Page 30 of Vow

That wasn’t part of the plan.

Andino had just stepped out of the office while his uncle still muttered on behind him when his phone started to ring with a familiar tune. He grinned down at the name flashing on the screen.

Haven.

It took her long enough. He thought the note on the flowers was a nice touch … he just didn’t think it would take her this long to call about them.

Because really, what else would she be calling for?

She constantly surprised him.

SIX

Haven eyed the bushel of flowers resting in the vase she had managed to find in one of the many boxes that she had yet to send to storage. Despite the confusion those stupid flowers made her feel every single time she even looked their way, she kept them on her table. Right in the very fucking middle.

They were the first thing she saw whenever she came into the kitchen, and the last thing she saw before she left. She watered them, fed them the plant food that had been shoved in with the stems, and even carefully pruned away any dead foliage lest it kill the healthy parts of the other flowers.

She hated them. She hated the beautiful flowers with their colorful, soft petals because they constantly reminded her of the man who gave them to her, and how cruel love truly was. Because they were something she wasn’t willing to get rid of even if it would make her feel better to do exactly that, and then put them out of her mind … just like Andino. Because they caused her pain without meaning to, and she was not smart enough to put an end to that agony.

So yes, she hated them.

And yet, she took care of them, too.

It was not lost on Haven how fucking ironic it was that those flowers and the way she treated them with great love and care were a perfect mirror to her relationship with Andino. She treated their relationship the same way she treated these stupid ass flowers. With love and care. While he—like the stupid flowers—only gave her confusion and pain in return.

She tried her best to ignore the note that had been attached to the flowers. That only lasted a few short days, though, because like the flowers … she wasn’t able to toss the note, or stop looking at it whenever she stepped foot in this damn kitchen.

How was she supposed to forget about something when she was constantly reminding herself of that very thing?

She tried to put it out of her mind.

And failed.

So, when trying to ignore the note and what it might mean failed, she regaled herself to not calling Andino about the note. It became her next task.

She failed at that, too.

Fuck her life.

“Ciao, mia bella donna.”

Why did he have to sound like that?

All dark, smooth, and entirely bad for her health?

His voice alone was enough to get her heart pounding, and her chest tight. The sound of him calling her beautiful in Italian could make her wet between her thighs, and ready to run right back to him even if that was the very last thing she should do.

Oh, yeah.

Entirely bad for her health.

In more ways than one …

“Andino,” Haven greeted civilly.

Somehow, she managed to keep her tone level. She thought she didn’t sound stupid with her feelings just from the sound of his voice alone. She really fucking sucked at this whole thing, but it wasn’t entirely her fault. It was his. He did this to her, and he kept doing it, too. She didn’t want to be played with. Not her heart, her body, or her soul. She loved this man, but that didn’t mean she had to allow him to keep hurting her, too.

That was Haven’s hard limit.