ANASTASIA FERRARI
"How far are you with the cooking?" Maurizio asks, walking into the kitchen.
It's a Sunday afternoon and our kids are having a good time in the pool, and Beverly is playing with Leon in the living room. My son is three months old now, he should start going for his swimming lessons soon.
"The food will be ready in an hour and a half," I dismissed him.
It's been over a month since the time I was discharged from the hospital and I am still not affectionate with my husband. We even sleep in different bedrooms and because I am nice, I let him sleep in the main bedroom.
"Do you need help, is there anything that I can chop, maybe?" I chuckled sarcastically.
"Since when do you want to chop 'anything', Maurizio? The only chopping that I know you are capable of doing is cho
