Chapter 29 #2
Clutching my own Bible to my torso before I did something stupid like whack him with the hardcover again, I lurched to my full height, ineffectual against his tall frame.
I tipped my chin, putting on my best glare.
“Be my guest.” I turned to Glen and the others in my small group.
“Sorry, guys. I just remembered I made plans tonight.” Gathering my purse, I stormed out of the room and gripped the handle before slamming the door behind me, creating a loud echo.
The air still hung heavy with the petrichor from last night’s rain, matching the storm brewing inside me.
Bad enough humiliation had compelled me to find a new church.
Now Enzo rolled into my fellowship like an unwanted plague.
I bet to ruin the fresh start I worked so hard to rebuild these last few months.
Bobby, a harmless local who always skateboarded these streets late at night, skidded to a stop in front of me. And like every other night, he asked the same question. “Gemz, luv, got a dollar?”
“Gemma!” Enzo called from a fair distance.
“I’ll give you twenty if you pretend to be my boyfriend,” I all but begged Bobby.
He shook his head, eyes wide, waiting for me to elaborate, but I didn’t have a chance because Enzo now stood in front of us.
“Why’d you leave?” he demanded, thumbing behind him at the community center.
“I forgot I’m meeting this one tonight.” I swallowed, forcing a laugh that felt hollow even to my own ears. “Didn’t I tell you about Bobby?”
He stared at Bobby, appraising the long silver chain hanging from his cargo shorts to the hole-riddled, white tank top that had clearly seen better days. “No. Who is he?”
“My boyfriend, of course.” I kept my smile for good measure.
His green eyes flashed before narrowing at poor Bobby. “You… you met someone?”
I grabbed Bobby’s arm and tugged him closer. “We’d love to stick around and chat, but we’re headed out on a date right now, aren’t we, sweetie?”
Bobby ogled me, then passed Enzo a once-over. “ G’day, mate .”
His lip curled. “G’day? Are you serious, Gemma? You expect me to believe you’re dating this guy?”
He leaned closer to Bobby, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
I stepped between them, pushing Bobby away gently. “Enzo isn’t from around here, Bobby. He doesn’t understand our slang.”
Bobby gave Enzo a hard stare, puffing out his chest. “Are you looking to bung on a blue?”
He blinked, completely lost. “Bung on a... blue? I’ve no idea what you mean.”
I winced, waving a flippant hand, defusing the situation. “He just means… are you looking for trouble.”
Bobby raised an eyebrow, enjoying Enzo’s confusion. “You understand English, don’t ya?”
“English, yes.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, rocking back. “Not slang. So, where are you both off to? For some shrimp on a barbie?” He smiled, a wolfish grin that didn’t reach his eyes.
Bobby’s jaw dropped. “It’s not shrimp. They’re prawns, mate. Prawns!” Bobby shot me a look, his blonde brows squished together. “Why do they always say shrimp?”
I grabbed Bobby’s hand, tugging him down the street. “Don’t worry about it, Bobby. He’s just being a jerk. Besides, everyone knows it’s not a real barbecue without snags.”
We marched off, leaving a puzzled Enzo in our wake.
“Don’t forget me twenty, love?” Bobby muttered in my ear as we crossed onto Bay Street.
I grinned, a surge of adrenaline coursing through me. “I’ll keep my promise.”
◆◆◆
The tension had finally eased from my shoulders.
Of course, that’s when Enzo showed up at mine and Harper’s Thursday night target practice.
We’d finished loading our handguns when Harper quit rambling about her terrible day at work.
Instead, her jaw dropped. Her gaze moved up and down his figure in his expensive suit.
I gripped my handgun tighter, the cold metal a small comfort against my racing pulse.
Rolling my eyes, I donned my ear muffs and safety glasses, the familiar routine grounding me.
I then fired round after round at the target, barely registering the sharp crack of the weapon, the smell of gunpowder, the satisfying thud of each bullet hitting its mark.
Six bullets dead center. Flicking the safety, I set the weapon on the table, lowered my earmuffs and pivoted, cocking a brow at Enzo.
“I can only guess whose face you pictured just now.” He grinned and winked, the gesture making the butterflies in my stomach flutter, a betraying wave of attraction, making me hate him even more.
Harper surveyed us, coiling the hem of her shirt around her finger. She knew who he was, and had listened to me complain about him all week. “I need to use the bathroom.” She shot me a pointed stare and mouthed. “ Talk to him .”
Don’t leave me alone with this psycho , I begged Harper through my widening gaze, but she turned and walked away.
He stepped in front of me, blocking my desperate glare at Harper. “If you give me a minute, I promise I’ll leave.”
I blinked. Leave? My pulse quickened. My mouth opened to…
what? Protest? I quickly snapped it shut.
Hadn’t I given him the cold shoulder, so he’d fly back to Italy and avoid coming here again?
“Good, go.” Why did I want to take back those words?
I wrapped my arms around my midsection, a sudden chill settling deep in my bones, tightening like a vise around my resolve.
“But first you have to hear me out.” He stood tall, determined… much like the man I recognized months ago. “If you still don’t want me, I’ll let this go. Let us go.” His tone, soft and raspy, held a layer of defeat.
A stipulated condition? What a surprise. I huffed a breath, packed away my equipment, and fired Harper a text to say I’d be out the front talking to Enzo.
He followed me out of the shooting range, his footsteps too close behind me.
The echo of gunfire faded in the background as we descended the concrete steps outside.
The street lay deserted, the parked cars like silent sentinels guarding the empty storefronts across the road.
The harsh glare of the streetlights offered small solace, their pools of light failing to penetrate the deep shadows clinging over the closed shops up ahead.
