29. Christina
Christina
29
I thought for sure that the mind-blowing orgasm Nico gave me would be enough to knock me out for the whole night.
When he tucked me in, I felt like I was relaxed enough to sleep for days.
But it’s 3am and I can’t sleep. My whole body feels restless. The weight of the situation I’m in presses down on me, making me feel wrecked.
Nico swore to me that he’d figure this out, but the little voice in my head keeps reminding me that promises get broken all the time. He loves me but… what if that changes down the road?
Promises like the one where I get to go to law school.
I need a plan of my own too.
Moonlight filters through the window, casting a delicate silver glow across the room, illuminating my turmoil and angst.
There has to be another option to this situation. Something we haven’t thought of yet. A way out.
I run my hand over my stomach, suddenly overcome by a nauseous sensation that bubbles viciously.
See, even my body is reacting to this… this… torture.
I stare at the ceiling as the minutes tick by.
Jimmy is… okay. He’s been nice to me and he’s conventionally attractive but there’s no spark. Nothing about him makes me excited or even intrigued.
He’s not the one I want, and he never will be.
I have no idea how to make my mom understand that. She held me while I cried for what felt like an hour. It was the longest time I’ve cried in my mom’s arms since I was a child.
I know she wants to understand, but I don’t think she ever will. “They” and “them” can be taken many ways, and I didn’t exactly go out of my way to make it clearer.
I flop over.
I still don’t understand why this burden must fall on me. Albert says I’m a Venitti now and this is my responsibility.
But why? Why now, and why Jimmy?
“Ugh,” I mutter to myself, punching my pillow. There’s no way I’m going to fall asleep.
I flop over again to check the time. It’s 3:15am.
Fuck, I groan and swing my feet over the edge of the bed and reach for my glass of water.
The tepid liquid does nothing to soothe my soul.
My mind has been trapped in a coil of nightmares this entire week, each one progressively worse.
A forced marriage.
A loveless home.
Children that look like Jimmy.
I shudder. The thought of him trying to touch me, or kiss me makes me gag.
I won’t marry him.
Nico and Enzo aren’t saints, not by any means, but they love me. Nico is the only one who has said it, but I know Enzo feels the same. I can see it in his eyes and on his face. Hell, I can even hear it in his words to me, and especially in his touches.
How could I settle for less? No, there’s no one for me but them.
I’m wide awake now and it’s too early to see if anyone else is awake.
I take out my laptop and log onto my school portal to see what homework assignments I can get ahead on, losing myself in studying for the exams at the end of the week.
Becoming an attorney is another dream I refuse to give up on.
By the time I look up again, the sun is rising. I look out at the backyard through the window next to my desk.
I guess it’s as good a time as any to get ready.
The main event today is meeting with my mom and Jimmy’s mom to talk about the wedding.
Gross.
I take as long as I can, brushing my teeth and filling myself with affirmations.
I will not marry Jimmy. I will find a way out.
When I can’t put it off any longer, I walk to my mom’s room, thankful that Albert isn’t home.
She’s standing next to her vanity, tucking her hair behind her ears as she twists her face to better see her own reflection.
She looks beautiful and elegant.
I lean against the doorjamb, arms crossed tightly against my chest, desperately searching for evidence of the woman I used to know.
What happened to you? What did he promise you, mom? Why are you doing this?
“Please don’t make me go,” I say, watching my mother put on her makeup through the mirror.
She doesn’t startle, she just spritzes her perfume on and turns to me.
My heart sinks when I see her face. She’s in lawyer-mode, not mom-mode.
Shit. Does she feel any guilt? Is there any point in even trying?
“We’re going,” she says. “End of conversation.” She smooths the back of her hair down, doing a final check through to make sure we’re ready.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” She asks, frowning at my outfit. “Where’s your makeup?”
I look down at my casual jeans and t-shirt and shrug.
“You’re the one who is arranging the marriage of a college freshman, mom. I thought I should look the part.”
She scowls at me and tosses me a tube of lipstick. I make no move to catch it and we both watch as it falls to the floor.
“Don’t be a brat, Christina. I can’t handle it today.”
I raise an eyebrow at her. She can’t handle it today?
“You look fine, mom, very chic for selling off your only daughter.”
She rolls her eyes. “We’re meeting Victoria at The Grove,” she tells me, “It’s the best restaurant in town and I will not be embarrassed by you acting out, do you understand me?”
I give her a tight smile and nod. I make no promises.
If she wants a submissive daughter who is happy to go through with this, she’s barking up the wrong tree.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I say instead, following her down the steps and through the house.
***
The server at The Grove leads us to a patio table set a little way away from everyone else. It’s private enough to talk but still visible enough to see and be seen.
