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There is a tall, flawless woman who looks like she stepped off of a runway, scowling at me. Her hair is chestnut brown, long, and shines. It’s straight, like she ironed it before coming out. She has dazzling blue eyes, perfect skin, a tiny waist, and her breasts are huge. She’s dressed in a designer dress and heels with red bottoms. I know little about designer clothes, but I know those shoes cost a ton from seeing them on television. “Who the fuck are you?”
Her voice is high-pitched and nasally. “I’m Everly. Can I help you?” I can tell she’s not happy to see me, but I have no clue who she is or why she’s here. But if looks could kill, I would drop dead.
She shoves me to the side and steps through the door, approaching the table where the guys are now sitting.
“Gio, who the hell is this skank, and why is she in our house?”
Watching her question Gio, it occurs to me she’s someone important to him.
Marcello almost spits out his coffee. “Uh-oh.”
Gio looks at the woman like she’s got two heads.
“Carla, don’t walk into my house and call my wife a fucking skank. What the fuck are you doing here?”
She moves over to him, wrapping her arm around his neck, and pushes her double-D breasts into him.
Gio is trying to push her hands off of him. In his defense, he isn’t reciprocating at all and looks disgusted.
“Giovanni,” she whines. “Once we are married, this will be my house. You can’t just bring your whores here and expect me to be okay with it.”
Carla’s other hand is running along his chest. She has long, blood-red nails. Seeing her touch on his skin sends a torrent of anger through me.
“Get the fuck off of my husband.” I jerk her by the hair and pull her off of Gio.
“Your husband? He’s my fiancé,” Carla says. Gio freezes in shock. He looks like a deer in headlights.
Marcello sits back and cackles. “Where are the pits of mud when you have a good catfight?”
This seems to bring Gio out of his stunned state. “Marcello, you are not helping!”
I let go of the bitch’s hair, looking at my so-called husband. “Your fiancé?” My voice comes out low, and my body is trembling.
Gio tries to appease me. “It’s not what it sounds like.”
Carla looks smug. “Our families are friends. Our fathers are business associates.” I feel lightheaded and sick to my stomach.
He’s not exactly denying it, and he definitely knows this woman. I can’t be the other woman. I can’t believe I had sex with a man who was engaged to get married. My heart is shattering. I turn around and race from the room. Gio is calling my name, but I don’t stop. Running upstairs to the bedroom, I pull a bag out of the closet and shove just a couple of T-shirts, jeans, underwear, and a bra inside. I’m not taking more than I need to survive. The clothes were paid for with Gio’s money. When I accepted them, I didn’t know that he was using me as his whore. Isn’t that cliche? He bought his mistress expensive clothes. Once I can get a job, I’m paying him back for anything that I take with me. Tears stream down my face. I knew someone like Gio was too good to be true. The motherfucker was cheating on his fiancé. I slept in her bed. Feeling disgusted with myself, I keep packing.
I go into the bathroom to grab toiletries. I am so fucking stupid. Look at her! She’s perfect, and I’m just plain. Poor and homeless. My father didn’t love me, so how can I expect anyone else to? No matter what I do, I will never be good enough for someone like him.
His family didn’t even warn me. I can’t believe that Valerie treated me like a daughter, knowing that her son was engaged to another woman.
I glance up and see myself in the mirror. My face is splotchy and red, my eyes are puffy, and my lips are swollen. My eyes are mournful. I’m sniffling and snotty. No wonder Gio only wanted me for a side piece. I look horrible and pale as a ghost.
I wonder, when he left the house the last few days, if he had been going to see Carla? Maybe that’s why he hasn’t touched me lately. He’s been going to fuck her. I feel nauseous. The thought of him having sex with someone else turns my stomach. Bile creeps up my throat. How dare I allow myself to get so attached? “You fucking idiot,” I chastise myself.
I finish packing, walk over to the bedside, and lay my new phone on the nightstand.
I hear shuffling and yelling downstairs, but I want to avoid more drama. I’m just an unwanted visitor in their home. I already grabbed that poor woman by the hair when she did nothing wrong. I was the one touching her man, not the other way around. I just didn’t know it. Walking through the house, I head toward the side door. It’s on the opposite side of the house that Gio, Carla, and Marcello are in. I doubt he cares if I leave now that his girlfriend has caught him cheating, but I don’t want more confrontation. He can go fuck himself.
My chest hurts right where my heart should be. I guess that’s what a broken heart feels like. I have a heaviness in my chest, and it’s hard to breathe. Rushing out of the house, I run as quickly as I can down the driveway. I try to stay in the treeline so that Carla doesn’t see me. I really don’t want her to ask more questions. I’m angry at Gio, but I’m ashamed of myself. I feel dirty knowing that I’ve been with a man who was engaged to another woman. I feel awful that I’ve been living with and had sex with her fiancé. I would never have done that had I known, but that won’t make it any better. I run harder and faster than I have ever run in my life.
Giovanni Martinelli has turned me into exactly what my father wanted. He turned me into a whore.
Gio
“Dammit, Carla! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
