“Grazie, Marta.” I ran upstairs, replaying Gia’s words.Good. Because I’m done too.
God, I prayed she wasn’t done with me. I couldn’t be married to her and not be like a real couple who loved each other. I refused to sleep in separate rooms. Her bed was the only place I’d agree to lie down in after a long, sometimes weary day.
I loved her.
Yes, it sounded crazy to me, too. How could I be in love with her in less than three days? I didn’t have an answer. We’d already experienced so much that it felt like I’d known her my entire life, and in a weird way, I had known about her since she was sixteen.
But I also knew what I felt in my heart. Real, genuine, love and adoration.
I would be a shell of a man if I lost her.
Giovanna had been one hundred percent right. I’d been nonchalant and hadn’t taken Cara’s unacceptable behavior serious enough. We should have left the restaurant immediately.
And my failures had damaged my gracious, kindhearted wife physically and emotionally. Her physical injuries would heal, but like Marta had said, her spirito was not so good.
I didn’t deserve Giovanna, but I would endeavor to prove myself worthy from this day forward. I’d earn back her trust and respect. I’d make her exceedingly happy.
We’d have a beautiful life… if she would have me.
9
Giovanna
I winced in pain as I tried to adjust myself against the pillows. Alessio would arrive soon, and I needed to appear strong and not broken when I told him my father was on his way to take me back to Sicily.
While Marta took care of my horrible feet and legs, I spoke to my papà on the phone and told him what had happened tonight. Naturally, he was furious. Our call had been short and unpleasant. Unpleasant for me when I realized it had been a mistake calling him while I was so emotional and in pain…
“What kind of man puts his young wife in danger like that? Alessio is a disgrace. Call the ceremony off!” he yelled into the phone.
“No, Papà. We have already signed the marriage document. We are legally married.”
“So? Only on paper. I’ll bring you home where I can keep you safe.”
“Papà, please hear me out. I’ve given myself to him. I could be pregnant already.” I winced registering my words. I placed my hand on my stomach, but it was true. As weird as it was to inform my father that I was not a virgin anymore, he needed to know.
“No, Gia. Why didn’t you wait until the ceremony so the Priest could bless your marriage?” A stream of Italian curse words littered the ozone.
I heard my mother ask what had happened. Papà’s retelling was compelling. I should go home. It was in my best interest to leave Alessio.
A knock at my door shook me out of my head.
“Gia, can I come in?” Alessio asked.
“Sì. Come in.” I inhaled a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
“Ciao, Dolcezza,” he said softly and came to my side. He took my hand and pressed his lips against it, lowering onto his knees. “I’m so very sorry. Please. Please forgive me.”
“How is your cut?” I was relieved to see him all cleaned up. “Does it hurt?”
“A little. Marta did well with the stitching. She said six tiny ones. See.” He pointed at his eyebrow. It was refreshing to get direct replies from him instead him blowing it off. “How do you feel?”
“I will heal too. I don’t think I’ll be able to comfortably walk for a few days.” My feet were pretty torn up.
“No worries. I will carry you everywhere.” He teared up staring at me. “You were right.”
“About what?”
“Everything, Dolcezza. Cara. The way I handled what happened. Putting your life in danger. But I promise, nothing like this will ever happen again.”
