Chapter 56 Giovanna
Antonio is in the shower, steam curling out over the glass door, when his phone lights up on the bathroom counter beside me.
I’m at the mirror, halfway through my eyeliner, when the text comes in.
A text with a picture of what appears to be a waxed vagina in a lacy thong.
Interesting.
I’ve made an art of catching men in their lies.
I used to track my father’s affairs like a detective, hunting down the women he thought he was slick enough to hide from my mother.
I then sharpened my skills helping Lexi bust her string of cheating boyfriends; it was like she only dated cheaters.
This is the first time I’ve ever employed those skills on my own behalf.
Not once did Tommy ever give me reason to believe he was fucking anyone else.
Even when he was gone all night, location off, I never worried.
The problem was never that he was paying attention to someone else.
The problem was only that he didn’t pay enough attention to me.
There are no photos of other women on his phone, no emails, no other text threads that are incriminating, so I tap into his cloud.
It takes seconds, and the gallery opens like a dam breaking.
Jesus Christ, so many women.
The pictures go back not just months but years.
Before last New Year’s Eve, when I fucked Antonio and Tommy.
All during the year before that, when Antonio camped out in my apartment like he belonged here, allegedly love struck and waiting for me to notice.
For the past two years and then some, he was collecting short blonde trophies, most with porcelain skin and blue eyes.
I glance up in the mirror at my black hair, olive skin, and hazel eyes that look brown at the moment—the exact opposite of them.
The most recent pictures, though, center around just one woman, a cute blonde with a big smile.
There is no shortage of sexy pictures of her, of them, but there are also a lot of innocuous pictures as well.
A sushi dinner. Her tanning her bronze skin by a pool.
Her leaning against a window at sunset.
Her big blue eyes looking up at him from his lap.
A lot of these look like selfies she sent him, though there are a few selfies she took of the two of them together.
It looks like they travel a lot: the beach, Europe, all over New York.
And strangely… he doesn’t look happy in any of it.
Not sad either. Just there, like a cardboard cutout propped in the background.
Where was I when all this was happening?
Clearly, not paying attention.
The water turns off, but I just keep scrolling without looking up.
Antonio steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his tapered waist, using another towel to dry his hair.
When he sees me leaning against the counter scrolling through his phone, he freezes for a second then comes to stand beside me, looking over my shoulder as I scroll.
I pause on one of her sucking his dick, and lift my gaze to meet his.
He doesn’t say anything, just exhales and takes the phone from me.
Then he leans against the counter next to me, watching me watch him.
A minute passes in silence.
Finally, he says, “Say something, Giovanna.”
I blink.
The truth is, this doesn’t even crack the surface compared to Tommy.
When Tommy missed my twenty-first birthday dinner, I’d sobbed all night.
When he first stopped texting me back right away, I tore myself apart wondering why.
This? This is like finding out the store is out of ice cream on a hot day.
Annoying, but oh, well.
I shrug. “What do you want me to say? You have a girlfriend.” My laugh is flat.
“Actually, two girlfriends. Or are there more of us out there?”
His stare doesn’t waver.
“No,” he says finally. “I have one girlfriend. And I have a job.”
Message received.
I’m the job. The thing standing between him and the life he actually wants.
And strangely, I don’t care. I used to feel guilty before, even a little sorry for him.
Not anymore. Tommy’s safety is the only thing that matters.
I cap my eyeliner and go back to the mirror.
“Great, then get ready. Your ‘job’ needs to be on time to this fucking thing.”
**
As we arrive at the New Year’s Eve party, Antonio keeps a fake smile on his face as he says under his breath, “If you fuck Tommy this year, leave me out of it.”
Through my own fake smile, I say, “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” before we split and head in opposite directions.
I have no intention of fucking Tommy this year.
Last year was a mistake. It put him at risk.
Thank God he was nowhere to be found by the time everyone came running to see what the noise was about.
They all assumed it was Antonio making a racket fucking me.
It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gotten loudly fucked at one of these things, so it wasn’t a hard story to sell.
Grad school is almost over for me, and I’m here to network.
I do not want to be stuck at Luminous I love it too much. I missed you, bitch.”
She grabs my face with both hands like she might lick me just to be dramatic, then yanks me toward the bar.
“Tell me everything. Are you still hung up on Tommy?”
The name is a gut-punch, but I hide it behind a big smile.
“No. Completely done. I’m with Antonio now.
”
Her face twists. “Ugh. Antonio? Really? That guy’s like a boiled potato in a tux.
”
I snort. “He’s… fine.”
“Fine,” she mocks, rolling her eyes.
“You don’t ‘fine’ your way into great sex, babe.
You don’t ‘fine’ your way into fireworks.
‘Fine’ is what you say when the waiter gives you flat water instead of sparkling.
”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re insane.
”
She beams like it’s a compliment. “I know, and you love me. Now, where’s Antonio, anyway?
”
“Somewhere being miserable.”
“Perfect.” She leans in conspiratorially.
“Because your boy Tommy is here.”
My stomach flips.
I busy myself with a sip of champagne. “Don’t care.
”
“Don’t care, my ass. Want me to drag you over there?
He’s with some blonde chick, but I can totally take her—and you can take him.
”
I roll my eyes. “What is it with blondes? Antonio’s girlfriend is blonde, too.
Must be something in the water.”
I hear the words coming out of my mouth before I can stop them.
It’s just so easy to talk to Lexi, and I’ve had no one to confide in other than my mother.
Lexi barks out a laugh. “Wait. Antonio has a girlfriend, and you’re his…
what? Long-suffering wife? Or are you the side piece?
Jesus Christ, Giovanna.”
“Less work for me. I’m fine with it.
” Fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. This is fine.
The more I say those words in my head, the less they make sense.
“Girl, you’ve got this backwards. I’ve got three men in Dubai keeping me in heels and champagne.
Don’t be a tourist in your own life, Gigi.
”
Don’t be a tourist in your own life. Don’t be a ghost in your own life.
Good fucking advice, despite the sources.
“So you’re saying I should be more like you?
”
She snorts and hip checks me as she drags me out onto the dance floor.
“Everyone should be more like me, bitch.”
And all of the sudden, I remember what it feels like to breathe.