Instead of rushing him or filling in for him, she waited, remembering this from years ago. Remembering how much he hated people doing that for him. And remembering how Gio was the only one who let him take his time apart from her. Did he miss him? Did Micha miss Gio the way that she missed Gio? Messily? With difficulty? Because he’d been a hard man to love, but also almost impossible not to.
‘Could I come with you?’
‘Yes. I would like that,’ she said, hating that he’d had to ask, knowing how much that would have cost him. That that was how bad things were between them. They were married. They were going to be parents, for heaven’s sake. They had to do better than this.
‘If there’s anything you need, Maria, just ask. Please.’
‘I…’
‘Yes?’
‘I would like us to have a honeymoon.’
‘We are—’
‘Not one that involves work.’
He raised an eyebrow at her, accusingly. Yes, she found itjust asironic as he did thatshewas the one requesting that they take time off work. But maybe just maybe, away from everything they could find some equilibrium. She swept a hand unconsciously over her abdomen, the strange firmness there new and unusual, but full of just so much that she was almost terrified of messing things up. And she really didn’t want that.
‘Okay, a honeymoon,’ he agreed, nodding.
‘And… I want us to find a new home.’
This time his brows shot up into his hair line.
‘Really?’
‘Obviously I’m not expecting you to pay for it—’
‘I can pay for it Maria,’ he growled, interrupting her. ‘What’s wrong with my villa?’
‘It’syours. Notours. I feel like…’ She’d felt like a fool, the night of her wedding. But she couldn’t admit that to him. A silly bride, having expected more than a bed in a spare room. She swallowed. ‘I feel like a guest.’
He frowned. ‘I didn’t mean for that.’
‘I know,’ she replied honestly. ‘But… I think we need a fresh start. A new beginning. As equals as much as partners, and as confidants as much as—’ She’d been about to saylovers. But they weren’t lovers. He couldn’t even bring himself to touch her. And she hated that she knew that. Tiny little tremors fissured out from the cracks in her heart. He hadn’t touched her since the priest had them kiss to secure their vows. And that had been as cold as a fish.
‘I will get my assistant to start looking once you give him a list of your requirements.’
‘Our.’
He blinked at her.
‘Our requirements. And I don’t want your assistant to do it, I want to do ittogether.’
He bit his lip and nodded. ‘Va bene.Is there anything else?’
There was, but she was not at all sure either of them was ready for her request. Yet, if she didn’t speak now, when would she? Would she become like her mother, sitting in silence waiting for her husband to suddenly start caring about her?
‘You agreed that I wouldn’t have a marriage like my parents.’
His eyes narrowed. He seemed almost preternaturally still.
‘Yet that is what you gave me the night of our wedding,’ she said, her insides trembling, worried about what she was asking for. Because that night was something she had absolutely no intention of repeating. Removing the gown herself, in an empty bedroom, all by herself, had been…devastating. She’d scrubbed at the tears that she’d kept silent, and burrowed into the bed beneath the duvet, red eyed and hollow hearted, all the way to dawn.
Micha might have demanded that they work together, but he had remained utterly removed from her in every other way. But she couldn’t live like this. Couldn’t bear to. She’d grown up in the shadow of her mother’s silence, and her father’s absence. It was the one thing, theonething, she’d never wanted for herself. Oh, theirs wouldn’t be a normal marriage. How could it be? But that didn’t mean they couldn’t have companionship, or…or… Her heart stumbled over itself.
‘I… I don’t know what you mean, what you’re asking me for,’ he said, slowly as if just as fearful of where this would go.
