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“There is no need to play hard to get,” he continued.
“I am not. I got married in city hall a few days ago.”
“Yeah, and I’m Santa Claus. We broke up, and you found some guy who was willing to marry you, just like that? Please.”
Willing?
My chest burned with anger, leaving acid coiling in my stomach.
What had I ever seen in this man to cross an ocean with him?
I wanted to tell him about Antonio. About his kisses which left my knickers far more twisted than his ever did. But I didn’t.
“Fine. Believe whatever you want. I am married. Not married. Either way, I am not coming back. We are done.” I hung up on him.
Why had I picked up the phone again when he had called? Thank god he had no idea where I was. I wouldn’t put it past him to turn up at our doorstep. Somehow, I had the feeling that Antonio would not take kindly to that.
Rescuing Cora’s fist from her own gobbling, I settled next to the bath and let the water run. I didn’t mind a bath myself. Some relaxation would do me good. Not that Antonio could barge in. Armando told me he was away on a business trip. Which he had neglected to tell me. I guessed I wasn’t wife enough for that.
The man had the strangest hours to work. Last night I had thought I was dreaming when I heard a phone go off and a hurried Italian conversation. But apparently not, because he had taken off in the middle of the night.
Cora stuffed the shampoo bottle in her mouth. I rushed over to rescue it and handed over her stuffed giraffe instead, which she promptly stuffed in her mouth.
My phone vibrating distracted me. It better not be Adam again. I didn’t recognise the number, although it looked familiar. I clicked open the message.
You bitch! Who told you to go fucking tie the knot?
My breath hitched. Who was this? This wasn’t Adam’s number.
With shaking fingers, I tried to copy the number to find it on my contact list. Nothing. My recent call history slapped me with results. A received call. I racked my brain to remember.
Fucking bitch!
Another message chimed in.
Heart pounding, I sat down on the edge of the bath. I knew who it was now, though his tone had been different before.
My creepy downstairs neighbour had called me once before. How he had got hold of my number was a mystery. He had been friendly in a weird sort of way. Weird, like cold and clammy, that made you want to run in the opposite direction. A phone call full of questions. His initial questions about how I was faded into weird ones at the end. Where did I sleep? Where did my boss sleep? That was downright freaky.
I had tried to throw the ball back at him. Putting aside my embarrassment, I asked his name and his girlfriend’s. It was pathetic that I didn’t know this, and I wanted to give it through to Antonio. He should be thankful to these people. Thanks to them, he got himself a nanny and now a wife. The man hung up on me then. It had been a strange call, and I might have told Antonio about it, had he not dumped his business proposal on my lap the next day.
Now it seemed that he was not happy I was married. How did he even know I was married? Except for the staff in the household, I didn’t think many people knew. Although it was not like I kept tabs on Antonio. Maybe he was broadcasting it to the world. Maybe he got a picture published of us in the newspaper or something. Did his mother even know? Angelo knew, of course. I knew that when he came around with a bouquet of flowers and sweet words on his lips.
The phone rang in my hand, startling me out of my thoughts. It was the same number. I wasn’t a fool. This time I declined the call.
A message came in with a fuck you emoji.
Yep. I needed a new number asap. I didn’t get what his problem was. Did he have a thing for me and was now pissed that I was married? But he had a girlfriend, for heaven's sake. Was he mad I hadn’t kept a professional relationship? That would be rich, coming from the guy whose banging kept the entire building up at night.
Men. Can’t live with them. Can’t live without them either. The devil on my shoulder whispered, rubbing its hands in glee at the memory of the last time I was intimate with Antonio. What was a girl supposed to do?
Later that night, I thought I would much rather live without them, staring at the place where my comfortable sofa was. Wherever Antonio currently was, he had found the time to get my sofa taken out to be replaced with a small one of half the size that looked as tempting as a bed of nails.
Good thing I wasn’t a quitter. Why give up when winning would give me so much more satisfaction?
ANTONIO
I watched her floating down the stairs with Cora on her hips, both of them babbling incoherently, absorbed in their own world.
