one. She needed it, he’d told her, but she wasn’t sure why she needed one exactly. She’d taken the present and explored the Internet and what was out there in the world through it.
She’d started a private blog once she found out those kinds of things existed and had been writing in it, like a diary. She was good at typing, which had made her think about the piano lessons again. Would it be the same? Playing the piano, would that take the same finesse? As the music played she thought about it more and almost laughed because she’d soon find out.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, nonchalantly.
Matteo wasn’t a very talkative man sometimes, but since they’d come to New York he’d opened up to her more. She knew there were still secrets buried inside of him, but he’d allowed her into his world. Mostly because he needed to know how she was. He wasn’t concerned about his own emotions, or what he needed, but with her and her needs.
“I’m fine. A little nervous. We’re going to your aunt’s for Christmas dinner tomorrow. I’m not sure what to wear, or how to act, I’m really worried I’ll embarrass you.”
“Ah, my aunt. She’s flying back in from Italy tonight. She’s been told about us now. She’s… calm.” Matteo chose his words carefully, but she felt the way his fingers tensed on her scalp before they relaxed again. He wasn’t totally pleased about his aunt coming home or being told about them then.
He never talked much about her, but from the things he said, Marie knew he didn’t like the woman very much. That didn’t make her own situation any easier to deal with. She was the product of her husband’s affair. Trying to keep it straight in her own mind could get confusing at times.
How would Celeste treat her, she wondered. Her birth wasn’t something that Marie could help, but she knew that she wouldn’t be a happy reminder to Celeste, a memento of her husband’s infidelity. Marie wouldn’t be surprised to be greeted with hatred, especially since Marie had taken it all a step further and married Celeste’s nephew. The woman had to be intelligent, which meant she would know that their marriage was a ploy to negate the debt owed by Ruby.
“Do you think she’ll hate me?” Marie asked quietly, almost afraid to actually voice it. The question was a stupid one, of course Celeste would hate her.
“I don’t know. Celeste is… her own woman. She doesn’t reveal much to anyone.” Matteo’s fingers moved down to the back of Marie’s head to knead at the spot where her spine met her skull.
“She took over the family business after my father died,” Marie pointed out, but let him interrupt.
“She did. There wasn’t anyone else to take his place. Well, there would soon be you…” his words slowed, then stopped.
It had occurred to him finally, then. She didn’t smile or tense up. She forced herself to stay relaxed and to enjoy the moment with her husband.
“I’m not ready for leading anything like that. You’re the one that’s been trained to take over for the woman that is, well, my stepmother. Odd to think that, isn’t it?” The term was something she’d considered over the last few weeks, even if it didn’t seem right.
“I don’t know what she’d be called, technically. I suppose stepmother would be right.” She could feel his tension in the strong way his fingers dug into her muscles, but she didn’t complain. “She’s now your aunt by marriage, as well.”
He gave a soft chuckle before gave a deep sigh.
“We’re in a strange situation,” she said, just to have something to say. “It’s not going to be easy. None of it.”
“No, it won’t be. It never is, though, not when she’s involved.”
“Can you help me pick out hairstyles and clothes?” She sat up and turned to look at him, her knees pulled up to her chest. “I want to look… right.”
“Let’s see what you have in the closet, and then we can see if we need to go shopping.” He smiled to reassure her and moved to the edge of the couch. “As for your hair, that kind of bun thing you had it in a few weeks ago will do.”
“The French twist? Okay, that’s simple enough to do.” She’d learned it from a video online, one she’d found on her phone, and had recreated it.
They went into their bedroom and she opened her closet. Dresses, shirts, pants, skirts,