Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“This is my friend, Giulia,” Elena says, waving me inside.
A small woman with a bob haircut walks over, smiling awkwardly. “Hello, Mr. Moretti.”
“Hi,” I say, looking around the small apartment.
“I know it’s no townhouse,” Elena mutters.
Before I can reply, a voice rises, taut with anxiety. “Elena,” she calls. “Elena!”
“That’s Aunt Rosa,” Elena whispers. “Excuse me. Uh, make a drink or something if you want.”
“I can do that,” Giulia says. “Coffee?”
“Sure.”
“You can take a seat,” Elena says, leaving me.
I sit on the couch. The cushions are almost entirely flat, the fabric threadbare. I can’t help thinking this isn’t the sort of place Elena belongs, which is a goddamn joke. This is the sort of place she’s lived in her entire life. I can see why my place would be such a shock to her. I hear the kettle whining from the adjoined kitchen a moment later, and Elena returns. Her cheeks are flushed in that cute way. Somehow, I think if I told her how adorable she looks right now, she’d give me more sass.
“Aunt Rosa wants to meet you.”
I stand. “Of course.”
Elena leans in, her scent coming with her. I’m not sure if she’s wearing perfume. It’s more like something primal, triggering something; it’s intoxicating. Shut the fuck up. I roar the words to myself. I need to get a grip. “She’s not well. Her illness makes her head fuzzy. Please don’t take anything she says personally.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got thick skin,” I reply, except where Elena is concerned, apparently.
Elena leads me into the master bedroom. A frail woman sits propped up on cushions. She’s got thin gray hair, her eyes dimmed with pain, but as I get closer, I’m sure I see a flair of determination.
“So you’re the man who’s going to marry my niece, hmm?”
“It’s … a little more complicated than that, ma’am,” I say.
“Don’t worry.” She laughs humorlessly. “She’s told me all about your grand scheme. I should thank you for paying for my physical therapy this morning.”
I lay my hand on my chest. “There are no thanks needed, ma’am. I’d be happy to offer more support if you—”
“Oh, no, no, no.” She glares at me. “My niece hasn’t done her work yet, has she? She hasn’t gone to bed with you, hasn’t sucked you—”
“Rosa,” Elena snaps, marching over to the bed. “Please, don’t talk like that. It’s disgusting and unfair. We’re just trying to do what’s best for you.”
Rosa ignores Elena, staring at me. “How many people did you kill to pay for the therapy? One? Two? Ten? How many? How many?”
“I’m sorry.” Elena puts her hand on my arm as her aunt laughs coldly, detachedly. Tension sizzles between us. “It’s her illness. The pain meds. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
“No apology needed,” I reply. “Ma’am, I won’t hurt your niece. I only want the best for you and her.”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
Elena rushes me out of the room. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“You’ve got no reason to be,” I tell her. I know her situation can’t be easy. “She’s allowed to have her opinion.”
“She doesn’t know what her opinion is. Aunt Rosa would never normally act like that. She hasn’t been herself since …”
Elena begins to cry, then wipes her cheek like she’s angry at herself. I step forward. I think, if her friend weren’t here, I’d pull her into my arms and offer whatever comfort a savage like me can. Then Giulia quickly intervenes, hugging Elena as I walk to the couch and sit down, picking up my coffee and taking a sip.
Elena excuses herself and goes to the bathroom. Guila stands with her hands clasped. “This is very difficult for her.”
“It’s an unusual situation,” I say, “but it’ll be over soon. Then she can go back to her normal life,” but with more cash than she’s ever had. That’s what this is all about. I can’t trust anything, especially my feelings. I have to stay focused.
“Did you mean what you said in there? Sorry, I was eavesdropping, but did you mean it?”
“I’d never hurt her,” I say, “and I want to help Miss Rossi any way I can.”
Giulia nods. “Do you …”
“It’s okay. You can ask me anything.”
She summons some courage. “Do you sincerely care about Elena?”
There’s a reflex in me that makes no damn sense. My natural response is to tell Giulia that I care about her friend. I push the words down my throat like I’m swallowing vomit, let my stomach tighten as I repress whatever the hell this is. “I met her yesterday,” I grunt.
“That’s not an answer to my question,” Giulia replies, staring at me with determination.
“It’s a fact.”
“It still doesn’t answer whether or not you like her.”
“Like her? Am I a teenager? Is this some young-adult romance?”
Elena returns from the bathroom, looking between her friend and me. “What’s going on?”