and had to do it fast. I had to come up with some legitimate reason that would justify my rejection and buy me time.
“You don't remember me,” I blurted out.
“And that bothers you, cara?” He arched his eyebrows, and I nodded my response. For a few moments, both of us remained silent. “This comes as a surprise. Up until now, you’ve been nothing but supportive and understanding of my condition. I thought you said it wasn't my fault and that it would all come back to me.”
“It just feels strange,” I whispered.
“But being intimate might be one of the key things to help me remember,” he pointed out and caressed my face, his tone yet again patient and gentle. “Tesoro, is it really so bad that you’re not even willing to try? I promise I'll be gentle,” he murmured.
“I'm tired,” I choked out.
Alessandro smiled, making it clear he knew it was nonsense. “You do realize this excuse is going to get old really soon, and what will you say to me then, cara?”
I stared at him with my eyes wide open, and expelled a harsh breath. I was done explaining myself. The more I talked, the more I dug myself into a hole so deep I would never be able to climb out of it.
“I'm going to sleep!” I said decisively, and turned my back to him, praying he would let me be.
He sighed loudly and started laughing, commenting something in Italian I could only half-understand, but it amounted to me using every excuse in the book to avoid intimacy. Then, he returned to his side of the bed. Neither one of us fell asleep again that night, but we didn't exchange a single word to each other.
Despite my attempts to justify myself, I could tell Alessandro knew his instincts weren’t fooling him. I didn't love him. I hadn't loved him in a long, long time. And I could have feigned anything, but I couldn't pretend I was in love with my husband. I could try, but he would always know. Love was an emotion that had to be felt—not expressed in words. It was either there or it wasn't. In our case, it just wasn't there and never would be. Love couldn't grow on foundations of pain. Too much was broken that could never be repaired.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The Present
The sound of Alessandro's soft voice woke me up the next morning. I opened my eyes to the incredible sight of my husband who was already showered, shaved and fully dressed in a flawless black suit, conducting business over the phone. It was clear Alessandro had reclaimed his powerful, intimidating aura to the full extent. There was no doubt he was back in control over his underground empire. His eyes met mine. He placed his index finger over his lips, and smiled as he continued the serious discussion about shirts of different colors and sizes. It was clear he talked in codes and those 'shirts' represented something entirely different, but I always stayed out of it. Alessandro's business was none of my business, and the less I knew about it, the better. Suddenly, the person on the line struck a nerve and Alessandro raised his voice, scowling at them. He threatened he wanted the job done, or else...Then, he hung up the phone and—just like that—there was an immediate switch in his mood.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he grinned and appeared completely relaxed. He acted as though last night's conversation between us never happened.
“Buongiorno, cara,” he mused. “I'm sorry I woke you. I tried to be quiet.”
“That's okay,” I replied quietly. “Good morning.”
He drew in a deep breath, and trapped a strand of my hair between his fingers. “I'm afraid I won't be able to join you for breakfast, but I'm taking you out for dinner.”
In the five years of our marriage, Alessandro had never once taken me out for no reason, and I was certain I would be forced to attend another one of those formal dinner parties I hated. “What's the occasion?” I asked in a conversational tone.
He smirked. “I want to celebrate my recovery from the accident.”
“I see,” I said quietly, prompting him with a nod. “Who is attending?”
Alessandro gave me a strange look. “What do you mean, cara?”
“I prefer to know the names of the guests beforehand.” He would have never disclosed that information to me in a million years when he had been in his right mind, but he didn't need to know that.