He clears his throat again, and just when I think he’s going to tell me who this girl is, he says, “I’m sorry,tesoro mio, but Chiara doesn’t have any friends named Liana, and I don’t know of any Liana’s either.”
I crinkle my brow. He just lied to me. I know my husband well, and those words that just came out of his mouth are a lie.I know it.He does know who Liana is, but why won’t he tell me?
“You can’t tell your husband about me.”
Liana’s words come rushing back to my mind. At first, I assumed she might’ve been after me with ill intentions, but the more I think about our interaction, the more I realize I never truly felt scared around her.
“I just want to talk. Please. Meet me at the address tomorrow.”
There was absolute and utter desperation in her tone but nothing threatening.
“What else did she want?” Ignazio says.
There’s a little voice in my head that’s telling me to keep everything else to myself.
“Nothing specifically. She tried to talk to me about something but then left in a rush. It was the strangest interaction.” I try to brush it off like it was nothing, hoping Ignazio doesn’t push me for the truth.
He stares at me for a moment, then lets out a sigh. “That is quite strange. Is there anything else you can tell me about the interaction? Maybe I can locate her and see what it is she wanted to speak with you about. I don’t feel very comfortable knowing someone is out there stalking my wife.”
I brush his hand with mine, squeezing his arm lightly. “No, no. That’s not necessary. I’m sure she just had me confused with someone else. I figured I’d bring it up to you just in case you knew, but since you don’t know who I’m talking about, I’m just going to forget about it. Hopefully, she finds whomever she meant to find.”
Setting down my book on my nightstand, I turn and give Ignazio a kiss on the cheek. Smiling at him, I say, “I’m going to get some rest now.Bona notti.”
“Goodnight,tesoro mio,” he says, then I turn onto my side, giving Ignazio my back.
I slide my hands under my head and let out a small sigh, willing my mind to shut off so I can get some sleep and figure out if I should meet with that girl tomorrow. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long before I succumb to the darkness and I’m falling into a deep sleep.
“What about this one, Mom?”
I take the sketch my daughter hands me and admire the beautiful emerald-green floor-length gown she drew.
I gasp. “This is beautiful, Liana.”
“I think this is what you should wear to the charity gala,” she says, beaming at me as she sits at the dining room table.
“Oh, yeah, and who will make this for me?” I say with a smile.
“I will, of course.” She says it as if I should’ve already known. Silly me.
“You’re going to make this? How, my darling daughter?”
“I just need some material, but I can totally have this ready in time if we can get the stuff today.”
“Are you sure? This is a much grander design than the ones you typically make for yourself, sweetheart.”
“Of course.” She smiles brightly at me. “I would love to make this for you, Mom. Please, will you let me?”
I glance down at the sketch once more. It’s an extremely detailed design. A mermaid silhouette with intricate beading on the side of the skirt that flows into the bodice. It’s incredibly impressive that my little eleven-year-old drew it, let alone can make it.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
She claps her hands excitedly. “Oh, yay, thank you, Mom!” She jumps up from her seat and wraps her little arms around my waist. “You’re going to be my first model! I can’t wait to tell Daddy!”
I laugh, giving her the biggest hug back.
“Why don’t you go put your shoes on and grab your coat. I’ll tell Daddy we’re heading out for a little bit.”
“Okay!” she squeals, running down the hallway.
