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“Being a brat.”
“I’m not, you’re being a jerk.”
“You’re the one being a jerk, Sophia,” he says dropping my hands and turning away from me. “Get out of here.”
“No,” I say surprising myself.
“What do you want from me?” he says, in a raspy voice.
“I want you to consummate this marriage so I don’t feel like a fucking fraud. You’ve screwed most of the East Coast, so you might as well add me to the list.”
“Is that right?” he says with a glint in his eyes.
“Please,” I say tiptoeing up to look at him. I’m so close to him that I can see the black of his lashes.
“No,” he says tilting my chin, “I have work to do, leave.”
I walk out, but this time he doesn’t stop me. I can feel hot salty tears start to build up from my throat as it starts to burn. Getting into bed, I stay awake considering my options which I have whittled down to two, either ride this out or return home. I know the latter is unthinkable, my parents would go berserk, and it would be like last time, only worse.Shameanddisgracewould be repeated until I wanted to tear my hair out.
Rocco isn’tthatbad; I have heard worse stories about other made men that daughters of the Mafia are forced to marry. I just about make peace with the fact that we are going to be like ships in the night, a public marriage, before he saunters in. I keep my eyes closed. Even though it’s dark, I don’t want his eyes to find mine. I hear the rustling of clothes as he undresses and then the spread of warmth through the sheets as he enters the bed. He remains on his side of the bed, although I do feel his arm outstretch, so it is only inches away from my own.
He is sleeping next to me, that is something, I guess.
Inearlylose it with her, the rage almost spilling over but I catch myself in just in time. She is testing the very edge of my resolve coming in the office with her barely therelingerie. I wanted to fuck her on the desk, on the floor, and against the wall. The truth is I want her more than I should but knowing there is someone else in the picture is a dagger to my ego. If I can’t haveallof her, I don’t wantanyof her.
This is a motto I will clearly have to revisit as the odds of me not fucking Sophia on this honeymoon seems to be getting slimmer and slimmer. The thrill of saying no to her brings me great amusement, I am not going to be a tick box for her to navigate. Keeping her at a distance seems to be the only weapon I have against Sophia De Luca née Falcone. The more I get lost in my work, the easier for me to pry my mind away from her, to focus. When my eyes can barely stay open any longer, I fight my own stubbornness and head into the master bedroom. On approaching, I hear sniffing sounds which sound like it can be crying but when I open the door they cease. The room is opaquely dark so I can’t see Sophia, I only make out a small figure huddled in between the covers. Her dark hair sprawled over the pillow.
My arms stretch once I enter the bed and I can almost feel the warmth of her skin inches away from mine, I try to think of anything else but her body as I try to coax myself to sleep. The next two days will be hectic; the first time I will be stepping out as a married man and appearances are everything. Sophia wasn’t sleeping when I first entered the bed, but after a while, I now hear her drift off to sleep, her rhythmic breathing a small comfort to me. My eyes remain open, watching as the night sky turns from inky black to pinkish blue until sunrise.
“The Heart wants what it wants —or else it does not care.”
—Emily Dickinson
DAZZLING SUNLIGHT FILLS THE ROOM, WHEN I LOOK AT THE CLOCK ON THE WALL IT READS, 06:00 AM.
I don’t remember falling asleep last night, but my body feels groggy with exhaustion.
I look next to me in trepidation, but the other side of the bed is empty. Where is Rocco this early? A part of me just wonders whether it may be easier if Rocco were to just change his mind and annul the marriage however, at that thought, I feel a jolt of sadness. Perhaps, he will end up marrying someone more suitable to him like Keira Kavanagh. Then at that thought, I feel a heavier wave of melancholy washing over me. Isn’t that what I had wanted in the first place, not to marry him?
Anxiety clouds my mind as I walk toward the bathroom. The hot steam of the shower helps to refocus my mind. The shower door opens and the cold air hits me as I turn around and am greeted by the glorious vision of Rocco completely naked.
“What are you doing?” I say, covering myself up.
“I’ve already seen it all, sweetheart,” he says.
“Doesn’t mean I have to put it on display,” I say, walking back.
“You’re sore about last night, huh?” he says smirking as he reaches for the shampoo bottle.
“Not at all,” I say while applying body wash.
“Did you sleep well?” he asks frowning slightly.
“Sure.”
“I thought I heard crying last night,” he says eyeing me with a strange look.
“Did you? I didn’t hear anything,” I say politely.