I rubbed my arms against the cold air, a stark contrast to the adrenaline thrumming beneath my skin.
“Just know…” I choked, unable to force the words out.
My eyes burned, tears welling up, blurring his face.
“I hate you.” The words escaped as a raw whisper, each syllable a jagged shard of glass in my throat. “I hate you... so much it hurts.”
His face crumpled, a mask of disbelief and pain.
I tipped my chin, clamping my teeth together to stop myself from saying more, from taking the words back.
Shoulders sagging, he peered at the ground, at the lone leaf tumbling past on the night breeze. “I never wanted to walk away.”
I grit my teeth, ignoring the sting accommodating the low rasp in his voice.
“How can you say that after you made believe you wanted to marry someone else?” I jabbed my chest a little harder than intended.
“You made me believe I’d been played, that I meant nothing .
” A mock laugh escaped my throat. “Maybe if you’d stopped me from getting on the plane, maybe if you hadn’t trampled my heart before discarding me…
but you didn’t. Now you’re back after this long!
After so many gut-wrenching nights, after I’ve spent months rebuilding my life? How can I even trust you?”
He swept his hands through his hair. “I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you.”
“And the worst part is I hate myself more,” I confessed, the words tearing from my throat.
“Because I wished I’d given into you, wished we’d shared one night together so I’d have one memory to hold on to.
” I swiped at the tears streaking my face, my heart clenching so painfully, it robbed me of breath. “You made me regret my one vow.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Don’t,” he pleaded, his voice thick with despair. “Please, don’t hate yourself, Gemma. You held true to what you believed, what you still believe. I respected that then, and I respect it now. You made the right choice.”
“You bet I did.” I stomped my foot, rewarded with prickles up my leg and regretting the action.
He stepped into my space, grasping both my hands. “I would have come… the same week you left, I would have been here.”
What? I stilled, holding my breath. Then why stay in Italy?
He squeezed my fingers, his green eyes beseeching.
“After Lucio’s wedding, I contacted the jet.
” The lines around his mouth deepened, his jaw clenching so tight the muscle jumped.
His eyes, usually bright and intense, were shadowed with a dull ache.
“I was about to leave, but then… my mother got into a car accident.”
Goodness, Carina wasn’t my favorite person, but I’d never wish this on her or anyone. Vertigo struck, and I swayed on my feet, gripping his hands for balance. “Is she…”
“She’s alive. After many surgeries and a long recovery.” A soft smile tugged at his lips. “Every single time, though, she begged me to go to you, begged me to get you back. She wants us both to be happy.”
Carina wanted us to be happy? My head spun.
The same Carina who sabotaged our marriage at every turn, who threatened my life, who couldn’t stand the sight of me?
That Carina wanted us happy? It was like hearing the devil had suddenly become a saint.
My gut twisted with a mixture of confusion and a deep, bone-chilling unease.
But he believed it. The hope, the relief in his eyes, said as much.
Was he naive? Blinded by his love for his mother?
Or was he withholding something from me?
Protecting her? Protecting himself? I studied his face, searching for any sign of deception, any hint of the truth.
But all I saw was the man I loved, the man who had hurt me so deeply, the man who now asked me to trust him again.
And I didn’t know if I could. As for Carina, I couldn’t erase the months of mistrust, the memories of her cruelty.
I’d have to see it for myself to believe it.
“I couldn’t just leave my mother in the hospital. This is why I never came after you, not because I didn’t want to.”
He licked his lips, the action sparking a deep urge within me.
Part of me wanted to throw myself into his arms and never let go.
But another part, the part that had survived the last six months, was screaming at me to be careful, to protect myself.
“And what about now? Is she… is she okay?” Deep down, I meant the words.
As much as I didn’t trust Carina, a part of me pitied the broken woman.
“She’s in a wheelchair, residing with full-time carers in Rome.” Tears pooled in his eyes. “She was right. I should have followed her advice and come after you sooner.”
My heart clenched. The stress he must have endured, the worry… not only for his mother, but over where we stood, too. “I wished you’d reached me, called, or written a letter, an email even.” I rolled my eyes, recalling the day I learned he’d sent my ex fiance an email.
He smirked at my last pun. “You have no idea how many times I almost called, but I was terrified. If I’d heard your voice, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself. I would have come running.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, taking his time to stroke through the strands.
God help me how I missed his touch.
His eyes shuddered close as though reveling in the feel. “I convinced myself it was better to wait and face you in person.”
I frowned, imagining how I would have reacted if he had called during my darkest days. Without question, I would have hung up on him.
“I made a vow before God to love and honor you. I know I broke it, I messed up, but I’ll spend my life proving to you I can live up to it.
To be the husband you deserve. Because… you’re my wife.
” He stepped closer, his voice thick with emotion.
“I’m not giving up. You can hate me, you can run, you can pretend I don’t exist, but you are mine, Gemma. I love you.”
His words were a balm, a soothing ointment I’d needed for so long. My chin wobbled, and I swiped at a tear. Only a fool would trust him, would give him another chance. Even though I remained skeptical, I couldn’t deny what my heart screamed. “I love you, too.”
He jerked me close, my breath hitching as he slanted his lips over mine.
It wasn’t soft. It was rough, possessive, like he was staking a claim.
Silky heat invaded my mouth, liquifying my limbs.
I looped my arms around his neck, unable to resist a second longer.
His hands slid down my back, each fingertip pressing into my flesh.
I was a fool, no doubt about it. And if this turned out to be another trick, another game…
God knew I wouldn’t survive it. None of that mattered, though, not with his skilled lips manipulating mine.
In an instant, I swore a vow, too. I vowed to kiss this man every day until my last.