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Maddon , it doesn’t all need to match for Christ’s sake.”
    Maria shoots Vince a glare as I try the cakes. They’re much lighter than the chocolate ones, and also very delicious. I can’t decide. There are too many choices, and I’m starting to get full.
    “I like that one,” Vince says with a mouthful of cake, pointing towards a white one with bits of strawberry.
    “Ah, the champagne and strawberry cake.” Danielle sweeps over to his side. “You’ve got to try more, though.”
    “I don’t need to try any more. I want this one.” He sets down his fork and shoves the piece towards me.
    I pop it in my mouth and immediately taste the champagne soaking the cake. The strawberries add a wonderful light taste to the richness of the alcohol. “I like it, too. We’ll do this one.”
    Danielle looks flustered. “But honey, you haven’t tried all of them yet. You should really—”
    Vince’s face darkens and I know he’s a few seconds from yelling at her, so I cut him off.
    “Danielle, thank you so much for all the choices, but we’ll take this one.”
    Looking slightly appalled, she shrugs and gives a small sigh. “Well, okay. If you’re sure.” She then reaches towards the counter to take a sheet of paper. “Now, we’ll have to talk about the design of the cake.”
    Maria leans forward, “Adriana hasn’t decided what kind of fondant she would like.”
    “Oh, would you like to try some samples?”
    “Sure.”
    Danielle whisks away to the back to get samples and I take the opportunity to lean closer to Vince, who looks vaguely annoyed.
    “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”
    “Nothing, I just have a lot on my mind.” He forces a smile and rubs my back, but as soon as he thinks I’m looking away, his face falls with discontent.
    “Vince, you only get married once. If you didn’t want to come here, you could have just said so.”
    He looks at me sharply. “I do want to be here.”
    Then what’s the problem?
    His face strains as he fights to keep whatever it is inside him.
    “Well, here we are!”
    Danielle returns with a plate of pieces of white and cream colored frosting. I hold one in my hand. It shines under the light.
    “That one is regular fondant.”
    My first thought is that it’s very gummy and sugary. Vince makes a face and I grab for the less shiny, but sticky fondant.
    “That one’s marzipan.”
     The sweet, nutty flavor of almonds explodes over my mouth. It reminds me of those Almond Joy chocolate bars.
    “I like that one.”
    * * *
    The door swings open and slams shut so hard that I can feel the vibrations through my feet. We’re finally back from the cake tasting, and Vince seems to be in a shitty mood. I wait for him to walk closer, to give me a beaming smile as his arm wraps around my waist. My skin tingles in anticipation, and then I get a closer look at him. The look on his face makes the blood drain from my limbs.
    Vince walks past me without a smile or a hint of happiness in his eyes.
    He gets like this sometimes, but I never know why. Since everything that happened, we agreed that the less I know, the better. I don’t particularly want to know everything that he does, anyway.
    It still doesn’t stop me from wondering.
    Vince takes off his leather shoes and hurls them down the hallway. Then he rips off his jacket and throws it on the floor as if it did him personal harm.
    “ Fuck .” His lips mouth the word several more times as he paces back and forth, his dark eyes flashing.
    Okay. That’s a bit more dramatic than usual.
    Then he walks to the freezer, pulls out the bottle of vodka he thinks I don’t know about, and two glasses from the cupboard. He pours two glasses.
    His face steams with rage. The olive-skinned face that I know so well is clenched together. I can see him barely holding it in, probably for my sake. His black, fiery gaze meets mine for a moment and I look away, heart beating fast. He grabs both glasses, pounds one after the other, and then he sinks