Diavolo

xxv

SILVIO

I didn't know the first thing about caring for a woman. Goddamn it, I didn't know the first thing about caring for this woman.

No matter what I did—no matter how quickly I escaped, or how close I came to slipping into the car, I couldn't escape the woman. I couldn't get far away from her to be able to breathe properly.

It was so goddamn impossible. She was always there. Existing. It started slowly, almost intense like a rush of aching love.

She walked in the room, smiling like always with this look of trust in her eyes always directed at everyone but never me. And then she laughed, loudly. Head tipping back, her eyes on the ceiling sparkling with little shards of honey brown pools.

A feeling of intensity rushed through me almost painful in the way of being unbearable but wanting to experience everything it offered.

I always wondered if she felt this invisible thread between us as well, this spark burning whenever either of us walked into the room. If she ran away from me every time because I tugged at it too hard.

Because it always hurt whenever she got closer, and whenever she left.

I bit harder and harder, and she dug into me, deeper and deeper. And for the first time in my years of living on this goddamn world, she was leaving me raw and exposed. With no protection.

I'd told myself I wouldn't cross the line anymore. I'd crossed the line last week when I showed her a little bit of my world, shared personal information with her and answered her questions.

I planned to keep my distance when I got back from my trip, ignoring the urge to call and check in on her every time she crossed my mind.

Translation: Every single hour of every damn day.

I couldn't help myself again on the last day of my trip, cutting the meeting short by two days to make it back to see her.

        I was slowly finding out I had never denied myself of anything in this world except her.

I stood awkwardly by the isle of the store, my gaze shifting down all the options of tampons. Which one? Was I supposed to get all of them?

I instructed Tommaso to drop Presley back at the apartment and I sought out to buy her tampons.

She'd confessed that she was out of feminine products and initially, I would have ordered Tommaso to fetch them but Presley didn't feel comfortable.

She didn't want to make Tommaso uncomfortable and offered to buy it herself but I disagreed.

Why the hell would she have to do that if she had me? For fucks sake, I was her damn fiancé. Fake or not, she wore my goddamn rings on her finger.

As I was about to reach over and decide on a certain size or type of tampon, my cellphone began to vibrate, causing me to pause.

My eyes slid over the screen taking note of the commander of the message which was Presley.

Angel: are you allergic to any type of dogs?