Fuck.I needed to believe him. But it was so hard. The self-doubt crept in again. “I am a fucking bastard child.”
He sighed. “So? It says nothing about you. If your father’s history is what makes you, then are you saying Vitale and the girls are fucking pesticides?”
His vile words agitated me. I pushed him off and stalked to the other side of the room. “You don’t get to say that. They’re not bastards.”
“It’s a simple calculation. The number of times Carlo put his dick in a pussy, it was bound to happen at one point.” He shrugged, watching me carefully. “I’m just glad it resulted in you.”
“I’m not a fucking math problem. This is not a fucking joke.”
“Never said it was. Just trying to get you to look at the big picture.”
I’d had enough of him. “I’m done talking.” I rushed out of the room.
He followed me at my heels into the kitchen. “No, you’re not. I want all your fucking excuses. Right here. Right now. I am done letting you ruin yourself. And if it’s for no good reason, other than that your sperm donor couldn’t keep his dick inside his pants, then that’s not fucking good enough for me.”
“Don’t you get it?” I whirled around, waving my hands in agitation. They were traitorous, trembling, and I caught hold of the kitchen island to keep them out of sight. “He didn’t want me.”
“True.”
I gasped. One sharp word that split me apart. He stalked up to me, melting the gap between us to nothing. “Don’t you get that Carlo didn’t want anyone? He was a selfish bastard who thought only of his own pleasure. Stop entrapping yourself in the eyes of one man who never wanted you. Fuck if I let him ruin you when you have so many people around you who fucking want you in their life.”
I shook my head angrily.No one wants me.
“Ada wants you, doesn’t she?”
Why would she when I wasn’t hers?“I told you I was done talking.” I turned my back to him, but he flipped me around and shoved me against the fridge.
“Doesn’t she?”
“I am not hers.”
“Is that why she brought you up like one of her own? Is that why she’s trying to talk to you? Not giving up on you even though you’ve ignored her for months? You’re killing yourself, and you’re ruining the people around you by doing it.”
I pushed him away and staggered to the other end of the room. “This is what I do. I am not the nice girl you think I am.”
He laughed. “Please. Give me some fucking credit. I never thought you were nice.”
His words hurt me. Even when I knew it was the truth. I wanted to be his nice girl.
“I don’t do nice. I don’t want fucking nice. Fucking nice wouldn’t have got you on your knees sucking my cock. I want you. If you want to burn my clothes and rip my bike, go ahead. If it makes you happy, you can burn the whole damn world, and I’lltake a front-row seat to watch you doing it.” He stalked over to me and caged me against the wall. “But does it make you happy,piccolo porcospino?”
I stared at him, too angry to come up with words. I didn’t want to have this conversation anymore, but I was somehow also shaking my head. My control trembled under his sharp gaze. My eyes brimmed, and before I knew it, a tear had spilled out. “This isn’t me.” I wiped angrily at my cheek and looked away.
He gripped my chin and forced it back to his. “Why not?”
“I don’t cry in front of anyone.”
“Am I anyone?”
I stilled. My hand on my cheek burned. My words came out slow. Thoughtful. “You’re the man who married me.”
“What else?”
“The man I fuck.” That I was sure of.
His lips tilted up. “And so well, too. What else?”
“I don’t know.” I sighed in frustration. “What do you want me to tell you?”
