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He’s still a stranger to me in so many ways, and yet, he’s bringing out a side of me I’ve never explored before. Do I want to explore it? Deep down, I think yes.
With a huff, I grab the lingerie and slip into it. The bra cups make my breast look bigger, and the lacey fabric helps me feel even more feminine. I’ve always been an awkward person, but wearing this … I feel like a grown woman for the first time.
I lay down on the bed, my heart beating so fast it hurts. Can I do this? Only one way to know.
I place my hands on my stomach and rest them, unsure how to proceed. I know the basics, of course, but I’ve never really had the desire to do this before. Closing my eyes, I think of Leo’s handsome face and charming words and finally slide my hand down between my legs.
I feel around, trying to find a spot that feels good. When my fingers find my sensitive nub, I gasp. Ok. That felt good. I spend time running my finger over it with my eyes closed and Leo’s face in my mind.
After a while and no progress, my hand starts to cramp. I huff and drop my hand to my side, feeling defeated. I know this is supposed to result in an orgasm, but I didn’t feel anything of the sort. Just frustration and guilt.
In my household, I was taught to never do anything like this. It’s sinful. I’m supposed to wait to experience pleasure with my husband on my wedding night. Except, here’s Leo, trying to get me to do something else. And I fell for it.
I tried. But the results? Disappointing.
I quickly change back into my normal pajamas and slip under the covers, trying to put the whole experiment behind me.
* * *
Emilia checksin on me the next morning. I love my sister, but she seems to need to constantly make sure I’m ok. While I appreciate her attention, it’s slightly overbearing. I’m an introvert after all. Solitude is my resting place.
I haven’t even gotten dressed for the day when she comes in and makes herself comfy on the bed next to me. “I thought we could spend another day together.”
“Yeah, sure. But … aren’t you supposed to be finding me a husband? That’s what Mom did for you and Gemma.”
“I know. And I’ve been thinking over some prospects. Some of Marco’s men who I know are good men. I was just waiting for you to let me know when you were ready. I didn’t want to be pushy.”
“That’s nice. Thank you. Do you … have anyone in mind?”
She rubs her hand over her belly. “I did ask Marco about Henry because it seemed like you were having a nice conversation with him yesterday.” My mind flashes to the handsome man I met at the museum. “He’s come over before. I’ve never seen him myself, but Marco says Henry is a good man as far as he’s aware. Marco’s never had any issues with him, so that’s promising. Maybe we could invite him over, and you could get to know him better.” She loops her arm through mine. This closeness isn’t something I normally do with my siblings, even Emilia. “There’s no need to rush into this. Since I’ve made a good marriage match with Marco, that’s really helped our family, so you don’t need to worry about the pressure.”
“Does no one care if I even get married? Mom hasn’t even called me since I’ve been here. None of our siblings have. Does it even matter?”
Emilia sighs, resting her head on my shoulder. “Mom cares. She just struggles to show it.”
I think back to that night Franco hit our mom across the face. I open my mouth to tell Emilia, but something stops me.
Instead, I say, “Mom always forgets about me. I’m used to it by now.”
“Doesn’t make it ok. But Mom does love you. She loves all of us. The lengths she’s gone to protect us … It makes her braver than I think she gets credit for.”
“How so?”
“Have you ever noticed Franco being rough with her?” I freeze and can’t respond. Emilia continues. “He hurts her, but she puts up with it because she doesn’t want him to hurt anyone else. The only way to get Franco out of that house is Antonio taking over. But that won’t be for at least another month or so. Not until he turns eighteen and claims his rightful place as boss of the family business.”
“I never knew,” I whisper.
“She doesn’t really want anyone to know. He’s hurt her in unimaginable ways.”
I snuggle in closer to Emilia, seeking her comfort. “How?”
Emilia is silent for a moment before saying, “The twins might be his children.”
I lift my head. “But I thought they were Dad’s. Before he passed away, Mom got pregnant.”
“There was a pretty short turn around from when Dad died and Franco moved in, and Mom was pregnant just a little while later. She denies it, but it’s because she knows the truth. Lucia and Luca are Franco’s kids, not our dad’s.”
All the air leaves my body. It never occurred to me to even think about it. To consider it. I’m usually in my own world, alone in my room. I never tried to help my mom, but then again, I didn’t know she needed help.
