CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ding. Rocco’s phone sounded.
I lifted my head from his chest and sat back next to him as he answered the call. “Gunnar, talk to me. Yes… Hmm… Why… Oh… Right now? I’ll be right there.” He hung up, dragging his hand over his face and blowing out.
I tensed. “What happened?”
“Gunnar said there’s something on the video that can’t wait.” His gaze turned distant.
“What could it be?” I pressed, worry growing in my chest with every heartbeat.
“I’m not sure…In six years together, he’s never told me to drop everything and come.
Did you leave something out?” His voice stayed steady, but a flicker of doubt crept in, making me tense.
For a moment, his suspicion made me question myself, guilt prickling under my skin until I shook it off.
“Rocco, I told you everything I saw, even the parts I wish I hadn’t.
Maybe Gunnar just sees things another way. ”
“Maybe,” he said, returning his phone to his blazer and rising from the couch. “Anyway, I’ll be back later.”
I moved to stand. “I’d like to come with you. I could help—”
“No, you can’t,” he said abruptly.
I frowned. “Why not?”
“It’s going to be a lawyer-client meeting; it’s confidential. It’d be the same if you met with Ian. I’d stay out of it.”
“Oh,” I murmured.
He bent down and picked up the hotel’s service tablet. “I’ll try to make it back as soon as I can, but the photoshoot’s an early call. If it’s not too late, we can still go out.” He tapped on the screen.
I kneaded the knots in my neck, tension coiling through my muscles. “No, thanks…I’m not up for it.”
“Get a massage. There’s a spa in the suite.”
I peered around the living room. “What? In here?”
“Yes,” he said and handed the tablet to me. He had ordered risotto and two chocolate desserts.
I smirked. “How do you know I want risotto?”
“You love risotto, and you wouldn’t want to miss it here.”
“Two desserts?”
“There may be two of you.”
I caught that familiar smile. The one he had that captivated me since day one. Butterflies stirred in my stomach, and I was amazed at how quickly I’d fallen for him. Still, tension lingered between us.
“I want to say sorry again. It wasn’t until I had to really think about it and everything going on—”
“Please, don’t,” Rocco said. “It’s over. We don’t look back; we go forward. We’ll celebrate tomorrow, go dancing if you like.”
“I don’t want to go dancing,” I mumbled.
He smirked. “Well, think of something you want to do then. But for now, eat dinner, get a massage, and rest.”
“You’re being bossy,” I half-joked.
“Yeah, I am, and you taking care of yourself is a priority.”
“Is this how it’ll be if I am pregnant?” The words were out before I could think about it.
“Did you expect anything less?” he said in a soft tone. I raised my head and watched him walk off toward the elevators.
A sudden bubble of joy rose inside me. I wanted nothing more than for him to be happy, for us to move forward. But he still held back. No kiss.
I slumped back in the seat and rubbed my throbbing temples. Can I take aspirin? I did a quick search online. Small doses are okay. Good.
Buzz. My phone vibrated in my hand. Rocco already?
Rocco: You’re booked for a massage in 10 minutes.
Adelina: I don’t feel up to it.
Rocco was quick with another answer.
Rocco: You’ll feel better afterward. Just walk into the spa. Food will be delivered when you’re done.
A smile tugged at my lips. Was he really about to put me on a schedule?
Adelina: Fine. Thank you.
Rocco was careful not to mention the baby on the phone.
But had he decided to treat me like I was pregnant?
It was just his way, from what I learned about him.
He may doubt that, but I do know that he didn’t like having his life dictated, and that was why he chose to make movies instead of staying at Marini Corporate.
Luca was the same way, he liked control.
And no matter how much I tried to soothe myself, I was irresponsible and I hurt him.
I wandered from room to room, mainly to distract my mind.
It was spacious, with a conference room and even a real spa.
Nerves fluttered as I stepped inside. The staff appeared as if by magic, guiding me to a changing room.
I stripped down to my underwear, placed the towel around me, and returned to the room, finding the lights dimmed.
