Wicked Dance [Editing]

Eleven

Contessina

I shouldn't care, like he didn't care.

My conscience was clean, I hadn't flirted with any man, much less a man of God. I shouldn't care because that man was forcing me into a marriage I did not want. I shouldn't care because he could think whatever he wanted, I would still sleep my eight hours without a worry.

Lie, I cared. I lost sleep because I cared. I tossed and turned because I didn't want to be known as a liar, because I was not a liar. I may omit things, I may evade questions, I may edge around the truth but I was no liar.

Even when I was trying to follow Antonio's words, to pretend, I was just acting, not lying fully. I was just pretending to be the person Matteo made me out to be not saying things that weren't true and even pretending was a far stretch of what I was doing because with each passing day, I struggled with being who I was and being who he wanted me to be, being what people assumed.

I was struggling to not know about the man who ate breakfast with me every morning, who came very late every day. I tried not to know more about him but with each session with the priest, with each day I spent in this beautiful house, I found out more and I was mad at myself for knowing. I found out things unwittingly because if I wanted to know about him, I would have searched him up but I hadn't even touched my phone, why would I when there was no reason to use it.

I hadn't heard from Antonio and it bothered me somewhat but I had been used to it before. We wouldn't talk for weeks but those were different times, this was something new and he should be calling me, finding ways to get me out, planning with me.

But there was nothing.

But I willed myself to be positive. To think and wait. Patience was the greatest virtue and having been born to this, I knew I had to be patient because Antonio hadn't forgotten about me. If what Vivi said was right, there was more to deal with and I had to wait.

I barely left the house, not because I couldn't, I could. Brian and Tom- my security detail- were always ready if I wanted to leave. I had a card with the Astor last name to use as I pleased. I had wedding details to see but throughout the days, I only found myself going to the studio up until lunch time, spending the rest of my evening enjoying the quietness of the house.

When Mayra or the wedding planner didn't come to go over the wedding, I found myself sitting in the garden with a book I stole from the library. I found myself in the kitchen watching as Juliette cooked lunch or dinner. Found myself wandering from room to room, talking to the people who worked here, trying to see what secrets lay in the Astor mansion.

I found a lot. I found paintings. I found books and books on music. I found worn down pencils. I found a piano tucked away in one of the rooms, far away from anyone. I found an abandoned dream.

I was awed and confused. I had thought this man hated the arts but noticing everything around his house- the paintings that I didn't recognize, the sheets of music I did- I realized he didn't. A person who hated the arts did not have all of this unless he wanted to burn them but each item was in near perfect condition, used but still taken care of.

I began to wonder if he just hated ballet in general. If he had wanted to be a dancer- I doubted, his body was for other things, not for dancing- a painter or musician. Maybe he was jealous but there was something about him that told me that Matteo Astor did not get jealous or even wished for anything else. I mean, he had money, power, he could be whoever he wanted but he chose this, to be a Senator, a lawyer, to be a banker.

I wanted to ask him but asking him meant talking to him and it was enough to sit with him constantly. It was enough to find things unwittingly, lies or not. I didn't know if he lied like he thought I did or if he was being sincere. I didn't know if what he said was the truth or just nonsense, making up everything as we went.