It was barely a whisper. “Like a child.”
“Nobody would question my bringing you back if…” he glanced down at my belly.
I thought about it. Ettore presenting me to his family and my own, with a swollen belly and his arm around me. His family would be overjoyed, no doubt. But my family? I only had one person who still claimed me and Vincenza would shit a brick.
The pressure in my head grew and my tongue began to swell as I asked anxiously, “And what if that doesn’t happen?” His lips thinned and I grew more panicked as I went. “What if I don’t fall pregnant? Then what? What does that mean for me? Am I just stuck here forever, living out this sentence, with my husband coming to get his rocks off whenever the mood strikes?”
And, this guy. He actually had the gall to strike back, “That’s unfair.”
My eyes widened a moment before they narrowed on him. “Unfair,” I muttered, then repeated slowly, “Unfair?” My brows rose. “I don’t think so.” I hopped off the counter and took two steps back, moving a safe distance away as I said what had been brewing inside of me since the day I was left here. “Do you know what’s unfair? What’s unfair is the man who killed my father is walking around free while I’m being imprisoned for a mere flesh wound.” Another step back. “What’s unfair is begging for attention from that very man and feeling such intense guilt over wanting to be close to him while he uses me as a ploy, manipulating me at every turn, trying to get me pregnant without even talking to me about it.” Well, at least he had the grace to look ashamed. I must have sounded so disappointed when I uttered sadly, “God. I’m a person, Tor.”
His lips thinned. “I’m aware,” was his cool response.
“Then maybe start treating me like one.”
Before he had a chance to respond, I was already walking away, moving up the stairs towards the bathroom. I felt so dirty. I had to wash him off of me.
By the time I finished, I walked back out of the bathroom in a towel to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, peering down at his hands, looking every part the defeated man. I hated that seeing him like this made me soft in the heart and weak with the need to go to him.
My voice was softer when I spoke again. “Why did you come?”
He didn’t even deign to look at me. “Because you called.” He seemed confused by it, himself.
My heart ached. He appeared tired. Vulnerable, even. And that was something I understood all too well. With a quiet sigh, I made my way over and took a seat beside him. I shuffled closer until our thighs were pressed together. And then, I looked at him to find he was already looking at me.
So much had passed between us. So much could be said with a single look. A flurry of emotions trailed back and forth – Resentment. Desire. Anger. Yearning. – and I felt so overwhelmed by it that I could seem to stop myself from twisting, reaching out and gently touching his cheek. He allowed me to bring him to me and I could tell he was surprised by the gentle kiss that lingered on his lips.
When I pulled back, Ettore’s eyes had tightened in suspicion. And it killed me.
How sad, that I couldn’t even kiss my husband without fear of distrust.
Lifting my hand, I gently touched the creased between his brow, smoothing it out as I smiled sadly and uttered quietly, “You want to knock me up but you can’t even accept my kisses without looking for a motive.”
I saw it. The very moment he realized I had a point. Ettore’s expression turned somber. “I guess you could say I have trust issues.”
He said it so seriously with the slightest touch of rancor that, after a moment of tense silence, a smile tugged at my lips. My response was humble. “Same.”
The reluctant smile that spread across his face was beautiful. It called to my own and, just like that, the air around us changed. With the mood lightened, I took the opportunity to cover his hand with my own and squeeze. “I want to come home.”
He fingers tightened around mine. He ran his thumb across my knuckles and the action was a harsh contrast to the hard word he responded with. “No.”
Looking at his handsome face, at those lips that kissed me stupid, it was easy to forget that this man was dangerous. I knew better than to push. I had to pick my battles.
My face fell and I let out a hushed, “When can I?”
His, “When you’ve done your time,” was cold and detached. I tried not to make it obvious how much it hurt as I attempted to pull away from him, but a swift yank of my arm had me up and draped across his lap and then, he had my face in his hands. He forced me to look at him. His eyes softened some when he said, “You just keep behaving yourself. Keep being my good girl, okay?”
I couldn’t hide my sadness when I nodded lightly. He kissed me warmly and, with little resistance, I fell into him.
When he left later that night, I felt like I was being torn apart from the inside out.
* * *
Days passed.I mourned his leaving, but soon, I fell back into my routine. I did as he asked and played the role of good girl during the day, while at night, I misbehaved in my bed, calling out his name in the hopes it would bring him back to me.
I lost count of the days. I fantasized about my husband often. Those fantasies turned into dreams and sometimes, I could feel him. Sometimes it was as though he was really there. And tonight, I was having the most wonderful dream. It was late when Ettore entered the room. He undressed and lifted the sheets. The cool breeze over my nude body had me breaking out into goosebumps as he slid in behind me. My nipples beaded as his warm hands snaked around me, coming to rest on my belly. And when I began to move against the hard line of his erection, he lowered his mouth and pressed soft kisses to my shoulder and neck. I tilted my hips back and moaned quietly. The arm around my middle tightened as he touched me there, the pads of his fingers testing my readiness.
“Wake up, Tori.”