Chapter Five
Emilia
I hate him!
I slam the door shut and don’t bother kicking off my house slippers as I stumble forward and collapse on the bed. Face first. The pillow is soft, but it doesn’t do anything to cushion my broken heart.
They say there is a thin line between love and hate, and I might’ve found that line. I’m teetering so hard on that line that I can't even tell which side I'll fall. Antonio keeps pushing me back and forth.
I love him.
How could a man make me feel so good and build me up to be tall only for him to knock down my foundation? The way he jumped away from me earlier, like he was afraid of being seen with me—of anyone knowing that Antonio Rossi might actually have feelings. That this might be something real.
I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.
My hands ball into fists, knuckles turning white as I dig them into the mattress.
Tears come, hot and fast, quickly soaking the pillow.
I try to hold them back, to not be affected by Antonio, but the dam breaks and a sobs rips through me.
It's a raw, ugly sound that makes me want to seek out the man and tear him to shreds like he has my heart.
I hate that I love him.
Why him? Anger flares, burning through my chest as I question why the heck it has to be Antonio Rossi and no one else.
Why is he the only man who can leave my body burning, and heaven knows I’ve tried.
Back in California, I tried seeing a guy who looked a little like Antonio, but the moment he touched my hand, it felt…
wrong. It was almost like I was cheating on Antonio by being with him.
How is it that I can’t move on from this man!
I love him so much, I wish I could hate him.
I don't know how long I lay there. Long enough for the tears to dry and the sadness to harden into something sharper. The pillow is damp beneath my cheek, but I'm done crying. Now I'm just angry.
Angry at him for making me feel this way. Angry at myself for letting him.
The door creaks open but I barely register the sound. The bed dips beside me, a subtle shift in the mattress before a small hand touches my back.
“Emilia?” Gabriella’s soft voice breaks through the thoughts echoing in my head, so I lift my head from the pillow and realize she's not alone when I spot my mother standing by the door, concern written in her eyes.
“Cara,” she says but doesn’t move from the door. “I would kick him for you, but he’s already injured.”
I crack a smile at that.
“I’ll trip him the next time I see him,” Gabriella promises, grabbing my arm and pulling me to sit up. “Antonio is dumb as a rock.”
“He makes up for it with his good looks,” I sniff, brushing my hair from my face.
I imagine I look a mess from the way they’re looking at me.
“You guys should go ahead. I’ll just take a nap and…
" My voice trails off when I spot the cosmetic bag on Gabriella's lap, but she’s not the only one carrying something. My mother is holding some kind of garment bag that has my brows furrowing in confusion. “What’s that?”
“Your dress,” Gabriella answers instead. “You’re going out for dinner!”
“What?” I shake my head, trying to lower myself back on the bed, but she grips my arm and yanks me back up. “I’m not in the mood to go out. Today’s my day off, and I plan to spend it in bed.”
“Not on my watch,” Gabriella says, nudging me off the bed. I nearly fall off. “Go take a shower and then we’ll get you dolled up. You’re going out. You need this.”
“Hey, I just had my heart broken. Let me sulk a little,” I say with a pout, but she’s already pushing me away, leaving me no choice but to listen.
Somehow, I get bullied into taking a shower but decide on a bath to help with the soreness after our lovemaking in the library.
I try not to think about him and stall in the tub until Gabriella threatens to kick down the door.
Thirty minutes later, I find myself seated on the bed in a tight little blue dress as my mother and Gabriella fuss with my hair and face.
I let them do whatever they want, uncertain they would stop if I asked them to.
After they’re done, they both move back and take me in, humming and complimenting each other for a job well done.
“Where are we going?” I ask Gabriella when I notice she’s not dressed up. She’s dressed way too casually in jeans and a T-shirt, and her dark curls fall around her face in a charming but unkempt way. “Can I wait in bed while you get ready?”
"And ruin all the hard work we put in the last forty minutes? Nope,” she says, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” I cry out as she shoves my purse into my hands, and I find myself shuffled out of the guest room.
All my questions and protests are ignored as they whisk me downstairs and into a car waiting at the front door.
I turn just as the door slams in my face, and Gabriella’s cheeky face grins at me from the narrow window beside the door.
