She exhaled, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay, well when we got to our suite, he opened a bottle of champagne and poured us both a glass. The way he was looking at me made me uncomfortable.” She shifted in her seat. “Like he was a hunter and I was his prey.”
I rubbed my hands together as I took in the information, letting her get her thoughts out. “He was already wasted from the wedding so he chugged his, then undid his tie and urged me to drink my glass. As soon as I finished, he was trying to get me out of my dress.”
Brow furrowing, I wondered why that was upsetting to her. Sex was expected on a wedding night. They were newlyweds and should’ve been all over each other.
She was wringing her hands, and I could tell by how she was scrunching her face that she was trying not to cry. “I told him I wasn’t ready, but he just laughed in my face.”
Wasn’t ready? Things started to click into place and I tensed. “Wait, are you a virgin?” I blurted out, interrupting her before she could continue.
She blinked rapidly, darting her eyes down to her hands in her lap. “Yes.”
My jaw clenched and I balled my fists. That asshole tried to force himself on her.
Gianina wiped the tears from her cheeks again. “I knew that I was supposed to have sex with him; he was my husband and it was our wedding night. But when the time came, I just … I just wasn’t ready. We barely knew each other and he didn’t even take the time to get to know me.”
I was so angry. If he wasn’t dead already, I would kill him myself. What kind of man tries to force himself on a woman who isn’t ready? Wife or not, that wasn’t right.
She sniffled. “I pushed him away, then ran into the other room, but he chased me and I couldn’t get the door closed before he reached me. The force of him ramming into the door threw me backwards and he used that momentum to tackle me on to the bed.”
I wanted to punch something. My palms were starting to hurt from my nails digging into them.
Gianina’s words were coming out more rushed as she continued the story, “I tried to fight him off but he backhanded me, making my vision blur for a few seconds. In that time, he was trying to get my dress off but couldn’t so he just pushed it up and tried prying my legs apart. I kept telling him to stop but he wouldn’t listen. Luckily, he was so focused and drunk he didn’t notice the knife I had in my garter.”
I knew where the story was going, especially since I cleaned up the body, but I let her continue, knowing how cathartic getting everything out was.
“When I realized he wasn’t going to stop, I just panicked. I grabbed the knife and stabbed him in the neck.”
She took a shaky breath, her eyes wide as she brought them up to mine again. “I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted him to stop.” She started hyperventilating. “There was so much blood …so much blood.”
The last word turned into a sob and she fell against my chest. I instinctively wrapped my arms around her, holding her as she cried.
She felt so good in my arms. Like she belonged there.
Rubbing my hand up and down her back, I tried to calm her down. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe now. He won’t be able to hurt you again.”
Gianina’s small frame trembled against me, cries her only response for several minutes. When she stopped crying, I felt her body tense. Pulling back abruptly, she apologized, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump all my emotions on you like that.”
I smirked. “No problem. Do you feel better?”
She let out a sigh of what I hoped was relief. “I do actually. Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
The sun had set, and I could feel the change in temperature, even with the heat on. “I’m gonna start a fire. How about some s’mores and hot cocoa?”
A huge smile spread across her blotched face, and she let out a small laugh. “We haven’t even eaten dinner yet.”
I shrugged. “Who says we can’t have dessert first?”
She giggled again. “Okay.”
My plan to cheer her up seemed to be working as I went to the fireplace and tossed some of the wood I’d chopped into it. Then, I lit the pile on fire before going into the kitchen to make the hot cocoa.
I put two mugs of hot chocolate and all the supplies for the s’mores on a tray, then carried it to the coffee table in front of Gianina. I knelt down on the rug that was in between the coffee table and fireplace, then grabbed a marshmallow and skewer.
Gianina slid off the couch to kneel beside me on the floor. When our eyes met, her cheeks turned pink.
My stomach knotted. Against my better judgment, I felt like I was developing a crush on her. Darting my eyes away, I focused on the fire as I stuck my marshmallow in the flames. “My brother and I used to love doing this when we were kids. We’d make a fort right out here in the living room with all the extra sheets and stuff ourselves with s’mores until we got sick.”
