AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Out steps my father.
Dammit.
He halts in his step, his gaze sweeping over me critically. He knows I’ve been up to no good and the guilt on my face isn’t helping my case. Panicking, I scramble to think of excuses, but my brain freezes.
I am so busted.
Humiliated, I drop my gaze, trying valiantly to cover the panic rushing through me. If this were my mother, I’d have a string of lies ready on the tip of my tongue. I’d be galvanized by the desire to one-up her. But this is my father. My good, kind, humble father. Facing him, I wrap my arms around myself.
He pats my shoulder awkwardly. “Marku texted me.” My eyes dart to his. He doesn’tlookangry. He leans over and places a kiss on my forehead. “Congratulations, you are now a Popescu.”
My face flushes with embarrassment and shame. “You hate the Popescus.”
“Ihatedthe Popescus. But we’re at peace now.” I snort lightly.Since when did a peace treaty change anyone’s feelings about a rival clan?“The most important thing,” he goes on, “is that my daughter has the protection of a strong man with an influential position in a powerful clan.”
“The Lupu clan is better,” I huff, offended.
“That is true, but do not underestimate Marku’s clan. They are clever and ruthless. It’s quite a combination. And more importantly, he’s a good, strong man and he loves you. He’ll do anything for you, and he has a mighty clan to back him up.”
I flush red again. “He doesn’tloveme.”
“Of course, he does,” he intones solemnly. “He texted me last night to let me know you were with him.”
OMG, can this get any more embarrassing? But at the same time, my chest warms with pride that he showed my father the respect he deserves.
“He didn’t want me to worry, in case I discovered that you were missing. He promised to take care of you and he even suggested I pretend I don’t know anything about it to avoid embarrassing you. He knows you so well. And I would’ve taken his advice,” he pauses theatrically with an arched brow. “If you hadn’t bumbled up the stairs with about as much grace as an elephant.”
I roll my eyes. “Ugh, I was so graceful. And stealthy.” I pull on my leggings. “I even dressed like a ninja.”
He laughs. “Hmm, if you’d tried to pull it off, I would’ve let you, but you looked so guilty...”
“Good to know for next time,” I reply wryly.
“I’m not suggesting you make this a pattern,” he warns. “You two are married. You’re not doing anything wrong. But your mother…your friends… It’s best for everyone involved to wait until you have a public wedding. Then you can traipse around doing what you want whenever you want.”
I grab him around the waist and lean into him, breathing in his familiar, warm scent. My heart thumps in my chest when I feel his ribs protruding through his cotton pajama top and flannel robe. I lift on my toes and kiss his cheek. “Yes,Tata. You’re right,Tata.”
He chuckles indulgently, squeezes my shoulder, and pushes me toward my room. “Get in there and change before your mother notices. I’m not in the mood to start the weekend with World War Three.”
Nodding, I enter my bedroom and swiftly close the door behind me and lean back against it. My shoulders droop and I drop my head in relief. The cream flower-patterned voile curtains flutter as a light breeze floats over me from the open window. Heaving myself away from the door, I unclip my black belt bag from around my waist and drop it on the chest of drawers. I languidly walk across the room, sink onto my bed, and pull off my black ballet slippers, kicking them underneath the bed with my heel.
Who knew a forced arranged marriage—and a secret one at that—would mend our broken relationship? Not only were we able to hash out problems that had festered for years, but I came to realize just how much he’d suffered. Not just over his brother’s death, although that was bad enough. But over his guilt and how his feelings of worthlessness was behind what happened in that boys’ locker room. I’m not known to be a forgiving person but with those realizations, my grudge evaporated like steam rising from a pot of boiling water.
I close the shades, throw on a nightie, and jump into bed. Propped up against the headboard, I pull open the drawer of my night table. Nestled inside is the silk square pocket handkerchief that he handed me to fix my lipstick after we were pronounced married. I had refused to wipe my mouth, crushing the delicate silk in my hand and twisting it into knots for the half hour it took to get out of the church and back home. I threw it in here with the engagement and wedding rings that I’d struggled to take off.
For the first time, I voluntarily touch the delicate Cartier diamond solitaire Marku offered me during the worse marriage proposal ever. I’d instantly admired it, even if I’d pretended to be disgusted by it.
Diamonds are my birthstone and Marku had chosen a ring that celebrates diamonds. It’s an enormous round brilliant-cut diamond, circled by a ring of small diamonds, on a platinum band paved with diamonds. It’s diamonds upon diamonds. This is the ring they’re talking about when they say diamonds are a girl’s best friend. The matching wedding band is also plastered in diamonds. The combo is a diamond extravaganza.
I slip them on and raise my hand, admiring their brilliance even in the dusky light of the room. It hits me right then and there. I know my mission. It goes beyond the step of forgiveness. I will fix him. I will pour my energy into loving him and helping him heal. Everything will be how it was before Cristian died. No, it will be better.
I grab my phone, cradling it for a moment as I admire the rings on my finger, and shoot him a silly text. No answer. I wait a bit longer, shifting my butt into my pillows. Still nothing. I frown down at the text I sent. It remains unread. I left his house less than an hour ago. Where could he have gone?
My phone chimes.
I break into an expectant smile as I check my messages.
My face falls.
