Chapter Thirty-Six: For Me.

"What has you holding a pan over my head, cara?"

Matteo presses the question as he dabs the corners of his lips with his napkin.

I had given my answer in passing earlier by the door, but I don't think I can avoid it anymore, especially now that he has eaten and is perhaps energised enough for an argument, should I avoid the topic at hand any longer.

When I take too long to answer, he turns to the half-empty glass of wine next to me.

"I thought you didn't want to drink. Is it because tomorrow is a weekend? You remember we are going golfing, right?"

"I do, I do, I just...It's fine."

"Not very convincing; try again.”

He says in a dull tone as his tongue circles his mouth before he looks at me again.

"Does your drinking have anything to do with the pan?"

"A dead body fell on top of me; I'm still processing things."

I answer, and he nods.

"What about you? You look tired, Matteo.”

"Some nights I don't sleep well."

"You slept fine with me."

I shrug before realising he said ‘some nights’, ma