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It isn’t all that common for the help to eat with the family, but Dante’s always been anything but common. Marisa is like a surrogate mother to him, and he treats her like family.
I respect that about him. Coming from a household that doesn’t have staff or worked at other families’ mansions as staff, being from a household that didn’t always have what we needed, it’s refreshing.
“How are you feeling?” I ask Aurora, a bit worried about her morning sickness which seems to last all day.
“I’m fine,” she says shortly, eating some of her potatoes.
I frown but don’t press her. Francesca is looking at me like I’ve grown a second head, and I look away, focusing on shoveling down my food.
Dante and I both praise Marisa’s cooking, and she dismisses us with self-deprecating remarks. It’s the Italian way.
I’m hoping that I can talk to Aurora after dinner, but she excuses herself early, saying that she needs to bathe and rest. She kisses her father goodbye, who is also eating heartily and praising the food.
Carlo and Dante chat a bit while I stare after Aurora. I’m not fully present at this dinner because I keep thinking about how angry she is. I also keep thinking about what Carlo said, about how he’d taken his wife for granted and lost her.
Is that what I’m doing with Aurora?
I shake my head to clear it. I’m not in love with Aurora and I certainly don’t want her to be my wife. We’ve just been in such close proximity for so long that it feels weird to be separated from her, that’s all.
Right?
23
AURORA
Isoak in the bath for the longest time, hoping that it will make me feel better. I managed to eat half my plate for dinner, which is progress since I’ve barely been keeping anything down. I’m not sure if it’s the pregnancy or just because I feel so upset.
I miss Nico, miss being around him and sleeping next to him, and I don’t know what to do about it. It’s not like I can easily forgive him or go back to being in a physical relationship with him.
That won’t work, will it? I wish that I could maintain a relationship with him, at least a casual one, but that’s not me. I can’t handle him seeing other women, and clearly he’s not ready to give up that part of his life. I wish he saw me as worthy, but he doesn’t so I really have to let go.
I’m just finishing getting dressed for bed when someone knocks softly on my door.
My heart leaps into my throat, hoping that it’s Nico, but instead it’s a different pair of green eyes at my door: Francesca.
“Hey, you,” she says softly. “Haven’t seen you since we took that nap together, just checking on you. Heard your dad was here.”
I smile, thinking of my dad and how grateful he was to see me. Sometimes, growing up, I remember feeling invisible in my own home, like he didn’t think of me much.
Now, I’m aware that’s not the case, and it feels good. I’m beginning to understand that I’ve never been as invisible as I thought.
“He was worried sick,” I admit. “Surprised me.”
“We all were,” Francesca says. “I knew that Nico would keep you safe, but I figured you were going crazy stuck with him.”
I look away and Francesca frowns.
“But you weren’t, were you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, busying myself making my bed and Francesca grabs my wrists.
“What happened between you and my brother?” she demands to know, and I press my lips together in a thin line.
“That’s really none of your business,” I mumble, and Francesca scoffs.
“We’ve told each other everything since we were twelve, Aurora, please,” she insists. “Did something happen? Did he...” she pauses, her eyes widening. “Did he take advantage of you?”
I stare at her. “What do you mean, take advantage of me? Of course not!”
