His body goes limp, and I let him fall to the floor.

The next thing I do is check his back pocket. It contains his wallet. I remove his driver’s license, which has his name and address, and I keep that because I want him to know I have it. I toss the wallet on the floor with the rest of his money and credit cards. If someone else takes it, that is not my problem. It is less than what he deserves.

He is already waking up, blinking his unfocused eyes as he groans with pain. I did not hit him hard enough that he will not remember our conversation. But I will pay him a visit as a reminder. I have his home address now.

Last, I wash the blood off my knuckles at the sink. I do not want Millie to know what I have just done. I cannot upset her—it has already been a difficult day for her without knowing a man has been following us all morning. I have taken care of it. I will not let this ruin our wedding day.

I will protect her. As long as I live and breathe, nobody will ever hurt her or our children.

When I get out of the bathroom, Millie is waiting for me. She smiles at me. “You took a long time in there! You’re usually so much faster than me in the bathroom.”

It would not do to tell her I took a little longer because I had to break a man’s nose and threaten his life. “I am sorry.”

“By the way…” She fingers my sister’s pin on her chest. I truly believe part of my sister’s spirit is in that butterfly pin, and because Millie wore it, Antonia was here with us today. I felt her presence, and it made me smile. “I was thinking a little more about baby names.”

Millie never likes my ideas for names, although I am mostly joking in my suggestions. It is still early, and we have much time to decide. “Oh yes?”

“Yes.” She nods. “I thought… maybe we could name our daughter after Antonia?”

I suck in a breath. I would love to honor my sister, but I also worry that giving her the same name will be too much. I can barely say her name without feeling a deep sadness that she left us much too young.

“Not the same exact name,” Millie quickly amends, reading my face, “but something similar. To honor her. Like… Allison. Or Ada.”

“Yes.” I put my arms around my wife, drawing her close. “I like that.”

And then I go home with my wife and unborn child, leaving the man who threatened us in a puddle of his own blood on the men’s room floor.