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She was only a shell of a woman. Michael deserved more. He needed someone with an open heart and no complications. A woman his family didn’t have to train; one who loved cats and children and cooking.
Not a woman like her. One with a crappy past, a bruised heart, and an inability to love.
She backed up slowly as the panic attack threatened. Turned. Then she heard him.
“Ah, la mia tigrotta, would you like to go for a walk with me? It is a beautiful evening.”
His musical, rich voice caressed her skin and tempted her to forget.
The truth slammed through her.
She couldn’t pretend anymore. Not with him. Not with herself.
Maggie stared up at her husband and made the only decision she could.
“Michael, I’m going home.”
He blinked and reached out, but she jerked back. He frowned. “What’s the matter, Maggie? Did something happen?”
“I want to go home alone.”
“Is this about us?” He grabbed her arm and leaned in. “Are you running scared because I confessed my feelings? I know we didn’t talk about it right away, but I thought I’d give you some time.”
She yanked her arm away and sneered. “Don’t do me any favors, Count. Let’s just say I’m sick of the lies, and I want my life back. Not this fake life. This fake marriage.” She flung her hands up and encompassed the room. “This is all bullshit! We’ve been playing a part, pretending to be married, then forced into a real marriage when there’s no way it’ll work. We’re too different. I don’t want this!” she cried out. “I don’t want overbearing sisters, and stray cats, and forced baking lessons! I don’t want to feel strangled all the time under the weight of responsibility. I like being free and making my own choices. So it’s time we both wake up and stop playing at a damn movie of the week.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. The anger swirled with pain and only enraged her further. “Did my words mean nothing to you?” he asked furiously. “I told you I loved you. Did that mean nothing?”
She stuck out her chin. Met his gaze dead-on. “Your words meant nothing.”
She turned on her heel to leave. He made a move to stop her but she spit like Dante and bared her teeth. “Leave me alone; can’t you see I don’t want this anymore? I don’t want you or this awful lifestyle your real wife would inherit! Have some pride, for God’s sake.”
This time, he let her go.
She raced down the hall, seeking shelter to lick her wounds before her speedy departure. She’d walk into town, leave her belongings, and get them at a later date. Other than her camera, everything else was replaceable. Better to get out now before she faced his sisters. Michael could come up with some excuse.
With leaden feet, she grabbed her camera, purse, and cell phone. She made some quick calls and left the only home that ever made her feel like she belonged. The only home that ever made her feel loved.
Maggie didn’t look back.
• • •
“What’s going on?”
Maggie sat in the living room and stared at her best friend. Alexa rocked the baby on one hip, the standard drool cloth tossed over her shoulder, while Lily babbled and squealed as she stared at the puppy playing by her mother’s feet. The small golden ball of fur pawed at her slipper-clad toes and scampered back and forth every time Alexa moved away.
Old Yeller, the ugly hound Alexa convinced Nick to keep more than a year ago, lay in the small patch of sun leaking through the window and watched the puppy with an air of disapproval. The familiar blue and orange Mets bandanna wrapped around his neck gave off a distinguished appearance unheard of for a once mangy stray.
Maggie tried to avoid the subject. “I can’t believe you got a puppy. Nick hates messes.”
Alexa let out an impatient breath and danced out of the fur ball’s reach. “Oh, I didn’t do it this time. Nick was coming home from the waterfront and found Simba in the woods, crying. Bruises all over the poor thing’s body. Must have been thrown out of a moving car.”
Maggie winced. “I can’t believe he didn’t take it to the shelter. What have you done to my brother?”
Alexa laughed and bounced in time to the hip-hop music streaming from the surround-sound speakers. Simba growled in delight and tried to keep up with the moves. Lily giggled. “First he took the dog to the vet, then brought it home while demanding I don’t get attached. He said he’d put an ad in the paper and find the dog a home.” She shrugged. “So I let him. After a week, the ad disappeared and we never spoke about it again. He says hello to the puppy before me when he gets home from work.”
Longing washed through Maggie. She missed that stupid cat and the way he’d roll over and demand his belly be scratched. She missed Carina’s bouncy eagerness, and Julietta’s crisp business attitude, and Venezia’s dramatic outbursts. She missed Michael’s mother’s quiet insistence in the kitchen, the smell of baking, and drinking coffee on the terrace.
She missed her husband.
Maggie concentrated on breathing and struggled through the raw pain. One day at a time. She’d be okay; she was a survivor. But who knew surviving was so much less than living?
“Well, you can thank him properly because I got you a present.” Maggie tossed her friend the silky red negligee. “No details, please. Still too weird for you to shag my brother.”
Alexa laughed and examined the gorgeous piece of lace and silk in one hand. “Thanks, babe, it’s just what we needed tonight. Besides a babysitter.”
“I’ll take her one night this week so you can have a date night. I’m not going on any other trips for a while.”
Maggie flexed her hands. Her naked ring finger flashed in mockery, and she hurriedly clasped her hands in her lap.
Alexa studied her for a long while. Her voice was soft and comforting when she finally spoke. “Maggie, you have to tell me the truth. What’s going on?”
She shrugged. “Went to Italy. Saw Michael. Back now. Nothing else to tell.”
“Michael came to see me.”
Her head shot up and she gasped. “What? What did he tell you?”
Alexa marched over to the playpen, placed Lily in, kicked Simba gently off her leg, and joined her on the couch. Her blue eyes held a mixture of sympathy and support. “Michael told me everything, Maggie. About going to Italy and pretending to be his wife. About the priest making it real. And how he confessed his feelings to you but you ran away and threw them back in his face.”
