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“He said that?”
“How can you doubt it? Have you ever seen Victorio even look at another woman since the two of you have been spending time together?”
I think about it for a bit, but I already know the answer. If I had caught Victor flirting with another woman, it would have hurt me so deeply that I wouldn’t be able to forget it. In the past year, there have been a bunch of women flirting with him, but he always ignored them and concentrated on me.On me.Wow. Suddenly my heart pounds against my chest.
“I guess not,” I admit.
“Exactly. He’s completely and utterly wrapped up in you. He doesn’t look at you and see that scar. He doesn’t see anything other than the woman he wants to claim.”
“Claim?”Eek.
“Why do you sound panicked? Don’t tell me you don’t want him, Angelina! I willnotbelieve you.”
“No, I want him,” I confess.
“Then, what’s the problem?”
I bite my bottom lip and try to figure out how to explain. I love Emilia. I really do. Yet, I’ve never shared with anyone about my rape. I’ve never confessed that I’ve never had sex—at least consensual.
“I’m scared, Emmie.”
“What of, honey?” she asks gently, slowly sitting up so she can reach her hand out to me. I take it and she pulls me over to her sofa and I sit down beside her.
“I want him. I really do. It’s just…”
“Just what?” she prompts when I can’t get it out.
“I think I’m broken. I want Victor, but there’s a good chance I’ll freeze if I try to go there with him.”
“You haven’t had sex since the um…since…well?—”
“Since my attack,” I respond, rescuing her. I don’t want to tell her that I’ve never had sex other than the rape. She’s having enough trouble talking about my rape. Everyone does. Heck, I don’t want to talk about it either. It’s easier to pretend it was all a horrible nightmare.
“You’ll be safe with him, Angelina. He’ll take care of you. He’d do anything to make it good for you. I would go as far to say that no other man would be as gentle with you as Victorio would. You just need to trust him.”
“That’s the problem. I trust him. It’s me I’m worried about.”
“What are you afraid will happen?” she questions.
“I could have a panic attack. Hell, crying and screaming are possible. My memories might overtake me. I’m terrified of making a fool of myself and completely turning Victor off. I mean, nothing ruins the perfect moment like a full-blown panic attack and the woman screaming like a banshee.”
She tightens her hold on my hand and cups the side of my face.
“Angelina, I need you to listen to me. You just need to trust Victorio to handle whatever happens. I promise you he won’t let you down.”
“How do you know?” I’m desperate to believe her. I’m hoping she has magic words that will make me calm down—even if I know realistically it’s not possible.
“Because that man is in love with you, honey. He’d cut off his own hand to keep from hurting you. He wouldn’t even try to go there with you unless he was positive. You need to believe in him like he believes in you.”
“I wish I was as positive about this as you are,” I laugh, unable to keep the worry out of my voice.
“Let me ask you a question.”
“Okay.”
“When he was kissing you a bit ago, was panic anywhere in your head?”
“Well, no. I was kind of lost in the moment.”
