TWENTY-FIVE
Violetta
For three daysnow I've hung around the palazzo like a fool, waiting for Damiano to return. Though nobody's forbidden it, I don't return to work or go back to my own apartment.
Instead I've spent hours in the sitting room reading books I have little interest in, or in the pool working off my frustrations.
Twice a day I venture into the gardens for fresh air and a change of scenery. Stefano appears at my back, a silent shadow walking three paces behind. His looming presence makes me want to scream.
Everything does right now. I torture myself trying to work out why he told me I could leave. Why then, when I surrendered the part of me I'd held back? Did he decide he didn't want me anymore? Was he trying to be noble?
Nothing makes sense. I need to see him, to make him explain. But when I try to call him, his phone goes to voicemail.
When I ask any of the staff where he is, they're evasive. In fact, Gianni told me outright my husband is dealing with a personal matter and it's none of my business. That smarted.
Though I'm sure the entire household knows my husband and I have been sleeping separately, I am still Damiano's wife. It should count for something.
Lina has tried to cheer me up, feeding me my favorite dishes, but she won't tell me anything either. Her sympathetic glances are becoming hard to bear.
Deciding I've shredded my dignity enough, I pull a suitcase from the back of the closet and open it on the bed. I start to pack my things. I'm folding the emerald green dress Damiano seemed to like so much when there's a knock at the door.
Lina steps into the room, a cup of coffee in hand.
"I thought you'd like..." Her voice trails off as she takes in the case on the bed and the dress in my hand.
Putting the cup of coffee down on the dressing table, she comes and sits on the bed.
"What's all this, Violetta?" She gestures to the pile of clothes.
Though I'm glad she's finally addressing me by my name as I've requested she do a million times since I married Damiano, I don't feel like explaining myself right now.
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
"Making a silly mistake."
"A mistake?" Realizing I'm practically yelling, I bring my volume down a notch. "Lina, he walked away from me. I gave him every last part of me and he walked away."
Sorrow fills me at the thought. I sink down onto the bed beside her.
Lina gives me a look of mock disapproval. "I don't even want to know what every last part of you means."
I burst out laughing, which I'm sure was her intention. She grabs my hand and squeezes it tightly.
"Did you give him the only part that matters?" she asks. "Did you give him your heart?"
"No, but..."
Lina raises her hand to silence me and I shut up immediately. I have great respect for this woman and if she has something to say I'll listen.
"No matter how great the sex is, it means nothing if you don't tell each other how you feel."
"I don't know how I feel."
She gives me a pointed look. "Yes you do. He has your heart and you have his and neither of you has told the other."
"I shouldn't have to tell him."
Lina scoffs at that. "He's a man, Violetta. You need to tell him straight. If you truly love him, that is."
