He says nothing as I cross the room, set my plate on the desk and take the chair opposite him.
"Eat," I tell him, nodding toward his untouched plate. "You don't want to let it go cold."
"Katya." He says my name as though it's the beginning of an argument he's too tired to have.
"Eat. I'm not leaving until you do."
He shuts his eye for a moment. Then he opens it. I look at him steadily across the desk. Up close, his eye is a mess. The eyelid is scarred and the eye itself is milky white. There's only a hint of blackness where his pupil lies.
I study him brazenly, making sure he knows I'm taking in every detail and it doesn't repulse me. Then I pick up my fork and start to eat.
He picks up his fork. He lifts it to his mouth and raises his other hand to shield the movement.
"Gabriele," I keep my voice even. "Lower your hand."
"Katya."
"There's only me here. Lower your hand."
An internal debate rages in his head, the arguments playing out on his face as he purses his lips, relaxes, then screws up his nose. Then, slowly, he lowers his hand to the desk and begins to eat. Chewing is obviously difficult for him. I want to ask about his injuries, the impact they have on him, but that's not a conversation either of us is ready for yet.
Instead, I tell him about the wine Lorenzo sent, that I looked up the vineyard and have fallen in love with the place.
"It's impressive." Gabriele's tone holds no small measure of pride, making me even more curious about why he doesn't talk about his brothers. "The place was a disaster when he bought it, you know. He built it back up."
"I'd love to visit someday." I sip my wine and watch Gabriele carefully as I ask. "Will he come for your birthday?"
He shakes his head. "He's busy. They both are."
"But it's your thirtieth," Lukas let that slip the other day.
"It's no big deal, Katya."
I hear the lie for what it is but I don't challenge him on it. I don't want to get into a fight when I have a different agenda this evening.
"From now on I want you to eat in the dining room with me." I set my fork down. "Not every night, of course, but when you're available."
He looks at me. "I didn't think you'd want…." He gestures to his face.
"Don't make assumptions about what I want, Gabriele. I'm not a child." As if to prove my point, I drink a mouthful of wine. "I want to have dinner with my husband."
Gabriele nods and I allow myself a small smile. If only all battles were so easily won. He picks up his fork and finishes his food.
"I'll come to you later," he tells me.
Back in my room, I sit on the bed with my phone and look at the website for Lorenzo's vineyard once more. A woman answers and I ask to speak to Lorenzo, adding a per favore for good measure. There's a pause before she transfers my call. I didn't expect it to be so easy to reach him.
"Lorenzo Volante," he purrs down the line.
"Hello, my name is Katya Kuznetova."
"I think you mean Volante," he says, with a hint of amusement.
I go still for a moment. "He told you about me?"
"Gabriele didn't tell me anything." The intonation in his voice tells me someone else does. I wonder if my husband knows we have a spy in our midst. "Congratulations, by the way.Beauty and the Beast,right?”
Ah, he saw those trashy headlines too. The bitterness in his voice speaks of an instinct to protect his older brother. Gabriele is lucky he has at least one brother who cares for him. Whether he realises that or not is another matter.
