My body came alive, as if his hands were enough to make me hear his focused breathing. To feel the heat of his body as he straddled my thighs. To feel the press of his groin against my legging covered ass. I wanted it to be real, wanted it to be more.
But even if Lino had wanted that, I couldn't.
I was done with men. Done with the pain they caused and the lies they told. No matter how much I loved Lino, he was a man at the core, and he'd hurt me with his lies once before.
After all, I wasn't Mrs. Angelino Bellandi like he'd promised.
We spent a few long moments with him fixating on the tense muscles beside my spine, and I wanted to mourn the loss of his body when he swung his leg over and climbed off me. Even if my more logical self knew, it was better to be done with it. That space between our bodies was good. Was normal.
We needed to get back to normal.
I rolled to my back before moving to sitting and pulling my knees into my chest. "You don't have to stay here with me, you know," I whispered when he returned from washing his hands in the bathroom. There was another tube of ointment in his hands, and he sat next to my feet.
"I enjoy taking care of you," he murmured. When he grabbed one ankle, I flinched. I should have known he missed nothing when it came to me, and armed with the knowledge he had, he would have turned to analyzing every mark on my body. He pulled a little harder, waiting until I relented to give him my foot. The tube in his hand turned out to be scar cream, and he rubbed it on the soles of my feet. Holding me steady while I squirmed, he seemed immune to my ticklishness. "What were you planning to tell me happened here?"
"I hadn't worked that out yet," I admitted as he massaged it into the raised, fleshy scars.
"And what actually happened?"
"It doesn't matter. It's over now, so there's no point in us rehashing all the details—"
His head snapped up, his jaw clenched and nostrils flaring like a cornered animal. "It's worse than strangling you?"
I dismissed him with a chuckle that sounded as fake as it felt. "I don't know what gave you that impression." He switched to the other foot, but his eyes never left my face.
"Why else would you not tell me? After strangling you, I would think anything else would be inconsequential to admit. What the fuck happened?" His thumbs pressed into the arch of my foot more harshly, his annoyance pushing him to that ledge I knew he walked daily in his business life where he became a ruthless king.
"Lino—"
"I will find out, Samara. So help me God, I will fucking find out. And if it doesn't come from your mouth, I'll lose my damn mind. I rarely get angry with you. Do not test me." I knew he meant every word, knew that now that he knew there was something to find he would be relentless until he learned the truth. It didn't matter that I'd never gone to the hospital, that there was no official record. Linda knew, and Jasper suspected.
"I stepped on glass."
His glare was nothing short of pure fire, but the words stuck in my throat. "Samara," he warned.
"The night I told him I wanted a divorce. He wasn't pleased. I didn't realize he was drunk, or I would have waited. He was always quicker to outbursts when he'd been drinking, but he hid it so well. I never even suspected until he got close enough for me to smell it on him." Finished with my feet, Lino's hand ran up the back of my calf, the barest of pressures that I could barely feel through my leggings. I knew the restraint it took for him to touch me so gently, knew that he overcompensated and tended toward overly soft touches to avoid hurting me. "I fought him off. Tried to get away, and we broke the floor-length mirror that we kept in the corner of the bedroom. When I got away, I stepped on the glass in my hurry to run out. I ran all the way to Linda's, so the glass was deep by the time we dug it out."
"Hence the scars," he sighed.
"Hence the scars," I returned, thinking for just a moment that he might let it be.
"You said you were sick. Said that it was the stomach flu, which is the only time you won't let me near you. I knew you were lying, but I thought you just needed time after coming to terms with the divorce. I gave it to you like an idiot." The breath hissed out of him, like he couldn't believe he'd given me space I had needed.
"I did need space. Giving it to me was the right thing to do," I murmured in my best attempt to soothe him. "No matter what caused me to need that space, nothing changes the fact that I needed it."
"He hurt you? Aside from the glass, you said there was a fight?" I winced, closing my eyes to avoid looking at him. "It's my job to take care of you. I need to know, vita mia."
"He said I was his. That I would only ever be his, and he wanted to prove that. So he grabbed me, pushed me down and—" I paused with a grimace. No matter what I did, how my face contorted, the words just wouldn't come. I'd never said it out loud, never admitted it. Linda had known from my injuries, known from the way I'd winced when I lowered my body into the bathtub that Connor had taken something I hadn't freely given.
Lino went solid, his hand freezing on my calf and fingers digging into my leggings like he just couldn't restrain himself any longer. "Say it," he whispered, staring at my face. "I need to hear you say it, Little Dove." His voice was broken, even with the rage contorting his features.
I closed my eyes, shutting out the vision of his anger. It was the only chance I had of ever admitting what haunted me in my sleep. Or what had haunted me. I hadn't had a nightmare since I started sleeping in Lino's arms. He always had been my safe place.
My home.
"He raped me," I admitted, fighting back the burn of tears behind my eyelids. I had to hope the explanation was enough, because I wouldn’t be able to suffer through all the painful details. Not with him.
Lino's fingers spasmed on my leg before his touch disappeared altogether. My eyes flew open as the bed shifted with the loss of his weight, and I watched as he slammed the bedroom door behind him. "Lino!" I cried, wanting to chase after him. But I knew that even in his happier moments the past few days, getting out of the bed on my own was the fastest way to piss him off so I straightened to kneel, staring at the door like it would burst open any moment and I listened.