Chapter 10
A month had passed since that night.
Since the storm. Since the way his fingers had skimmed the hem of my shirt, barely touching me yet leaving a mark I couldn't erase. Since the way his gaze had lingered heated, intense, filled with something unspoken.
Since he walked away.
And ever since, Luca had been absent. I hadn't seen him in days.
He left early in the morning before I even woke up and came back late at night. Some nights, I wasn't sure if he even came home at all.
But there were signs that he did. The sheets on his side of the bed were always a little messy in the morning, the faintest indent on the pillow, proof that he had been there, if only for a few hours.
A used towel hung in the bathroom, still slightly damp.
A coffee mug sat in the sink, the remnants of dark liquid staining the bottom.
He was here. But never with me.
At first, I convinced myself it was a relief.
Luca Moretti was an arrogant, insufferable man who had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with this marriage. His absence should have felt like a gift.
But instead, it felt like a punishment.
And I hated myself for that.
For waiting.
Because that's what I was doing. Even as I was curled up on the bed, a book open in my lap, my mind wasn't on the words printed on the pages.
Even as I tried to sleep, I found myself listening for the sound of his arrival. Waiting for the sound of the front door unlocking. Waiting for the soft thud of his shoes against the marble floor.
Maybe this was for the best. Maybe it was better this way.
It wasn't like this marriage was ever supposed to be anything more than a contract. He had no reason to come to me. No reason to want to.
And yet I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted that night in the storm. That he had wanted to stay. That if I had reached for him, he might not have pulled away.
I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. It was foolish to think about.
He wasn't coming home anytime soon.
But still... I waited a little longer.
????
The club was dimly lit, the low hum of music vibrating through the walls. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars, whiskey and desperation from the women eyeing our table. I barely noticed.
I was leaned back against the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, the other gripping my glass. The burn of alcohol did little to dull the thoughts swirling in my head.
Thoughts of her.
Gavino was watching me, his smirk lazy, eyes sharp. "You have been quiet."
"I'm always quiet."
"Not this kind of quiet." He took a slow sip of his drink. "This is the 'I am about to explode and ruin everything' kind of quiet."
"Maybe I just don't feel like talking."
Gavino let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Bullshit."
I clenched my jaw, reaching for the whiskey bottle to pour myself another drink. The amber liquid sloshed against the glass as I tilted it, the sharp scent of alcohol filling the space between us.
I took a slow sip, letting the burn settle deep but still it did nothing to drown out the thoughts creeping in.
Because even here, miles away from her, surrounded by smoke and cheap temptation, Alessa was still in my fucking head.
She had been everywhere. Even when I wasn't home, she was in my damn head.
The way her breath hitched when I got too close.
The way she looked standing in my t-shirt, bare legs peeking out beneath the fabric, so fucking tempting I had to walk away before I did something I couldn't take back. Thanks to the call.
I had wanted to kiss her.
Fuck. I wanted more than that.
But I didn't.
Instead, I had been avoiding her like a damn coward.
"You know" Gavino stated, swirling the vodka tonic in his glass, "You haven't looked at a single woman all night."
I arched a brow, uninterested. "And?"
"And that's not normal for you." He gestured lazily toward a blonde at the bar who had been eyeing me for the last twenty minutes. "She has been waiting for you to notice her."
I didn't even glance her way. "Not interested."
Gavino let out a low whistle. "Damn. That wife of yours must be pretty good in bed if she has got you this distracted."
The words were barely out of his mouth before I moved.
In a blink, I grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward so fast his drink nearly spilled.
My voice was low, deadly calm. "I will chop off your fucking balls if you talk about my wife like that again."
Gavino didn't flinch. If anything, his smirk deepened. "Interesting."
I let go of him with a sharp shove, leaning back in my seat, fingers curling around my glass to keep from doing something I had regret.
"Relax, amico" he said, straightening his shirt like I hadn't just threatened to castrate him. "I was just testing a theory."
I drank from my glass. "And what fucking theory is that?"
Gavino grinned, tapping the rim of his glass against mine before taking a slow sip himself.
"That you actually give a shit."
I gave him a flat look and instead focused on the drink in my hand.
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I love writing about Luca and Gavino together.