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I watch as my words penetrate and understanding spreads over Marco’s face. I’m pretty sure that I’m going to die of embarrassment, but if that’s my penance for getting to see how his face relaxes and goes soft while he’s staring at me, for experiencing how tender his expression becomes as he lays me back down on the bed, not to mention the feeling I get as he brushes my hair away from my face with his callused hand—which, by the way, spreads electrical sparks of pleasure skittering over my body—I’d do it again and again. It’d be worth dying of humiliation… easily.
“Did you take some medication for the cramping?” he asks, making me blink.
“I’m sorry?”
“For the cramping, Ena. Did you take something for it?”
“Uh…”
“You’re beautiful when you blush, baby, but if we’re going to be married this is something we will deal with. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Now, did you take something for the cramping?”
“It’s in my bathroom on my sink. I uh… it…” I swallow and try to catch my breath. “It was too much effort to walk in and get it,” I finally murmur, feeling lame.
“Right,” he whispers, his face getting tight as he lays me back down on the bed.
“I…”
“Be right back,” he says before I can think of what to say.
“Okay,” I murmur to no one but myself because by the time I get out the word, Marco is already disappearing into my bathroom. I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing, but I do it smiling because the man that I have been more than a little in love with since first watching him brush my best friend’s hair out of her face and bandaging a scrape on her knee is taking care of me and treating me like I’m special.
Like I matter.
It’s a heady feeling. It’s the best feeling ever. It is as beautiful as I always imagined it would be.
My lips spread into a smile. Things will change now. I’m eighteen. Clearly, Marco cares about me. For the first time since the day I became engaged, I am excited for what will happen next.
I look up as Marco comes back into the room, holding a bottle of pain reliever. He’s watching me and he’s giving me a tight smile. That doesn’t bother me. I don’t think Marco is used to smiling. I vow that when we’re married, I’m going to find ways to make him smile every day.
“I’m going to go get you a water,” he says.
“I could just use the water in the bathroom sink. There are disposable cups—”
“I’ll bring you a bottled water. Have you eaten anything today?”
“No,” I whisper, my heart forgetting to beat for a second.
“I’ll bring you some food, too. Any requests?”
“I’d kill for something salty right now,” I answer honestly. His lips twitch and it’s not a full smile, but it’s an almost smile, so I think it counts.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Once he’s out the door, I lick my lips, forcing myself not to giggle with glee at the joy coursing through me. When my stomach contracts and I’m hit with another wave of cramps, I don’t even care. It doesn’t matter. This is the best day ever.
The. Best.
Chapter 4
Marco
As I come back into Helena’s bedroom, I frown. My gaze glances around taking it all in and I’m not happy—not at all. The reason I’m not happy is probably stupid, but it’s there all the same.
Helena’s room looks like a guest suite.
There’s no personality. There’s none of the things you would think a girl would have in her room—even if that girl is eighteen now. My sister has a shit father that I’ve tried to shield her from and one of the ways me or one of my brothers—besides the two assholes—is to give her a little bit of normalcy. That meant Melina’s room had ballerina slipper pink walls—I know the color because I asked Louise—Melina’s nanny at the time—to take her shopping and find out what color she wanted her room. I also had her pick out bedcoverings and curtains and I made sure she’d be successful because I gave her my credit card to do it. I went a few steps further and had Louise make sure she got things to hang on the wall, a big fluffy chair and matching ottoman so she could have a reading corner, a lamp for said corner, as well as toys that would make her happy but keep her occupied. I did all of this because there were more times than naught that I needed Melina to stay in her room away from my father’s wrath. I knew that was more likely to happen if she had a room she liked, a room she loved. I didn’t know how to give her that, but I knew Louise who had three kids of her own and a bunch of grandchildren would. While Melina was off to school that following week and our father took Atlas and Aden to Italy for a business meeting, me, Sebastian, Gio, and Elias all painted Melina’s room and moved her new stuff in.
