chrmdboss (chrmdboss) wrote,
chrmdboss
chrmdboss

That's Amore...

He awoke to find her absentmindedly twisting her wedding band around her finger. Taking her hand in his, he couldn't help but admire the simple platinum bands that told the world they were husband and wife.

"Morning Mrs. Micelli, a penny for your thoughts?"

Before saying a word, she angled her face toward his; capturing his lips in a kiss that succeeded in captivating him.

Their rings became only a momentary, worldly distraction as he succumbed to the kiss; her signature, which he knew was reserved only for him.

"I guess I'll be leaving the alarm clock unplugged more often; with a wake up kiss like that, who needs it...and ya even managed to sneak out of bed and brush your teeth too," he said; still tasting the fresh minty flavor lingering on his breath.

"You sly little---Do I dare ask what's on your mind?" Grinning, he prepared himself for a game of suggestive wordplay with his wife.

"I received a letter from Dr. Bellows yesterday."

His face momentarily fell as her comment came out offhanded, without the shade of coyness he'd been expecting.

He faced her; attentive nonetheless. His hand rested pensively on his chin as a mental list of their wedding guests ran through his head.

"Dr Bellows, hmmm,... was she one of Paul and Isabelle's friends?" He asked.

Trying to remember who this person was, Tony decided, was fruitless. After being pronounced Mr. and Mrs. Micelli to a cheering crowd at their reception, all those happy faces blurred in to the background as Tony remained lost in the eyes of his elated bride.

"Actually, she sent apologies for her nonattendance." Angela replied.

"She was on vacation at the time." She sighed, recalling the same rhetorical response from Dr. Bellows' answering service from years past as she made yet another frenzied appointment each time the waltz she and Tony found themselves in took a step in the wrong direction. And now here they were, settled into a consummate marital rhythm, and the doctor had neither witnessed the union, nor the man, her interrogative counsel had been co-adjutant in wedding.

"Oh, so she wasn't even there...'cause I gotta tell ya Ang, I was so caught up in you that night, I couldn't have told you if Sam had been there."

"You are the most adoring, adorable man; you know that, right?"

"I try," he said as his lips met hers.

"The last thing I remember was catching the flight to Palermo." Lost in his thoughts, vivid memories of their idyllic honeymoon in Italy resurfaced.

Angela stood in an ankle length white linen dress; a veiled beret adorning her head. Their vineyard, an arrant backdrop as he murmured, "Sorriso, la mia bella moglie." {Smile, my beautiful wife}

As his reverie faded he focused on her face, her eyes concerned, yet questioning.

"Tony, honey, are you alright? Did you hear what I said? About meeting Dr. Bellows, my psychologist."

"What did ya say, baby? Your who...?"

His eyes widened as reality slowly dawned on him.

"Of all the things a man, an 'Italian man' for that matter, wants to hear while layin' in bed with his wife; you're tellin' me we need to see a shrink, Ang?"

"I didn't say we 'needed to,' sweetheart...It's just something I 'want' us to do...you'll go, won't you? For me...?" Her lips teasingly lingered a breath away from his.

Otherwise preoccupied with protecting and defending his male ego, which had been slowly deflating since the mere mention of the word 'shrink,' Tony was seemingly immune to Angela's playful persuasiveness as he began gesturing wildly between them.

"You aren't suggesting we have a 'problem' here, are ya Ang?" "Are we not havin' enough---" He looked at her then, concerned, "Are we havin' too much...'cause we can---"

"Tony..."

"Are you happy Angela?"

"Tony, I'm..."

"Wait---" he interrupted. "I don't think I can bear knowin' that you 're unhappy with me---with us."

Crawling up beside him, she softly kissed his forehead and then his nose before her lips met his.

She was none too surprised when his body fully awakened to her advances.

"You were saying something about a problem?" She drawled.

"Did I say that?" His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "You must be mistaken, Mrs. Micelli because I knew we wouldn't have a problem years ago."

Her eyes darkened; "Years ago, is that so?"

"When we'd dance, Angela...I knew we'd be---"

"Rhythmically in sync?" She punctuated his thought with a breathy laugh.

"You said it, baby." "And Ang, make that appointment with Dr. Bellows tomorrow; I really wanna thank her."



"Doctor, an Angela Micelli is here to see you." "That's funny, I have records of an Angela Bower, but no file for an Angela Micelli," the receptionist quipped.

"Ahh, actually, that would be Bower-Micelli." Tony proudly interjected.

"Bower-Micelli, Micelli-Bower," the receptionist said with a shake of her head, "Why don't you just go on in."

As Angela entered her office, Dr. Amelia Bellows did a double take. She was still the poised professional the doctor had always known; her overall demeanor, the doctor observed, was much more...relaxed. She wore a black camisole under a tailored black blazer while black strapless heels accented the denim jeans that hugged her long, lean frame perfectly. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail that bounced along with her every movement. And her smile, which had always been shyly charming, was now award winning. This, the doctor knew, was due largely in part to the seven year bond she shared with the olive-skinned man who stood at her side, his arm draped protectively about her waist. She smiled as she couldn't help but be drawn to his boyish grin which was just as charming, albeit more self assured, than his wife's.

"Angela---She mused; it's been too long."

"Hi Dr. Bellows," Angela greeted warmly.

"And you must be Angela's Tony," the doctor said, nodding approvingly in Tony's direction.

"That I am, Doc...Pleased to meet ya," he said; extending his hand.

"Likewise," she replied, giving his hand a firm shake.

Tony's hand rested lightly on Angela's back as he guided her to one of two chintz covered chairs before taking a seat.

"I take it he's always been this attentive?" the doctor queried; her eyes on Angela.

"Since the day he moved in." Angela affirmed.

"She's the boss, ya know? I've always made sure she's been well taken care of." Tony playfully nudged his wife as she returned his grin with a dazzling smile, both of them lost in their own private joke.

"I see why you married him, Angela." The doctor said, amused, as the connectedness between the two became contagious.

"So what else should I know about my wife, Doc? 'Cause I believe all the bases have been covered," he said with a wink.

"Tony!" Angela airily admonished. "Eight years and I can still make her blush," Tony said; obviously pleased in seeing her cheeks turn crimson.

"So I see." Dr. Bellows said. "How would you like to hear about the day your wife admitted she was in love with you?" She rasped dramatically, opening Angela's file as though it were Pandora's box.
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