on Marco’s property. My House couldn’t get to her. And they’d approved our marriage, hadn’t they?
My mind spun. Yeah, they had. I’d met with my father. I’d talked to him abo—
“Do you feel like eating?” Felicity asked, her voice interrupting my fragmented thoughts. “Maybe some gelatin? Or juice? We could start with juice.”
Was I hungry? I wasn’t sure. One thing I did know was that my bladder was about to explode. “I... I need a bathroom first.”
“I know you’re gonna hate this.” Marco helped me to my feet. “But you’re not steady on these legs yet, so you’re having company in the bathroom whether you like it or not.”
I swayed and looked to my left where he had a death grip on my arm, making sure I didn’t go down. Which I was suddenly thankful for because my legs felt like that gelatin Felicity wanted to feed me. “Pervert. You just...want to look at... my junk.”
Marco snorted. “I don’t need to look. I already know it’s way smaller than mine.” He held up his pinky finger—blurry but there. “Piccolissimo.”
I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. And all that did was send a wave of fresh pain across my back again. “Vaffanculo,” I muttered to Marco, then with a cough, I said, “Where’s Natalie?”
“I’m right here.”
Her fingers closed over my other arm, helping me as I moved across the room. And damn, but her hands felt good on any part of me. Just knowing she was close felt good.
“You can tell me to fuck off after I help you do your business,” Marco said on my other side. “This isn’t fun for either one of us, you know. Natalie, get the bathroom door, would you?”
I didn’t want her to let go of me, even for a second, but I didn’t want to look like a total pansy, either. And, Mother of God, where the fuck was this bathroom? Siberia? It was taking us a long freaking time to get there. I was seriously sweating now.
As Marco helped me into the bathroom, I groaned even though I tried like hell not to. At our backs, Natalie said, “Are you sure you don’t need me?”
I did need her. Always. Everywhere. And I’d much rather have her in here with me than Marco. But before I could make the words form in my mouth, Marco said, “I got this. He’s fine.”
The door snapped closed, then Marco reached for me again. “Toilet’s over here.”
Now I felt like an invalid. I shook off his hand when he positioned me in front of the bowl. “I can do this part... alone.”
“Are you sure? You’re still wobbly on those legs.”
I rested a hand against the wall to show him I was stable, then flashed him the finger. “Back off already, pervert.”
Marco chuckled but did as I said. When I was done, I flushed the toilet and hobbled toward the sink, thankful the bathroom wasn’t too big and that I could use the chair-rail molding as a guide. But shit, I didn’t remember this room in Marco’s house at all. The walls were an ugly lime green and the sink and moldings and everything else were white and too damn dainty for his tastes.
I braced my hips against the counter and flipped on the water. As I washed my hands under the warm stream, I glanced up and did a double take at the fuzzy reflection staring back at me.
Holy hell. I looked like I’d been through a bender. My eyes were bloodshot, my cheeks pale and sunken in, and my hair was standing out all over my head. Actually, I looked like I’d been through a bender in hell. My gaze dropped to my chest—my bare chest—then slid lower to the gray sweatpants I knew were not mine hanging off my hips.
“Here.” Marco handed me a towel.
I flipped off the water, trying to figure out what had happened to me, and reached for the towel. Had I gotten shit-faced drunk and blacked out? I hadn’t done that since I was a teenager. I ran my tongue over my teeth and grimaced. It was possible. My mouth tasted like shit.
As if he’d read my mind, Marco handed me a new toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. “Your breath smells like ass. Brush your teeth before you try to kiss your pretty wife.”
My wife...
Warmth spread through my chest, distracting me from my spinning thoughts. I took the brush and paste with a muttered “Thanks,” and pictured Natalie sitting in the other