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Falynn
PLAYLIST: ? LOVE IN THE DARK - ADELE ?
Idon’t bother gettingout of bed once I’m at Giovanni’s compound in Portugal. There’s no point when there’s no real escape. Giovanni’s gotten his wish; he’s gotten me to obey.
At eight a.m. on the third day, Carlotta wakes me up. She and security watch as the pills slide down my throat. They double-check to ensure I’m not hiding them under my tongue. Carlotta persuades me out of bed, though I don’t give in much. I’ve done nothing but surrender to the fogginess in my head. Just another side effect of the meds.
“Breakfast on the terrace,” Carlotta pleads. “The sunlight will do you some good. You need vitamin D. Your beautiful complexion is dull.”
I shrug. Her shriveled, small hand takes mine and she guides me to the bathroom. She’s worried about me. The mother in her naturally seeks to care for those she sees are struggling. Though I haven’t said a word to her over the past couple of days, she’s fully aware I’ve hit another low. I just don’t care anymore.
“Take a hot shower,dolcezza,” Carlotta coos, rubbing my back. “You’ll feel much better after. I’ll have breakfast on the terrace for you.”
She starts the shower and gently shuts the bathroom door. I heave out a sigh and drag myself to the porcelain tub.
My eyes close as the water pours over me and scalds my skin. Before I know it, time escapes me. The steam clouds around me and the water pitter-patters against the stone shower tile. Familiar hands slide around my hips and hug me from behind.
Gio, like a ghost from the past, envelops every part of me. He takes me to happier days, where we’d soak in the tub among bubbles and simply enjoy each other’s company. We’d sleep with limbs entangled, and sometimes in the quietest hours of the night, share things reserved for each other’s ears only.
Things I knew a man like Gio would never say to others. He’d once told me I got the Gio nobody else knew of—a man passionate and loving, who would destroy the world for me, his Queen. His Honey.
His heart.
The love he had for me was so intense, like a child, I foolishly started believing in fairy tales again. Finally, my time had come. But instead of the prince with his horse and carriage, it was theKing.
Savage. Bloodthirsty. Dominant. Ruthless ruler of a criminal kingdom, but also somehow the man of my dreams—affectionate and warm and safe.
After a lifetime of uncertainty and disappointment where the man who called himself my father walked out and the woman who was my mother threw me out, it was a relief. All the McKenzies and Enzos and Jerrys were a thing of the past. No more nights working the stage, or holding my breath every time loan sharks turned up to collect Enzo’s debts. Goodbye to the men at the clubs who I had to pretend to like so they’d pay me the cash I needed to keep the lights on. No more struggling. No more searching.
I’d done it for so long, I was exhausted. It had become as much of my existence as breathing.
And that’s when he came into my life, like some kind of dark yet magical fairy tale. Dreams of Prince Charming fell by the wayside. It was Giovanni Sorrentino, future Mafia King of his family’s empire, rescuing me.
Finally, I was loved.
I miss it so much. Just the feeling.
I was taking it for granted without even knowing it, assuming there could be no expiration date on our happiness. I put my trust in him.
What we had would be different from all the other times in my life.Hewas supposed to be different.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to savor the old times, but they begin to slip away, sliding down the drain with the water. The ghost from the past vanishes, and I’m left alone, lost in the shower’s steam.
I can’t give him what he wants. That’s what it comes down to.
Giovannihas set his expectations, and I can’t deliver. My body refuses to comply. The more time passes, the more it’s undeniable. I’m barren.
Every doctor has told us this, yet he insists on trying again and again. Five percent chances at best. Two to three if realistic. Sometimes even less depending on the expert we visit.
And when it does happen, and I’m pregnant, I can’t carry to term. Our first was apparently the only, but our little one was taken away from us. He’s never been the same since. The man who pulled me into our nursery years ago and insisted we decorate together, hanging up sparkling stars and moons and sitting stuffed bears on the shelves, no longer exists.
He’s as gone as the bright shine he says I used to have. It’s no more. Dead, like our marriage.
I gasp as a cry leaves me despite my best efforts to contain it. I can’t do it anymore. I’m just not strong enough.
I give up.
The water plummets several degrees and I hurry to get out of the shower before it becomes icy cold. I’m shocked Carlotta hasn’t begun pounding on the door to ask what’s taken me so long. She’s a stickler for the schedule, even on days when she unsuccessfully attempts to get me to follow it, which has been the case lately.
