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“Which was?”
“Frustration. Frustration that your partner wants nothing to do with you. I’ll admit it was immature of me.”
That’s a start, at least.
I slump onto the bed. “And I can admit I was judgmental when we first met, and maybe that wasn’t right of me. But you proved my judgments right when you took me here.”
He bows his head. “I know. And I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.”
“Do you truly feel bad for what happened to me last night?”
When he looks at me, his eyes blaze with fury. “Of course, I do. Adelina, I never wanted you to get hurt. Believe that.”
“I’m trying to.”
“I’ll get you out of here. I’ll take you to the hotel suite we were supposed to stay in for our wedding night. Maybe we could start over. Give each other another chance.”
“I don’t know how to start over. You really hurt me, Matteo.”
“I know.” He kneels by my legs. “So let me make it up to you.”
I meet his gaze head-on. Sincerity radiates off of him. I can tell he’s speaking the truth. “It will take me a while to trust you, you know.”
“I do. But we have to start somewhere. Why don’t we make a deal to give each other a chance? A blank slate. It’s the only way our marriage will be successful.”
I tilt my head. “You really want it to work, don’t you?”
“I do. I didn’t lie when I made my vows.”
“I just never expected a man like you to take marriage seriously.”
He points at me. “That right there. That’s what we need to work on. A blank slate, remember?”
I flush. He has me there. “I want …” I inhale deeply. “I want to make this marriage work, too. I don’t want to be angry and frustrated with you all the time.”
“Then let’s do it. Let me get you out of here, and let’s start our honeymoon off right.”
God, I want that to be true. Despite my complicated feelings for Matteo, I’m drawn to him. If he shaped up, proved that he could be a good husband, I’d be much happier. I wouldn’t be stuck in a miserable marriage.
“Ok,” I finally say. “Let’s do it.”
The grin that spreads across his face makes me smile in return. “Great.” He stands up and holds out his hand. I stare at it for a moment, knowing that if I take his hand, it’ll set a new precedent. I could slap his hand away as I’ve done before. Show him that I want nothing to do with him. But look at how that turned out. He was sleeping with another woman while I wasgetting assaulted. I know what his men did to me is not my fault. But what is my fault is pushing Matteo away and making him think that I’m all right with him sleeping around on me. I realize now that I’m not fine with it at all. This is my moment to bridge the gap between us.
I finally move.
I place my hand in his.
Matteo’s strong hand wraps around mine as he pulls me up. “Let me get you some clothes.” Still holding my hand, he walks over to the dresser and grabs a long t-shirt. “Think of it like a temporary dress.”
I resist the urge to wrinkle my nose. There’s no way I want to wear a gross t-shirt like that, but I have no other clothes to wear. And Matteo is making an effort.
I grab it and slip it over my tattered wedding dress and lingerie. The shirt falls to my knees. “How do I look?”
“You look good,” he says, his voice husky.
My eyes catch his. He likes the way I look in his shirt. The realization makes me feel both nervous and strangely excited.
Matteo grabs my hand again, and we leave the room and enter the club’s main room. His men are scattered around, chatting and drinking from the bar. I can see a handful of them outside, working on their bikes. The room goes silent as we enter. Enrico is lounging on the couch with Jules pressed up against his side. His face is a bruised mess. Matteo’s work. That makes me happy.
