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After sex, we cleaned up, dressed, and sat on the couch. Angelina rested her head on my lap. I rubbed her head. This was definitely not in the contract, nor was the sex. But it also wasn't in the contract that we had to acknowledge what we did or were doing. It was by far one of the weirdest situations going on in the world, I would have to say.
For good. While we didn't really need to say anything to one another. It was one of those comfortable silences. Angelina was the one to break that silence.
"Did you ever plan a wedding in your head? You know, like, imagine that day? I know that's usually a chick thing to do, but I'm just curious."
Curiosity killed the cat. But I wouldn't kill this cat. I could be open with her about some things, even if it did embarrass me a little. " Yeah. I have. Nothing too specific cuz I don't know much about weddings. I just picture a lot of white. I have this stupid image in my head where there are doves."
She set up a little bit on the couch and smiled. The way she looked at me, with her eyes all up, told me she was excited about something. " I picture doves too. I've always pictured doves."
There was a part of my brain that needed the minimize the coincidence. It was nothing but a defense mechanism. "Well, those are pretty common. Don't get too excited. But you know, since we're on the topic. We should probably plan the wedding or make people think we are."
There was a long pause that came to her. I couldn't tell if it was because I had dismissed what she said about the doves or if it was simply because she was thinking. " And how does one make people think we're discussing a wedding?"
"I don't know. When we're in public. Then we should talk about the wedding when we have to be on. It should define us. We really need to get people to believe that we're together. If the date comes that we break up, it should come as a shock to people. People should not believe that we're broken up."
She went quiet on me. Maybe she didn't like that. I said if we were to break up. Maybe she just didn't like the general direction of the conversation, especially after sex.
She rested her head on my lap, and I knew I wasn't in trouble. I also knew that I needed to be better. Better was a very vague term. Better could mean anything. I didn't know what it meant in that phase of what we were doing. All I knew was that it wasn't what I was.
I could be better for her.
Chapter 11
Angelina
Hewasgoneformost of the day. Mafia stuff. It was the type of stuff that I wasn't to ask about. I did my part. I met his dad. And I played that part well. Or at least that's what I told myself. So I didn't need to wonder about all the other stuff going on. It was none of my business.
Okay, so I didn't need to wonder. But I wanted to, and I did. Every second that he was away from me, I wondered about what he was doing at that moment. That mysterious mafia life. But I also just hoped that he was safe. It wasn't like any other relationship. I did worry about him. He was the perfect man in my eyes. Perfect because he was imperfect. And then I had to worry about him losing his life every second he walked out the door. You could worry about your significant other getting into a car accident in other relationships.
I never considered myself to be a pessimist. I only became a pessimist when I was scared. I guess when you value something and don't want to lose it, fear comes into play. I was only human, after all. Tomaso wasn't giving me much to work with. He gave what he wanted to give in the rest. I just had to be curious about it. We both had plenty of ups and downs, and I liked it. I liked the chaos, as bad as that may have sounded. These constant nerves made my legs shake and my breath short. And I kind of enjoyed it all.
The downtime sucked, though. That was hard when Tomaso wasn't home, and I just had to be his fake fiance for no one but myself. It was almost like putting on a stand-up comedy show for no one. What was the motivation? What was I doing with my life? Especially when you have the time to think about the end result. And for me, that end result could be nothing but a called-off fake marriage. How exciting.
I made myself some hot pockets for brunch. It wasn't the sexiest thing that I could be doing. But I was hungry. And I missed Tomaso. Combine the two, and you got a girl who eats whatever she wants. It also took my mind off of sex. I wasn't typically an overly sexual woman, but when it came to him, that, too, went out the window. It felt like he had this uncanny ability to change my DNA. He was like some sort of supervillain in a Marvel movie. He could penetrate my soul and warp it into whatever he wanted without trying.
I was on the couch watching my reality shows. When I heard the key turned in the door. My heart started to race. My man was home. Yes, I called him my man to myself. It was called manifesting. I had to manifest my future because it wouldn't manifest itself.
When the door opened, I kept my eyes on the TV. I didn't let on that I was excited to see him. That was something he didn't deserve to see yet. Obviously, he was making efforts and being better, but I still had to keep some of my guards up.
"Hey, Angelina. More reality shows?"
"I crave reality. Because I live in a fictional world."
He didn't respond to that. I was really proud of that sentence. It was probably why I was really watching a reality show. Ironic because reality shows were super fake. But still, I would be choosing that over watching a fictional show like most things on Netflix. "Do you think you can pull yourself away from that for a bit because I want to take you ring shopping?"
Butterflies in my chest dispersed. I knew they weren't real, but mentally I told them to all chill-out. Because what did he really mean by that? Why was this man taking me ring shopping when our relationship was completely fake? But whatever, I would go with the flow. "Ring shopping? Why don't you just give me an old fake ring?"
He walked over and stood before the TV. "Because everything needs to be authentic. I arranged for us to go secretly so no one could see me getting you the ring. Because, after all, we're supposed to already be engaged. You're lucky my father didn’t look at your finger."
"That's a woman thing to do. Men don't think of things like that. I'm surprised you're thinking of this right now."
He gave me a sarcastic laugh, and it turned me on. “I’m not just a brute or whatever you think of me as. I have common sense.”
I raised an eyebrow while questions sauntered across my brain. The biggest one that did was, “Okay then, what jewelry store are you taking me to?”
He stood there with pursed lips. “Taking you to. I’m not taking you there. We’re just going to pick up a ring.”
That same eyebrow from before raised itself. Why did he always have to pull back on what he gave me? It was always hot and cold with him. “Yeah? Well, when you put it like that, it sounds like you already have something picked out.”