The masseuse’s hands worked their magic, and I melted into the hush, drifting far away.
My mind wandered to Luca’s countryside home, picturing myself savoring espresso and getting lost in a book.
The daydream grew: a little boy, our child, his arms wrapped around a heavy copy of Alice in Wonderland, determined to reach my lap.
He’d curl up in my arms, and for the hundredth time, I’d read to him.
He’d point to the pictures I’d drawn on his wall, stretching his imagination and believing in dreams…
That would be perfect. My dream expanded, picturing Rocco swooping in, scooping up our son, and whisking him off to bed.
Our boy would beg for just one more chapter.
Rocco would kiss my forehead, I’d rest my head on his arm, and our son would nestle in.
Of course, Rocco would give in and read two more.
He’d love every second, and I wanted so badly to share this dream with him. Maybe one day, I will.
After, I took a shower, put on a robe, and padded to the closet to change. Some clothes were mine and Rocco’s. However, there were also stacks of gift boxes. Is this for Rocco’s shoot?
I was too curious not to see what Versace had sent him to wear. I unzipped the garment bags, and there were suits, but there were also dresses, boxes of designer watches, cosmetics, and accessories. It was as if a store had exploded. What’s going on? One of them had a note.
It finally dawned on me. Did these businesses send us free gifts?
I brushed out my damp hair, which hung past my shoulders, almost mid-back length, longer than I had ever worn it. A memory surfaced. I was back standing in front of my grandparents for the first time, and Mama was on the floor, begging.
Mrs. Belfiore’s eyes narrowed. “She’s wearing a hat inside. You didn’t teach her manners?” Her mocking tone didn’t move me to act.
Instead, I stared down at Mama. She gave me a nod, and I pulled off my hat, holding back the impulse to run my hand over my shaved scalp. A few sores had scabbed over but were still visible, and the pinch in Mrs. Belfiore’s expression made it clear she’d seen them.
Mama reached up and touched my back, and I straightened my spine, adjusting my oversized hooded sweatshirt and flare jeans.
Long hair had never been safe with my father; nothing beautiful was. How many times did he use any beauty in life to torment me? Hurt me? Destroy me? But that life was behind me. I’m okay. I’m happy. Now, Rocco brushed and kissed my hair and held me close.
I let it grow because, for the first time, I felt loved and safe.
The sound of The Platters’ “Only You” played from somewhere in the room, and I quickly realized it was a ringtone from my new phone.
Memories of dancing with Rocco that night at our announcement party brought on a wave of nostalgia and a sense of loneliness.
I had been so alone in my life at that time, but then came Rocco, pushing Mama’s buttons.
We argued in the car. Crazy. But then he went down on me for my first time.
I grinned and checked the caller. Cass! “Hello, gorgeous.”
“Did you ask Rocco to give me a role in a movie?” she blurted.
I stopped walking. “No, I haven’t, but I will if you want me to. I just thought you were busy with law school.”
Cass sighed heavily down the line. “Good. Then it’s real. Oh, my God.”
She let out a scream, and I held the phone away from my ear and laughed. “What’s going on? Tell me so I can scream, too.”
“My agent contacted me and said there’s been lots of buzz since we attended the premiere together.”
I put the phone on speaker and put on a new tracksuit. “You’ve become an ‘it girl,’ gorgeous.”
“Become? I’ve been one forever. But seriously, we both thought it was the new styling Isla gave me for the event. I want to steal her, but she told me she’s building her own agency.”
“I can definitely see that. She’s the best.” Cass had received a lot of attention, and I had saved many photos of her from the event. However, Isla was so much more than a stylist; she managed many jobs simultaneously and seamlessly.
Ding. The doorbell?
“Someone’s at the door.” I remembered that Rocco had ordered dinner for me. “Back in a sec.” I opened the door, and a host was there with a cart.
“Where would you like it, Mrs. Marini?”
