Sarah closes the front door behind him, and I sit down in my seat in the living room to give our conversation some thought.
Stella deserves to have things made right for her. I’m her husband. I should care for her, nurture her, be there for her, mentally, emotionally … physically.
And I’ve failed on all accounts.
I’ve never felt so goddamn powerless in my life.
Women.
I grumble to myself as I pace about, wondering how I’m going to fix this, how I’m going to cure myself of thispoisonous hatred for the Agostinis that’s seeping into my soul, staining everything it touches.
No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, she’ll never forgive me …
Not until I give her a reason to.
I pause and stare at her door.
If I give her the one thing she wants more than anything, maybe she can see me as less of a monster and more of a man. Her man.
I walk up the stairs and head straight for her room, but when I grab the doorknob, I pause and knock instead. I don’t want to bust into her room uninvited.
Planting my head against the wood, I wait and listen for a sign.
“Stella?”
Stella
His voice calling my name makes me look up at the door immediately.
I should ignore him since all he wants to do is use me to his own heart’s content just to avenge his mother, and I refuse to be a pawn in his game. Yes, I tried to use my body against him, but he stole my hand and made me his wife. Fight evil with evil is what my momma always taught me.
But somewhere down the line, everything became blurry. And my heart doesn’t know what it wants anymore.
He knocks on the door again, and I get up from my seat in the corner of the room and walk over to open it myself.
His hand is still midair when our eyes meet, mine stained with tears, and I swiftly brush them away.
“What do you want?”
I’m done playing nice.
“Can I ask you … a favor?”
I roll my eyes, turn around, and walk away, disappointed that all he came to do was ask for more from me.
How much more can I give until it’s enough?
Before I can get to my seat, he grabs my wrist and forces me to stop.
“Come with me,” he says.
I frown at him. “Why?”
He swallows. “I want to show you something.”
I grimace. “And why would I be interested? Give me one good reason.”
“I don’t think I can tell you. Not yet, at least,” he adds, as if he’s scared I’ll run away again.
