Page 134 of Matteo

“And that’s why I’m not sure about him,” I cry. I still don't understand how she doesn't know. It feels off. “Is it inherited wealth? Is his father rich?”

She shakes her head, pushing her bangs back again. “No. Nothing like that.”

“You don’t know what it is, but it’s nothing like that, which tells me you must know something.”

The relief I was starting to feel starts to slip away and a weight settles back onto my chest. Something about this conversation feels wrong.

“I don’t know what he does now,” she says, quietly, turning away from me.

“What did he do before?”

Silence.

She's choosing not to tell me, despite me explaining that it was her vagueness regarding him that made me think the worst.

Fine. I’m not going to push for answers. If I didn’t get any before, I’m not about to get any useful insight into him now.

“He’s expecting us at the bar,” she says, rising slowly.

I look up at her. She looks beat.

“I don’t think he’s expecting me to come along with you,” I counter.

She looks so fragile that I can't help but wrap my arms around her.

“You go, and catch up. I just want you to be relaxed, and I promise I'll do my best to behave.”

She wraps her arms around me. “I don’t want to argue any more, Matteo. This has already been stressful enough as it is.”

There’s a plea in her voice, and I hear it loud and clear. Elizabeth deserves a holiday. She deserves this break. I remind myself she’s here for a friend’s wedding, and I can’t be an asshole about it. Even if the friend she cherishes is the same asshole who just turned up uninvited, and probably knows exactly what we’d been up to.

I hate that. I hate that almost as much as I hate someone else paying for me when I can afford things myself. This guy is throwing money around like it’s nothing. Like he’s showing off. I don’t know if it’s for Elizabeth’s sake, if he’s trying to impress her, or if that’s just who he is.

Either way, I don’t like it.

“He said he’s waiting for us at the bar,” she says, watching me carefully, like she’s bracing herself for my reaction. “Will you come?”

I hesitate. Then I shake my head. “I think … I think maybe you and he should have a drink together. I think that would be best.”

She studies me for a second, but I see the disappointment on her face. It kills me. “When was the last time you saw him?” I add, unable to stop myself. “Or shouldn’t I ask? Is that top secret information?” It falls out. Fuck. I hate that my jealousy is getting the better of me. I know I’m being a dick. I can hear it even as the words leave my mouth.

“It was three years ago, I told you,” she says, quietly. “But you’re right. Maybe me and Vlad should catch up.”

I nod once. “I’ll just watch Netflix, I guess. And wait for you to come back.”

She turns and heads for the shower. I sink back onto the couch and switch on the huge wall-mounted television. Its screen takes up most of the wall opposite me. A Croatian news channel flashes onto the screen.

When she leaves, a short while later, the room feels too quiet. I flick the TV channels, trying to find something that might distract me from the thoughts circling my head.

“What the fuck was that?” I mutter to myself.

Chapter 32

ELIZABETH

I freshen up just enough to not look so deathly. It feels like our cosy, soft, private bubble has been punctured by Vlad's arrival.

He's always been protective, but when I told him I was bringing someone, I didn't expect him to turn into my bodyguard and turn up on our doorstep within an hour of landing.