that always ended up turning me into a nervous mess in his presence. When he sensed he'd gone too far, he backed off and talked about small, insignificant things such as the weather or the developments in politics that happened in the past five years. Then, he'd slowly weave in those same questions I had no desire to answer, and we'd run in circles for hours on end.
The ride home was a very nerve-wracking experience as well. The plan was to keep Alessandro's departure a secret and leave the hospital in the evening to avoid the mass of reporters who couldn't wait to catch a glimpse of him. To our great misfortune, somebody leaked the information to the press, and tens of cameras and microphones were shoved into our faces, demanding an explanation behind his mysterious accident. Luckily, Alessandro's own bodyguards were there in Broderick's stead. They handled the issue with brutal determination to keep us protected, and we were escorted into the back of an SUV without answering a single question.
As we drove, I gazed outside the window, trying to make my peace with this disturbing situation. Only a few weeks ago, I had mentally prepared myself to be Alessandro Damiani's widow, and now I was accompanying him back to our home without any knowledge of what the future would hold.
“You look very serious,” Alessandro's inquiring voice got my attention, and I slowly turned toward him. “Aren't you glad I’m finally coming home?”
I pushed back the feeling of uneasiness, and forced a smile on my face. “Of course, I am. I'm just not too fond of all the reporters.”
“They seem to have made quite a sensational story of my accident.”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “Everyone thinks it's quite a mystery.”
“And what do you think?” he probed softly, holding my gaze.
Cold sweat emerged on my forehead, and I swallowed hard, mumbling in a meek voice, “I...I think accidents happen.”
He snickered and shook his head. “Cara, I hope you don't mind me saying, but I think you'd make an awful detective.”
Silence reigned the tight space between us, and once again, I was convinced Alessandro was playing a game. When we finally arrived back at the mansion, every member of staff accompanied him to his room where the handsome nurse was already waiting. Alessandro stormed inside and gave me a cold, cutting look before turning toward the girl.
“Who are you?” he commanded, sounding irritated.
Alessandro's harsh demeanor had visibly intimidated the young girl. “Sir, I’m here to take care of you,” she explained in a shy voice. “I have already prepared everything to help you take a bath.”
“I don't need you to help me take a bath,” Alessandro snapped and gestured toward me. “I have a wife to do that.”
“Alessandro— “ I quickly intervened, but to no avail.
“I want everyone out!” he raised his voice. “Right. Fucking. Now.”
The note of threat in Alessandro's voice made every single person act like his obedient sycophant and move toward the door. Bewildered, I turned to follow after them when I heard the sharp words. “Not you, cara!”
I stopped dead in my tracks, helplessly waiting for everyone to leave before I faced him. When we were alone at last, silence filled the room and—unable to sustain his inquiring dark gaze—I gathered the courage to speak and try to talk some sense into him.
“Why did you send the nurse away?” I asked in a small voice. “She is trained to care for patients with these sorts of injuries.”
“I don't care,” he retorted in a voice made of steel.
“Alessandro, please be reasonable—”
“I'm tired, I'm in pain and I have a gap in my memory that’s driving me insane,” he complained. “I don't feel like being reasonable, cara, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed, and gestured toward the bed. “Why don't you go to sleep, then?”
“No. Not yet. First I want to take a shower.” Something softened in his eyes and a faint smile grazed his lips. “I was hoping you could help me with that.”
I stared for a few long moments, wanting to refuse, but knew that I couldn't.
“Of course,” I said quietly.
In a matter of minutes, I stood in the middle of the bathroom, helping Alessandro take off his clothes. All those memories from the past I had tried suppressing for so long returned to haunt me, and I fought to keep my composure intact. Experiencing the chilling sense of déjà vu, I unbuttoned his shirt with trembling fingers, and helped him strip it off. The entire time, I blushed and avoided looking