I shove my sunglasses on and sit in the corner. It’s the perfect spring day – warm and sunny with a light breeze and birds chirping in the trees.
How wonderful for the weather to cooperate for the worst day of my life.
I feel jittery. My emotions are all over the place. Sad, hopeful, full of rage? I feel it all.
Mom and I sit in silence as we wait for Jimmy’s mother to join us. I have no idea what to expect with her. I know Jimmy comes from a wealthy family and his father is a senator. I think I’ve even seen a few pictures of his family at various events, but I won’t know just how bad his mom is until I meet her in person.
Is she okay with this entire thing? An arranged marriage for her son? What is she getting out of this?
Soon, the server leads two more women our way. Victoria Cosa is easy to spot. She looks like the perfect trophy wife.
Her outfit is pristine, her jewelry is glittering, and her attitude is lethal. The other woman with her looks like a business associate in a smart black pant suit and is carrying a folder.
My mother and I stand to greet them, each taking our turn to offer half-hugs and air kisses.
I struggle to not recoil in disgust, offering a grim smile as she pulls away.
It’s a charade and I hate that we have to play it.
“Sit, sit,” she says, gesturing towards the table.
I don’t like the way her cold eyes sweep over my outfit, lingering on the school logo on my polo shirt.
She hates us. I was not her first choice – and likely not her last. Interesting.
I hate her too.
My mother throws me a look and I do what I’m told. I edge my chair away from the table, eager for some space.
“Meredith, Christina,” Victoria says, her lips curve around my name as if it tastes bad in her mouth. “This is Clara.”
Clara holds out her hand for me to shake. So she must already know my mother.
I look at my mom but she won’t meet my gaze.
“Pleasure,” Clara says.
I choose to not respond, shaking her hand and pretending she doesn’t exist as I glare at my mom. Who is this woman? And why is she here?
“Clara is here to go over the paperwork,” Victoria says.
What paperwork?
“I’m sure you’re comfortable acting as legal counsel on Christina’s behalf,” Victoria says to my mother.
My heart skips a beat and I turn to stare at my mother. As far as I know, a marriage is only legal once a marriage license has been signed after the ceremony.
That leaves….
Shit. Prenuptial Agreement.
Panic flirts at the edge of my psyche and I cross my arms and glare.
They want to do this now?
The paperwork sits ready on the table in front of my mother. My beautiful, traitorous mother already has a pen out.
A part of me already knew she wouldn’t protect me. Not even from this. But seeing her ready to sign my life away hurts.
“Of course,” my mother says. She picks up the documents and goes through them with less care than I’ve seen her review a takeout menu.
She signs her name with a flourish.
Meredith Venitti.
It’s like a knife to the gut. The sharp pain is as hot and intense as if it were a real knife she was using and not just the tip of her pen.
“And Christina,” Clara says, pushing the papers towards me.
I grind my teeth and try to force myself to stay calm. I’m grateful for my sunglasses hiding the threat of tears welling in my eyes.
“Christina, is there a problem?” Victoria asks, pursing her lips.
“Can I,” I start to say, having to stop to swallow the hard lump building in my throat.
“Victoria. Clara. May I please take some time to read over this?” I hold the stack of paper up and flip through it.
“Your attorney, who is your mother, already signed it.” Victoria looks at me like I’m a bug under her shoe. “She clearly wants what’s best for you, darling.”
Darling has never sounded like such an insult.
I flip through the pages some more and I’m shocked by how long this is. Page upon page of contract language.
Is this standard? I don’t know. But I’m not signing it until I know exactly what they want from me.
“I need time,” I say, a little bit stronger. I roll my shoulders back, keeping my chin up and my eyes clear. Whatever this is won’t just affect me, it’ll affect Nico and Enzo as well. I have to be strong, for us. “This is a legal document that I will be bound to for the entirety of my life, isn’t it? The responsible thing would be to read it, thoroughly.”
“It’s just a standard document,” Victoria says, her tongue clicking in disapproval.
“Contract,” I say, cutting in to correct her. That point needs to be made clear. It is a contract after all, nothing more. I don’t want anyone to delude themselves into thinking that I’m doing any of this willingly.
“Yes, contract.” Clara, their lawyer, watches me with what looks like disdain. “This is a business contract. As this is an arranged marriage, there are definitely legal connotations.”
My mother rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers at me. “We have things to do, sweetheart. Just sign it and I’ll go through it with you later.”
I feel sick. Dear god, my own mother. She’s here as my attorney. Ready to sell me and maybe even this family.
“Is that what you would tell your client to do, Mom?” I ask, frostily.
