Chapter-21🌜Why are you so quiet?
Zane's POV
I see how William leaves after just seeing me sit in front of him. As if just the idea of that is so repulsive and absurd.
Although I kinda knew he would leave as soon as I sat there. And I wanted him to get some rest. He must be tired...
He looked tired.
And the way he was stretching his back a little, he definitely needed it.
I mean it does kinda suck. Seeing him leave—
I thought last night was a sign that things can be better. That he wouldn't be as intolerable of me as he was earlier.
I guess I was wrong.
He was drunk last night. Even saying stuff that no sane person in their right mind would say. Or maybe he is actually that goofy and awkward...
But damn that I liked it. I liked it when he was actually talking to me. Last night me sitting in front of him wasn't a problem, but today it is.
He refused my overcoat, then he even refused to go into the bedroom.
Both of which were offered by me completely out of care and no ulterior motive.
And I just can't understand what I ever did to him-that he hates me so much...
What part of it wasn't a choice to either of us is not clear to him?
I even tried to joke a little, to tease him a little. Because I thought, maybe he just needs something to loosen up. To feel comfortable around and not on edge-like he usually is.
And he even reciprocated the humour. Asked me stuff both last night and today-and still?
And now I am done. Enough is enough. No matter how patient I am, I can't let another person treat me like dog shit for no apparent reason.
But again, when I am thinking that I should be pissed, the moment of our eye contact in the car-flashed inside my mind.
Whatever I say or whatever he says now...
I can't even lie that it wasn't genuine. It was a tangible moment. Words were literally spoken without any verbal language.
There wasn't any abhorrence for me. There was a velvet quality to his mahogany eyes, like shadows stretching across a study floor.
As if we both could read each other. As if our eyes can communicate better than our tongues can.
And just the thoughts like these-
Of moments like these... stop me.
And they don't even need to, because somewhere in my mind I already know I can't be angry with him-I just can't.
He has already pulled the strings of me which make me soft.
Though there's one thing that it taught me-maybe that was the real William.
So now I won't try. Because when I am trying...
He just runs away.
Maybe he just needs space.
So I will give him that. Maybe that will make him less hostile.
Or if it's just hatred, it wouldn't go away from just space. Because it will be stuck deep inside him.
And I can't change it.
Either way, giving him space is the only option left. I won't try to initiate conversation. Try to joke around.
Because that is just making him see me as the villain, more and more.
Now let's try this too.
With that decision, I open my laptop and start working on the documents that need my reconsideration.
??
We landed at 4:25 A.M. in Sicily. I am not hungry because I ate some food during the flight.
As for William, I didn't go inside the bedroom, although I did ask an air hostess to go and gently knock at his door to offer him some food.
I ensured there were multiple options for cuisines, because just in case he wants something.
But he didn't reply to the knock.
Maybe he thought it was me, and was purposefully ignoring me. Or he was actually asleep and didn't register the knock.
I don't know. But my document work is done now. So now as we step down from the stairs. I know I would have less workload.
Less stress about work will allow me to focus more on the stress from the whole wedding and stuff, which would be exactly ten hours from now.
I see from the corner of my eyes as William stretches his limbs and yawns. His face is red and there are visible sleep creases on his face.
I just wonder how someone can look that stunning even when they are clearly...hmm... well-rested.
But at least that tells me he got nice sleep-unlike me. I suppress a yawn.
His yawning is just so contagious, man.
Though at least I ate, which he didn't. So he must be hungry and I almost turn in his direction. Almost. But then I remember I should give him space.
So I don't look at him and just ask in a neutral tone, "Do you want to eat something at the lounge?"
Before he can even answer, his stomach growls loudly. Which gives me enough of an answer.
"Yup. Definitely hungry."
And I can't resist the smile that it brings up to my face-thank god I am not looking at him.
I also know if I turn back, his face will be redder than a cherry. He is too stubborn to say it out loud but his stomach can't lie. I am sure if it hasn't made his presence apparent, my husband-to-be must have lied.
"Yeah." He says in a monosyllabic tone.
See, still stubborn.
I move forward where our customs and interrogation will be handled. Although it won't be long.
Just brief questions and then we can just get William something to eat. Then we can leave for our wedding resort.
??
After we are done with the formalities, I look at William and tell him, "We can dine in the lounge and can order from Inflight Chef Delight."
And then ask, "Or do you want to eat in a restaurant specifically?"
William just blinks at me and then finally says, "lounge one will work."
"Sure." I start walking towards the lounge in our private terminal. The VIP suite at the FBO swallows the chaos of the interrogation room whole. Here, the air doesn't smell of sweat and cheap floor cleaner, it smells of aged sandalwood and the crisp, salty breeze of the Ionian Sea.
I order for us, because again-William would struggle with ordering, and I am too tired to have another argument of confrontation.
Although I do make sure, to order dishes only like the ones he ate two nights before. And look out for his allergies.
The steward from Inflight Chef Delight moves with a practiced, silent efficiency, placing our Crudo of Gambero Rosso. A classic Sicilian delicacy.
And we both eat in silence just sounds of our cutlery hitting the bone china-nothing else.
But I can tell from the way he is twisting his fork back and forth-William is spiraling and he wants to say something.
Although I don't mention it-let him open up on his own.
"Hmm... when is the wedding?" he asks me. Although I can tell this wasn't the thing which was making him that nervous.
"It will start at 3:00 P.M." I don't explain more than that. And just go back to eating my food.
"Where are we staying?" He asks me. So is he actually interested in knowing all of this?
"San Domenico Palace." I give a polite but point-to-point answer.
"Oh I have heard of it... " He says. "Isn't this the one which hosted G7?"
"It is." I put the bite in my mouth.
"Wait, are we actually staying there? Well damn..." He says and makes a dramatic 'ooh' face. "Have all the guests arrived?"
"Most of them." I tell him.
Then he goes quiet and I feel the gears in his brain working more than their usual capacity. "Hmm... What about changing the surname? What will we do about that?" He says as if he got a bright idea to have a conversation on.
"Who will change? Because I am not changing my surname!" He says with visible anger.
"We don't have to. It's business." I remind him.
"We don't? Not even hyphenate?" He inquires with shock.
"No." That wasn't mentioned to me and my dad won't let his heir to transition to some other surname. And leave his Belladonna legacy.
And he won't give a rat's ass about what surname Will has. It's for money, not actual marriage.
Then the conversation dies, and we both go back to eating wordlessly. Though, I can tell William still wants to ask something.
But I don't point it out. If he has something to say, he can. Otherwise, I am good.
"Why are you so quiet... so dry?" He asks me with uncertainty.
Oh? So now he wants to know why am I quiet?
I just keep chewing the food in my mouth and then take my time to swallow.
When I am done, I look back at him. "You didn't like it when I bothered you." I wipe my face with a napkin.
"So now I won't." I tell him looking straight in his eyes.