The Harsh life

Chapter 18

Giovanni- Now

She's still asleep.

Amara normally wakes up the same time as I do, but today she hasn't.

I've gone for a run and had a short workout in the apartment whilst waiting for her to wake up.

I ordered breakfast which arrived a few minutes ago, I just don't have the heart to wake her up. She looks so peaceful and content whilst sleeping.

She's lying on her frontwith her head facing my side of the bed.

"Mon coeur." I call softly.

She opens one eye and shakes her head.

She ducks under her pillow and attempts to fall back to sleep.

"Breakfast is here." I tell her reaching for her long silky hair.

"No." Is all she says.

"Your coffee will go cold." I say stopping myself for reaching for her.

"Don't care." She simply says and she stays hidden under the pillow.

"I made plans to go to the Louvre today." I say pulling out the big guns.

She jumps up and stares right at me.

"If you're joking I'm going to be really upset." She says and I shake my head.

Amara loves the simple things in life like going to museums and reading. She loves the Louvre it's her favourite museum, I take her every time we come to Paris. It never gets old.

She climbs into my lap and throws her arms around me.

I haven't had her this close in a long time.

"You're the best." She kisses my jaw.

"I mean... duh." I say and she laughs before climbing backwards off my lap, before I have the chance to hold her to me.

Fuck.

"When are we going?" She asks heading into the kitchen which was also connected to the living room.

"Whenever you want to. I was thinking early afternoon, but it's up to you." I say watching her.

Depending on what she picks for breakfast is how I'll know her mental state.

She chooses a croissant and relief washes over me. She's okay.

"That works for me." She sips her coffee.

****
She's been staring at the same piece for a while.

It's her favourite painting, it's called Women of Algiers in their apartment.

I've never understood why she loves it so much, she's never actually told me.

"And we're back..." I say as I stand beside Amara, looking at the photo.

"You know it's my favourite." Is all she says.

I did know that. When she told me how much she loved this photo I did everything to try and buy it but apparently the painting isn't buyable.

I stand a foot behind Amara, glancing up at the photo on the wall.

If I let her, she would stand and stare at this particular painting all day.

Amara reaches her hand behind me and slips her hand into mine, not moving from facing the painting.

"I wish I had friends." She whispers to me.

"You do have friends. You have me and Matteo and Rosie." I tell her.

She doesn't say anything, she just lets out a big sigh.

She's my best friend and my team mate and the love of my life. I already know that she thinks I'm saying we're friends because we're married.

The truth is that yes we are married and I love her but we are also friends. Best friends.

Amara doesn't always believe me when I tell her these things, that's on her parents for making her think she's unloveable.

I've been fighting them for years. Not physically. Mentally to me, I've never wanted to kill someone so bad in my life. The only satisfaction I get is pretending I'm strangling her father to death or when she argues back with them.

I've been fighting away them in her mind. All the years of pain and doubt they caused her. They're hidden in every corner of her life, tormenting her and pulling her down.

I've been fighting them away for a very long time, to make her believe she is loveable and worth everything she's had or even been given.

I love her so much, sometimes she'll believe it, sometimes she won't. There's less doubt now than there was before.

"You're my best friend." I tell her squeezing her hand in mine.

"I though Jax was." She says, still not looking away from the painting.

"He was. But you're a better best friend. I can kiss you." I tell her.

She lets out a soft laugh and turns to me.

"You're my best friend." She says and leans up to press a delicate kiss against my lips.

She pulls back, glances up at the photo.

A smile spreads across her lips and she moves on to another painting she likes, bringing me with her.

****
Late than night when we got home from the Eiffel Tower, I took a work phone call quickly whilst Amara was in the shower.

Once I head into our bedroom, I change out of my clothes and into my sweatpants so I can go to sleep.

Once Amara comes out of the bathroom she ties her hair up and off of her neck. At the same time she grabs the remote for the tv and climbs into bed beside me.

She chooses a movie for us to watch. She rests against the head board, her focus on the tv in front of her.

"Do you want to cuddle?" I ask.

We don't really cuddle anymore, only to comfort her when she's having a breakdown.

I miss it when it was simple and I could hold her whilst I slept and not worry that she was falling apart.

"Uh..." she asks taken back.

"Do you?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.

"I do. Really bad." I admit.

She nods then pushes her self down and close to me as soon as possible.

I take charge and pull her into me. I lift her head to my chest so she can still watch the tv if she wants to.

She wraps a leg around my waist and allows me to hold her to me. I take a breath of relief as she relaxes in my arms.

She's right here.