I try to open the door, but it’s locked, so I turn to the driver, sighing when I see it’s Luca.
“What the hell are you guys up to?”
“Tsk, you and that suspicious mind of yours,” he says as the car starts pulling away. I turn to the window to watch my mother and Gabriella grinning as they wave me off, obviously having come back outside when I was being ushered into the car by Luca.
For a moment, I think I might’ve gone insane. Just yesterday, everyone was all up in my face telling me I wasn’t allowed to leave the estate because of some crazy shooter out there, and now what? That isn’t a concern anymore?
“Luca, if you don’t tell me where we’re going, I swear to God, I’ll jump out of this car,” I threaten my twin, but he doesn’t seem one bit fazed by it.
“It’s a surprise,” he says.
“Why? It’s not even my birthday,” I cry out, flopping back to the seat and folding my arms over my chest. “All I wanted was to read a book and sleep in on my day off.”
“Can you just relax and enjoy the ride? Enjoy the scenery. New York is a dream in the evening, don’t you think?”
I sigh and drop my forehead against the window, staring out at the scenery, more glass and concrete than there is space.
I don’t engage my brother anymore as my mind shifts back to Antonio, despite my best effort not to.
A part of me wonders if this is Antonio’s way of getting me out of the house, so he has some space from me.
If so, why would he go through all the trouble when he could just send me home to my apartment or have me stay at Luca's?
Did he really have to go to these lengths to get me away?
My heart breaks a little more, and I get lost in my head, not realizing we’ve stopped until Luca taps my knee. “What?” I ask, blinking up at him.
“We’re here,” he says, brows furrowed with concern as he nods toward the window.
I follow his line of sight, and my heart tugs when I see we’ve stopped outside my favorite Italian restaurant.
It's owned by one of Leonardo's cousins, and I remember him bringing me along with his family to this place whenever they went out.
Heck, he brought my family here to celebrate completing medical school, and we had a wonderful time despite the place always being packed and busy.
But tonight, it looks…empty?
Luca steps out of the car and rounds it, coming to my side to open the door for me. He helps me out and escorts me to the door. “Go in,” he says.
I blink at my twin in confusion, looking around to make sure there aren't cameras and this isn't a prank, but Luca was never one for games. Not even when we were kids. Always too serious for his age, which makes this moment all the more confusing. "What's going on?"
He laughs and shakes his head. “Just go in,” he says, opening the door and nudging me inside. I toss him a glare before doing as he says. The bells above the door chime as I step inside and then my breath catches in my throat.
Empty tables, draped in pristine white cloth, stand like sentinels.
A shudder runs down my spine as my eyes dart around, taking in the soft lighting that bathes the room in a warm, inviting glow and the flowers arranged around what is usually a busy restaurant.
My gaze stops on the single table at the center of the room with a stunning arrangement of sunflowers that is a riot of color against the white tablecloth.
And then my eyes finally settle on him.
Antonio is standing by the table with a smile playing on his lips and another bouquet of sunflowers clutched in his hand. My heart skips a beat as I take him in too, dressed in a black suit that fits him perfectly and highlights all those delicious muscles I love to stare at.
“They’re your favorite, right?” he says, breaking the silence between us as he lifts the bouquet. “I asked Silvia and Luca, and they both said that you love sunflowers.”
I fold my arms over my chest, more to physically restrain myself from running to him than for comfort. I don’t want to forgive him for how he acted this afternoon, and I’m afraid to hope. To believe that this man would ever see me the way I’ve seen him all my life.
“You spoke to my mother and brother,” I say, taking a step back when he takes one forward. I try not to feel bad when he flinches at my move. “Why?”
“Emilia.” He takes another step forward, using a cane as he approaches me, but my eyes drop to his leg. When I notice him limping more than he had been earlier, I find myself moving toward him before my brain can register it..
“Stop,” I say, taking his elbow and guiding him to a chair.
The man might have broken my heart, but I can’t stand to see him hurt.
Even now, with my heart bleeding at my feet, I worry for him.
I love him. “Just…just sit down.” I wait for him to sit before rounding the table and dropping down to my own seat, but I don’t meet his eyes.
My eyes move to the flowers, and I resist the urge to reach up and touch one.