“Forgive me,” Victoria interrupts, a cold smile on her face. “I just assumed you came here, understanding how this all works. Had I known we were going to spend valuable time explaining basic concepts to you, I would have booked out the reservation for longer…”
Anger rises in my chest. Where does she get off talking to me like that?
I throw the papers on the table next to me and cross my arms, trying to mimic the same confident posture that I see Nico and Enzo have all the time. When they do it, others back down.
“I’ll review it and get back to you,” I say, sweetly.
“Fine,” Victoria snaps. “You have until the first of the month.”
“No,” I smile again, “As this is a prenuptial agreement, I think I’ll sign on the morning of the wedding and not a day before.”
My mother chokes on her water but I ignore her. I’m locked in a battle of wills with Victoria, one I can’t afford to lose.
“Fine.”
I smile and take a little sip of my orange juice. Winning, even if it’s something little, feels good.
“You’ll need to address the concerns listed on page five before the end of next week.”
I flip to page five, reading the words there. Sexual health examination? My head snaps up as I take in their meaning.
“I just don’t want my only son to marry a common whore,” Victoria says, sneering. Gone is the fa?ade of attempted civility. She won’t even try now.
My hands clench into fists but I school my face.
“Of course,” I say before my mother can respond. “I’ll see if I have time.”
If loving the men I’m with makes me a whore, then I am one. Gladly so. Hell, I’d drop to my knees this moment if Nico or Enzo asked. I straighten the napkin on my lap.
That’s the thing about good men, they have the ability to create a space safe enough to become whatever type of person you want. To feel things, explore – and feel free.
I highly doubt her pathetic, coddled son has such power.
“And, as I’m sure you’ll understand, I have the same concerns about Jimmy,” I pause, letting my smile break across my face. “I’m sure you’ll provide an equal sexual health examination to quell any concerns. There have been… rumors… circulating the University. I would hate to put myself at risk.” I take a drink of my water. “If that’s not in this agreement, we will certainly need to add it.”
Victoria clenches her talons around her water glass and glares at me. Her eyes are ice cold.
“Of course.” She gives me a tight smile.
It fills my chest with a warm surge of pride to know that I’m getting to her like this.
Fuck them.
“Now that that’s settled, let’s discuss colors, shall we?” I clap my hands in false excitement.
My mother kicks me under the table but I ignore her.
Lunch is served without further incident. During the discussions, I manage to convince the women at the table that my deepest desire is to have a black wedding dress. It takes an incredible amount of self-control not to laugh when I see horrified looks that spread across both Victoria’s and my mother’s faces.
“And a bouquet of black roses to match it,” I add. “Naturally.”
Beside me, my mother’s shoulders stiffen as if bracing herself for what I’ll say next.
Across from us, the elder Mrs. Cosa visibly pushes herself away from the table, careful to turn her body away from mine, as if my taste might be contagious.
“Now, for the honeymoon – my expectations are that we go somewhere luxurious. It is a vacation after all. But nothing cold, tropical, or too nature-oriented. I think a tour of the National Library in D.C. could be a good starting place. Maybe a world tour of libraries?”
“Christina,” The warning in my mother’s voice just makes me keep going.
“Now, I’m sure you understand that I have to protect myself. Therefore, I won’t have sex with him until I’m certain he’s monogamous,” I say, swallowing my last forkful of food. “So we’ll have to wait a few years for children.”
My mother’s face reddens.
Serves her right. This is what they get for trying to force a nineteen-year-old girl into marriage. They should all be ashamed of themselves.
“Well, if that’s all,” Victoria says, tossing her napkin down onto the table as she stands to leave. “Then it’s time we go pick out the ring.”
We walk the three stores down to a boutique jewelry store. Victoria tells us that it’s a family business the Cosas have apparently used for generations.
Once we’re inside, I look at the hundreds of diamond rings. The salesman brings out tray after tray, showing me every style.
But none of them appeal to me.
Finally, after Victoria whispers something to her, my mother selects a classic princess cut diamond solitaire.
“Put it on, Christina,” she orders.
I hate the way the cold metal slides across my finger. It feels heavy. Wrong. Final.
Once we leave the store with the sparkler on my finger, my confidence plummets and a chill overtakes me.
“You’ll soon learn how a Cosa woman behaves, missy. I see through all your games,” Victoria hisses as she snaps a picture of the ring on my finger. “Just you wait until you’re part of my family. We won’t tolerate that bullshit at all.”
My stomach drops.
Although I might have made a small win refusing to sign the papers today, I can’t ignore the feeling that I’ve lost some of that ground I gained by being forced to wear this ring.
“Next week, we’ll meet again for dresses.” Victoria announces. I look down at my ring finger and grimace. Yay.