You were my sweet, loving wife. We had gotten married about 5 months ago and have been traveling a lot since it was one of your dreams. Soon after we had gotten back, my family had wanted to see me. Do right now we were at dinner with my family. My mafia family.

I like to think that I make it pretty obvious how much I don't like my family. They were corrupt and heartless. One thing you taught me was how to be a better person, and sometimes I like to think that I am and I'm not anything like my family. I'm the man you deserve.

We had a dessert buffet that was set out of us after dinner. I'm busy talking to someone else, so you grab two plates. One for you and the other, obviously for me. I hear my mom snickering at you, "Are you sure you need that much dessert honey?" She thought she was quiet about it, but she wasn't. I watch a wave of hurt cross over your face as you look down at your body. And I absolutely hated it.

Others laughed, but it didn't last for long. I slam my hands on a nearby table, "anyone else want to laugh at my wife? Because I'm case you forgot I'm the head of this mafia. Which also means I can boot every single one of you out, which will leave a huge target on your back. So it might be wide for all of you to shut the hell up," everyone went dead silent.