20. Liana
TWENTY
LIANA
M y mind had been replaying the kiss for hours, my lips tingling even now. Giovanni’s mouth had been warm and gentle, unlike the experiences I’d had in the past.
Romeo had been doing most of the talking since the priest left, and I was starting to get a serious headache.
The three of us were seated around the lounge table, sharing a celebratory dinner. It was intimate, and so different from my first wedding. Not that I wanted a repeat of that disaster.
White daffodils filled the space, and the sunset cast orange, red, and yellow hues over origami of all shapes and sizes that were scattered around the table. I was torn on how to feel about it, but I was mostly shocked that Giovanni managed to… surprise me. Maybe even impress me.
Nobody had ever gone to such lengths for me. My eyes stung with tears I knew wouldn’t come. They burned, hot and relentless, as if my body were trying to force something out, but I couldn’t release it—couldn’t find the way. My chin quivered, a trembling that I couldn’t control, my breath hitching in shallow, frantic gasps. Everything felt too close, too tight. I couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t breathe.
Without thinking, I shot to my feet. The chair tipped backward with a violent thud that sounded far too loud, as if the world itself were falling apart in that instant. My heart pounded in my chest, the rapid thump reverberating in my ears, drowning out everything else.
“I’m going to bed.” Giovanni’s mouth twitched and I quickly added, “Alone.”
He didn’t seem disheartened. Instead, he took my hand in his and raised it to his lips very slowly, his eyes never leaving my face, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the pulse-point on my wrist. My limbs felt shaky, like they weren’t mine.
“Have a good night… wife.”
I looked from him to his brother, then turned on my heel and ran, needing to hide from my own emotional turmoil that threatened to rear its ugly head. This man was an illusion. Hope was an illusion. Panic clawed its way up my throat, a bitter taste filling my mouth. I reached for something, anything, but my hands were unsteady, useless.
I couldn’t trust him. I couldn’t trust anyone.
Yes, maybe this was stupid. Unwarranted. Yet I couldn’t stop it any more than a human could stop an avalanche from happening. I couldn’t move far enough or fast enough to escape whatever this was, whatever was eating me alive from the inside out. Everything I’d been holding inside me for days, weeks, months, years, came crashing down, and I stumbled with the force of it.
My hand reached out, grabbing the rail.
A bolt of lightning flashed, tearing through the dark skies. Just like this pain inside me.
I needed to retreat into my own mind, where only darkness and peace resided. For the first time in years, tears stained my face. My breaths got short and heavy, my chest even heavier. I was falling deeper into the darkness, desperate to stop feeling.
I didn’t want to hurt. I didn’t want to be consumed.
Gripping the cold metal of the rail, I tried to seek comfort in the moon reflecting off the ocean’s dark surface. Instead, I saw the distorted image of my nightmares, my sins and hopes staring back at me, mocking me.
I hurt. I hurt so fucking much, but I didn’t know how to heal. I didn’t know how to move on. I didn’t know how to fix the mistakes I’d made. I didn’t know anything.
I lifted my face to the sky, inhaled a deep breath, and then I screamed. All my pain and fury poured out of my soul.
I screamed and screamed and screamed.
Until my throat was raw.
Until my ears rang.
Until a set of large, warm hands pulled me into a hard chest, murmuring words I couldn’t understand.
Then suddenly, my feet left the ground, and I was scooped up into warm arms, nestled close to a steady heartbeat.
Giovanni carried me back toward the stateroom, my mind still reeling from the heightened emotions. What was happening to me? Was I having a panic attack?
This wasn’t who I was.
“Shh. You can let it go.” I squeezed my eyes shut, embarrassed at being seen like this. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
His whispered words tempted me to let go. I wanted to be better. And most of all, I wanted to be normal.
He kept walking until we were in his bedroom, not stopping until we were in the bathroom. I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror.
Me, entirely disheveled and frail-looking, white wedding dress crumpled like my state of mind.
Him, on the other hand, looked completely sane, suited up and put-together.
He turned on the water, adjusting the temperature, then reached over to the bath products that he’d ordered for me before pouring one of the wildflower-scented ones.
“Clothes off or on?” he asked, his gaze seeking out mine in the mirror.
My answer was a raw whisper. “On.”
Without further ado, Giovanni gently sat me in the bathtub, warm water soaking through the new dress. He straightened up, took his shoes and socks off, then shocked me by sliding into the tub behind me.
We must have looked ridiculous, both of us clothed, soaked, and submerged in the water. Silence stretched, the steady running water coming out of the faucet the only sound vibrating against the tiles.
“What happened?”
His quiet question vibrated against my back while I stared at the pristine tile design in front of me. Could I find the courage to open the door that had been closed for so long, it’d all but been sealed shut? Opening it meant being vulnerable and trusting, which I wasn’t sure I could do.
“Did marrying me set something off?” His words were spoken low but clear, and empathy I thought I’d long ago lost flared up. Despite the kidnapping and forced nuptials, I didn’t want him to blame himself.
“Seeing daffodils and origami… the trouble you would’ve gone through to obtain them… it triggered something,” I whispered haltingly.
“You didn’t like it?”
I considered the best way to answer him without giving away too much. I wasn’t ready to face my fears.
“I did,” I admitted.
Another stretch of silence followed.
He started combing his fingers through my hair, wetting it, then reached for the shampoo. “Is it okay if I wash your hair?”
It seemed silly to deny him, considering we were both in the tub, but at the same time, the intimacy of the action… I didn’t know if I could handle it.
But for the first time in my life, something shifted. I wanted to learn—to finally face the demons I’d spent so long running from.
I wanted to let go.