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He had me so wrapped around his finger that I was completely oblivious to his behavior. Everyone else around me had noticed, but I was too love-struck to see the obvious.
I had become a fragment of myself as a result of his manipulation and the unquestionable love I felt for him.
One day, my brothers practically kidnapped me from our house and forced me into a church. Eric had buried me in reasons and excuses as to why I shouldn’t leave the house that day. It seemed strange, but my blindness knew no boundaries, and I thought that maybe he had planned a surprise for me.
I sat there in the last row of the church, holding on to Rafe’s hand as if my life depended on it, watching as the man I loved, the man I thought would be my husband, the man I changed myself to please, married another woman.
That was the day I promised myself never to be vulnerable, never to be weak again.
I allowed myself to cry my heart out for a week before coldly cutting all my feelings off. Extremes are dangerous like that. In shutting down my feelings, I shut off a lot of other vital things, too, like the will to fight through the pain.
The void was tempting in its serenity. There, deception and heartbreak didn’t exist, but neither did love and life.
It took me time to heal and build up the strength I needed to live my life as I had pledged. Strength that most days I didn’t have. Thankfully, I had it spoonfed to me by family and a special friend.
But I finally did it.
In the process, I had never surrendered my heart again.
I dated Jackson on and off afterwards, but I never loved him. He was more like a test and proof of my new and growing self as a strong and independent woman who would never again yield to a man. He had helped me spring free and flourish into who I am today.
Helping my uncle and father in the business hardened me further, and I took every opportunity I got to bury myself further into the life. It strengthened my body and my mind.
But right here, right now, I was trembling at the thought of losing control.
Of handing myself completely to Matt and being exposed and vulnerable all over again. Within a couple of days, he was achieving something Jackson never even remotely could in months.
He was my husband, sure, but he was gaining the power to hurt me as my heart slipped out of my grasp and into his hands.
The picture of my dark and tarnished soul still burned my thoughts, as did the old tears that had me drowning in sorrow and pain. I could still feel them flowing, soaking my cheeks.
“Francesca, Baby, wake up! Francesca!” This voice was a melody I could listen to for the rest of my life and never grow tired. The deep and soothing tone was absorbing the anguish that was crushing my chest.
“Francesca.” A firm shake before I finally opened my eyes.
“Matt?” I was struggling to breathe, my throat burning from the unwavering lump I continuously tried to swallow.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay. You’re safe. You’re okay.”
Matt held me tightly to his naked chest, stroking my hair in long, calm motions. It took me a while before I fell back into reality, hugging him back while my sinking heart slowly came afloat.
Besides all the haunting trauma from my life before Matt, the notion that he was tearing down these walls I had built was worrying me more than anything. Still, I couldn’t force myself to push him away anymore.
I was fighting without weapons when it came to Matt.
The way I craved him was irrational, borderline insane. This rush had no rhyme or reason, and still, I was choosing to dance to his music anyway.
I wanted him close. I wanted him to want me. I wanted him… to love me.
Chapter 11
Francesca
We spent the first five days of our honeymoon in Havana before going to Varadero to enjoy the beach for the nine days we had left. After the rocky start, those days went by in a flash.
Other than our two strolls through the city, we hardly saw anything else. The view was better from inside the room, and even food tasted better with room service.
There was an undeniable force pulling us together, something stronger than anything I had ever felt before. I could confidently say that sex with Matt was the best I had ever had. It took me a few turns to understand why. He was always focused on me. On my pleasure. On giving more than taking.
