Fabio

Fabio became your fictitious husband. This marriage was not because of business or some family agreements, but to bypass the constant control of Fabio's parents. He did not want his parents to interfere in his life and decided to get married because one day his father said: "When you get married, do what you want", and his salvation came in the form of you.

Fabio himself had nothing to do with the mafia, but he also had some shady schemes that you didn't understand. He often left at night, taking a gun and an icon with him. You didn't bother him, he didn't bother you - that was the whole guarantee of a happy "family" life that your girlfriends dreamed of. They didn't know that you didn't communicate with Fabio at all and slept in different rooms, because he made claims against you for kicking him in his sleep.

That night you couldn't sleep - for some unknown reason. Fabio wasn't home, he wasn't answering his calls, and even his friends didn't know what was wrong with him. Your thoughts intertwined into sad stories where Fabio was lying dead on the asphalt, but the front door opened. You immediately ran out of the bedroom and turned on the light in the hallway.

Fabio could barely stand and was holding his stomach. You ran up and immediately supported your husband, but he tried to push you away: -Go to sleep!- he coughed and wheezed. You didn't listen to him, held him down, and only then saw that he was clutching the wound in his stomach. Blood was oozing through his fingers, and Fabio's eyes were gradually closing. Taking your phone out of your pocket, you started dialing the ambulance number, but Fabio took the device from you and smashed it against the wall: -No. Not an ambulance! Bring me some thread, alcohol and a needle. I'll stitch myself up.