AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Not when you are in my room,” she retorted.
“Will you follow me out?”
“No.”
“When are you going to be an adult, then?”
“Never.”
She tested my patience like no other woman had. This felt like marriage already to me.
I stood up and looked down at her. The urge to bury my dick inside her was strong. I had half a mind to get on the bed and do it right now. But someone had to be the adult here.
“Who knew I hired a child to look after one.” That had earned me a pillow on my groin. At this rate, sex was going to be off the table for a long time.
I followed her to the kitchen on Sunday and watched her cutting the vegetables for Cora’s lunch together with Rosa. The tension in the air was like the ocean before the storm. Even though I saw the dark clouds gathering, I stayed fixed. Courting danger was a birthright of mine. All I saw was progress. She hadn’t left the room. Yet. Nor had she kicked me or thrown some ridiculous thing in my direction. About time.
Rosa was good with her. They silently worked beside each other, moving in coordination, ignoring me. I didn’t care. Victory was close. I could feel it tickling in my skin. Persuasion always won.
She put the food in the processor and switched the on button. A soft curse flew out before she tried again. The pressure she was putting on the button was going to help break it sooner rather than later. I wisely held back. Telling her she needed to plug the damn thing in wasn’t going to help me score any points. After her fourth try, she yanked the processor from its holder and slammed it across the floor. Even I didn’t see that coming. Food and bits and pieces of the processor rolled around, echoing the sound of rolling plastic on a tiled floor. Rosa stood in the corner, shocked and silent.
“I am sorry.” She dropped her head to the floor. “I can’t do this anymore, Antonio,” she said quietly, her voice breaking more than usual.
Rosa moved to comfort her immediately, like a mother hen going for her little one. I halted her in her tracks. “Give us some privacy,” I said softly but firmly in Italian.
She didn’t look convinced. “Per favore, mamma Rosa,” I pleaded. I rarely called her that anymore.
“You better fix whatever you have broken. This girl is the best thing that happened to this house!” she yelled at me in Italian.
“I know. That is why I am asking her to marry me.”
“Oh, il mio ragazzo.” She rushed over to me, touching my shoulder to comfort me, before leaving the room, looking back over her shoulder.
I sidestepped the food spattered all over and got to her.
“It’s broken,” she whispered.
“Nothing is broken.”
“The fucking mixer is broken!” she yelled.
I sighed. I swore the patience I had accumulated over the years was purely to handle her. Picking up the processor, I put it back together and plugged it in. “See? You just had to plug it in, piccola mia.”
She sighed. “I can’t do this anymore. I need to leave.”
My ears pricked up. Not an option. “What can’t you do anymore?” I asked, gently tucking her hair behind her ear, trying to get her to look up. She didn’t, but she didn’t move away either. That was an improvement.
“You. You are constantly pushing me. Following me. I can’t breathe.”
“What do you want me to do?” I asked. Frustration fuelled inside me. This should have been so much easier.
“Take it back,” she pleaded.
“I can’t.”
“I love Cora.”
“I know that.”
