Nino had been nothing but patient and gentle with me, and it wasn’t something I’d expected. Not in my wildest dreams, not from a man like him, and not from a Falcone. I felt safe with him. But saying the words I’d barely dared to admit to myself had been a mistake. I knew it deep down.
Gathering my courage, I pulled back and sat up. Nino was still inside of me, but he was starting to go soft. I was afraid of looking into his face and seeing him stare blankly at me. It was impossible for him to understand why I had said these three words.
When I raised my eyes, Nino looked like he was trying to comprehend what had just happened. His brows drew together, his gray eyes piercing me to the very core as if he was trying to see into my heart and soul, laying me bare when I had already bared myself to him by admitting to my foolishness.
Embarrassment washed over me, and a deep longing that seemed to tear at the seams of my heart filled my chest. I began to pull away, but Nino wouldn’t let me. His arms tightened around me. “No,” he said firmly. “Don’t run.”
Had it been that obvious on my face that I wanted to run away, even if there was no way for me to run from my emotions?
He cupped my cheek and kissed me, his expression softening. “You are overwhelmed and relieved because we had sex. It’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed.”
Deep down, I knew this act of kindness as well was a conscious effort. He made his facial muscles go soft because he knew I wanted it, because he knew I needed it.
“I meant what I said,” I whispered because I was done running. Nino was right. All my life I’d run from memories, from my family, from men. I was done running, and even if Nino couldn’t understand my feelings, that didn’t change the fact that I had them.
Nino regarded me, his eyes almost … expressive for once. “Kiara,” he began in a low voice.
“I know,” I said quickly, my throat tightening. “I know you can’t return the emotion. I know you don’t feel anything for me, and it’s okay. You are trying to be a good man, even though it’s not in your nature. You are treating me right, you are simulating affection for me, and that’s all right. It’s more than I expected when we married and it’s enough.”
His gaze became searching, and again, I got the feeling that he was trying to peer straight into my heart. Maybe he succeeded because he asked quietly, “Are you sure?”
No, it had been a big fat lie. The idea that Nino could never feel for me what I felt for him filled me with despair, but he had been upfront about his disposition from the very start. I couldn’t hold it against him. I wouldn’t.
“Does it matter? You can’t change who you are. You can’t make yourself feel, so even if it bothered me, that wouldn’t change a thing. I prefer not to fret over things I can’t change.”
“That is a logical choice, but you aren’t the logical type, Kiara.”
I kissed him fiercely, my lips lingering against his as I looked into his gray eyes. As soon as I did, they softened again. Simulated affection. He was so horrifyingly good at it.
“I can try to simulate love,” he murmured, and my heart jerked violently. “It’s not difficult. Humans have a certain way they act around each other when they are in love.”
I was torn between wanting to agree … because if Nino was as good at simulated love as he was at everything else, he could make me believe his emotions were real. I could allow myself to believe a lie. I knew it. But what happened in the moments when I realized the truth, when he forgot to show emotion? These moments would tear me apart if I allowed myself to believe his love could actually be real.
“Kiara,” he said quietly, softly, and even that timbre in his voice was fake, and yet my heart surged with warmth upon hearing it.
I shook my head, my lips brushing against his because we were still so close. “Don’t simulate love. Everything else, I can deal with, but not love. If you ever tell me you love me, it has to be because you really do love me.”
Nino’s arms tightened around me and a flicker of wariness filled his expression. He knew it was never going to happen. Nino loving me was an impossibility.
Could you love someone who didn’t have emotions? Someone who analyzed love as if it were a mathematical problem?
It wasn’t a question that needed answering.
I knew the answer.
I loved Nino, even if he could never love me back.