Monster A Dark Arranged Marriage Romance - Vanessa Waltz Page 0,51
be sweet when he wanted to be.
“Thank you.” I sipped, my toes curling with pleasure. “Oh, that’s amazing.”
“My mother would disown me if I couldn’t make decent coffee.” His pocket rang as he sat beside me on the living room couch. He pulled out his phone. His smile flattened to a grim line as he pocketed his cell. “Listen, I had a great time but I have to go.”
“Did I say something?”
Boy, I was hurt.
“No, hon.” His cup clinked against the dish as he set it down, and then he scooped my face in his hands. “There’s nothing to get upset over. It’s just work. You believe me, don’t you?”
I guess.
His forehead touched mine. He kissed my temple, cheek, and mouth, so soft he was barely there.
I followed him to the door like a cloud, dancing in the air. I held onto that feeling like a shining soap bubble rising toward a nail-covered ceiling.
Seventeen
Evie
I’m grateful that my husband hates family gatherings.
I stood in a suburban backyard packed with members of Tony’s family. They seemed like warm, well-meaning people, fooled by Tony’s put-together charade of a freshly pressed shirt, teased waves, and sardonic smile.
A beautiful, statuesque woman in a flowing orange and pink skirt picked her way across the lawn, her ebony hair piled on her head.
My jaw dropped.
Carmela.
“Anthony, want something to drink?” her cheerful voice chimed as she pulled him into a tight hug. “Seltzer?”
“No thanks.”
She peered at me, frowning. “Evie, would you like anything?”
“I’m good, thank you.”
I couldn’t help but notice that her lips pursed. She did not like me. Tony forced a grin, but it dissolved as soon as Carmela’s back turned.
“You know her, don’t you?”
I nodded, flushing.
It raised goosebumps on my neck to see Carmela. Everybody knew about Crash’s old lady, the Italian princess stolen from her mafioso fiancé. She showed up on the back of his bike. At the time, I’d thought it incredibly romantic. Star-crossed lovers, and all that.
My stomach twisted.
“I-I saw her sometimes. She was Crash’s old lady.” I grew hot under Tony’s accusing glare. “I mean, he called her that, but who knows.”
“He took her against her fucking will.”
“I know. I mean, I heard he did terrible things but I never saw anything. I’m glad she’s all right.”
Hollowness gaped from his unspeaking eyes.
Ice rolled down my spine. I wished I hadn’t brought it up. Clearly, it was a sore subject for him. The ache in my chest pulsed angrily. A week had passed without my husband whispering sweet nothings in my ear.
The distance bugged me.
I was lonely. I was constantly frustrated. Jennesy came over to my house twice, but nothing made up for the fact that my husband avoided me. Was the date an act to placate the wife? Was he never going to hold me like he did that night?
“Tony, why are we here?”
“Sunday dinner.”
I glanced at my watch. “But it’s three-thirty.”
“It’s an all-day thing.” He sighed heavily. “A waste of my damned time.”
“Well, thanks.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, hon.” He lightly grasped my hand, and the gesture jolted my heart. “How have you been?”
I met his gaze and shrugged.
“I know I haven’t been around. I’ve been busy. I would’ve skipped this but Vinn is on my ass, and my mom’s coming over.” He gave me a meaningful look. “She has a talent for reducing grown women to tears.”
“Ah. So that’s where he gets it.”
His chest expanded under his shirt. “How do you brush off everything I do?”
“You need a crash course in what marriage in the twentieth century is like, but I’m not losing sleep over you.”
Because I’m back in denial.
He’d filled my life with stuff, and I thought it’d make me happy, but at the end of the day, I just wanted my husband to love me.
Tony peeked into the house. “My mother’s here.”
“I’m surprised a guy like you can’t blow off your mom.”
“Italian moms are not easily blown off.” Tony dragged me out of sight of the windows, his tone extremely tense. “She’s waited her whole life for me to marry, and now that I have? She expects kids. She’ll grill you.”
“So? She seemed fine at the wedding.”
“She was faking it, darling. We’ll leave as soon as we can.”
“First, do something for me.” I could practically hear his mind whirring as I linked my arm with his. “Name five things you’re grateful for.”
“Why?”
“Just give it a try.”
Tony considered me, a storm brewing in his expression. “I’m grateful I’m free, that I don’t have to hurt people anymore, and