SHE LOCKED US IN WITH A MONSTER

I stared at the old envelope.

Written on the front, in Anna’s elegant cursive, were three words: To His Savior.

My hands shook as I broke the seal.

Inside was a single, folded sheet of stationery.

If you are reading this, it means you saved my husband from the darkness of his family. I always knew Salvatore’s heart was too good for the world his father built. But I also knew he would never leave it unless he was forced to.

Attached to this letter is the deed to a property in the South Side. I bought it in secret years ago. It was meant to be a free medical clinic. A place to heal people, instead of hurting them.

If he is alive to see this, tell him I love him. And please, take care of him. He is terrible at asking for help.

I covered my mouth as tears spilled over my eyelashes.

I looked up at Salvatore. He was watching me, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“She bought a clinic,” I whispered.

“She always wanted to be a nurse,” Salvatore smiled sadly. “My father wouldn’t allow it. Said it was beneath the family.”

He stepped closer to me.

“The feds took my illicit assets,” Salvatore said softly. “But that deed is clean. It belongs to you now, Ellen. You can build whatever you want.”

“What will you do?” I asked, suddenly terrified that he was saying goodbye.

“I have a little money put away legally,” he said, looking down at his hands. “I thought I might learn how to manage a clinic’s finances. If the owner is hiring.”

My heart skipped a beat.

I looked at this large, intimidating man who had just dismantled his entire life to do the right thing.

“You’d have to take orders from me,” I warned him, managing a watery smile.

“I’ve been taking orders from you since the day you ripped that blanket off me,” Salvatore chuckled softly.

He reached out, gently wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb. His touch was warm and incredibly gentle.

“Stay with me, Ellen,” he whispered. “Please.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Salvatore.”

Six months later.

The Anna DeLuca Memorial Clinic opened its doors in September. It was a massive success.

Salvatore sat behind the front reception desk, wearing reading glasses and a soft gray sweater, arguing politely with a vendor on the phone about the price of sterile bandages.

I stood in the hallway, holding a clipboard, watching him. He looked happy. Completely transformed. Rosa lived with him now, and Anthony visited every weekend. The poison of the past was truly gone.

But as I watched him, I noticed something.

He rubbed his chest, wincing slightly. His breathing was shallow.

I frowned, walking over to the desk. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he smiled, pulling the glasses off. “Just heartburn.”

I didn’t believe him. I grabbed my stethoscope from around my neck. “Sit up.”

“Ellen, I’m fine.”

“Sit up.”

He sighed, unbuttoning the top of his sweater. I placed the bell of the stethoscope against his chest.