And not the one I’ve been fantasizing about.
***
I drop to the closetfloor, lower my head to my hands, and cry. I haven’t cried in over a week. Now seems like a good time. I screwed up. I panicked. I’m scared.
Not scared of Stone. Scared of my feelings, so I did what I’ve learned to do these past few years. Fight. Put up a strong front to hide my fears. It’s all I have to save myself. Only, I don’t know what I’m saving myself from.
Sex with Stone? He’s right, I do crave him. It scares me. I don’t want to want him. For Stone, sex is sex. For me, it’s something more. Something I can’t handle right now. I have too many emotions running through my head. Too much stress.
My mother.
Lorenzo.
Antonio Rossi.
Stone.
My own safety.
If I didn’t feel safe with Stone, I wouldn’t have said those things to him. Had I talked back to Lorenzo or Antonio, I’d have been beaten. My mother is proof of that.
I angered Stone. No, I hurt him. I read it in his eyes. He’s the master of hiding his emotions, his reactions, but they are as clear as the Mediterranean Sea.
No doubt about it, I was a bitch. I’ve never been a cruel person. I keep to myself, work hard, and care for Mama. Stone doesn’t deserve my cruelty, especially after giving me the tablet last night. Mama and I talked for three hours before I finally fell asleep.
I told her to call me when she wakes in the morning, which will be any minute. Rising to my feet, I wipe my eyes and put on my big girl panties. Or rather, my luxurious satin and lace thongs. I fold what I have then go back to the closet, taking two simple black dresses off their hangers and rolling them so they won’t wrinkle.
Instead of heels, I pack two pairs of flat sandals that can be dressed up or down, adding the leggings, jeans, and a few shirts. It isn’t my fault Stone won’t tell me where we’re going. I hope we don’t go out in public at all.
But that will mean staying in our hotel room. I don’t know which I fear more, being spotted or being alone with Stone. Either way, I owe him an apology.
Stone is on his phone during the entire drive to the small airstrip. Once we’re on his fancy jet, he sits with Marco, Tio, and Lucca, leaving me on the couch by myself. His men are aware of the details of our marriage so there’s no need to pretend we even like each other in front of them.
I have my tablet with me and am surprised when my mother’s call comes through. I glance over at Stone, who hears the ringing. He lifts his gaze to me for a fraction of a second before returning to his conversation with his men.
If he didn’t want me to answer, he would have stripped the tablet from me. Forcing a smile, I answer the call. “Hi, Mama. How are you?”
Better to have her talk about her day than ask me questions I’m not prepared to answer.
“Mia fagilia. You look tired. You’re sleeping well, yes?”
“Like a baby. How are you sleeping, mama?”
“Ha! You were a terrible sleeper as a baby. Up every hour wanting to be held.” She carries on about stories of my infancy.
I slip off my sneakers and listen to her stories, so pleased she remembers these special moments from her past. It isn’t until she talks about me settling down and bringing her grandchildren that I glance over at Stone.
He’s watching me. Making sure I don’t say anything I shouldn’t, no doubt.
“I’m too independent to be tied down to a man, Mama,” I say, ignoring the heated stare I continue to feel from Stone.
Mama tells me about the breakfast Carla made for her and their dinner plans, then says she has to weed the garden and hangs up. Our talks give me such comfort that she’s well cared for, but also brings me sadness since she’s a world away. Mentally and physically.
Two years is a long time to be without her.
And even longer to be married to a man I shouldn’t want but crave nonstop.