“The…dining room?” I said and followed after her to the room. There was a six-seater place setting. She set up my food, then waited. “Do I need to sign?” I asked.
“Yes.” She handed me a tablet, and I signed. Then, I thanked her as I closed the door.
“That was dinner,” I said, returning to the call.
“Look at you, handling things like a pro.”
I laughed. “I’ve stayed in a hotel before, you know.” A warm memory bubbled up: Mama, Jacob, and me celebrating her birthday in a hotel I’d saved up for. We had ordered room service and laughed until our sides hurt.
“I miss you, gorgeous,” Cass said. “Oh, I haven’t told you the news.”
I sat down at the table and put her on speaker. “Please tell me before I combust.”
“Okay, long story short, I have a small role in a major film.”
“Woo-hoo!” I let out a cheer and fist-pumped the air. “Yay. Tell me everything.”
Cass laughed. “It’s a sci-fi movie. I’ll play a robot and a hologram in a dystopian future caste society. The crazy part is that I’ll have to go film in Iceland in like a month.”
“I love this for you, but what about law school?”
“I’ve been going through the motions. Not as invested, but I have good grades. I’ve put in for a leave of absence—”
“But I thought they didn’t do that at Harvard,” I pointed out.
“I put in for one anyway. If I get rejected, I’ll transfer to L.A.
Chances like this don’t come every day. This could be my big break.
” There was no more joking in her tone. I’d seen her for years trying to balance her love for acting with trying to earn her degree.
Her parents had insisted she have a backup, mainly because most couldn’t make acting a career.
But Cass was talented, and I believed in her.
“I’m a hundred percent behind you, and you know it. It’s what you always wanted. I don’t see any reason not to go for it.”
“Look at us. Going for our dreams. You’re a big-time illustrator. I’m so excited. Mom and Dad are bragging about you all over California.”
“Really?”
“Yep, and you won’t believe who’s caught a case,” Cass said.
Then she talked about her parents’ clients as I ate, though she left out their names.
I didn’t follow much pop culture news, but it was fun to listen in and hear all the gossip.
When we were winding down again, I remembered she had mentioned Rocco and asked what he had to do with her film.
“He’s the producer, but I auditioned twice, went back to New York City for a test shot, did a video call read with the casting director—”
“It’s yours. You earned it. End of discussion. Don’t worry about Rocco. He never mentioned it. In fact, he’s barely talking to me.”
“Ohh, trouble in paradise?”
“The waters are a bit shaky,” I said between bites. “But I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m so happy about your acting, and wow, Iceland.”
“I’m so excited about it. Oh, and Jansen is in it.”
“Who?”
“Jansen. The naked art guy.”
“No way. Oh, I met him.”
“You did?”
I told her about the time Rocco had threatened to “rip him in half” at the party in Cannes.
“That’s hilarious. Rocco was crazy about you from the very start.”
“He was definitely protective.”
“Because you’re his,” she said in a deep mocking tone.
I giggled. “Oh, I’m going to be sick.”
“Sure, you get off on it,” she teased.
I grinned. “I do in bed.”
“Stop bragging. It’s unbecoming.”
I laughed.
“Seriously, gorgeous, you sure you don’t want to tell me? If you’re upset, I can help.”
“I’m sure.” Sometimes it’s better to let time take care of it. If I’m pregnant, I’ll tell her; otherwise, it can wait until later.
“Well, whatever it is, Rocco loves you and will have to get over it.”
“Oh, he does?” I said and took a bite of the chocolate cake. Delicious.
“That’s what I tell the guys I date.”
“I know, and they put up with it.”
“Because I’m fab.”
“There was a bunch of stuff sent over here. It’s insane.”
“Goodie bags? Please send photos, and I’ll make my list.”
“Of course.”
We ended the call, and I was thankful to have Cass to talk to. She always had a way of lifting my spirits. Even though I wasn’t ready to tell her about the baby, just hearing her voice made me feel less alone.
I walked around for a while and then put on a movie. After a few hours, a hostess came and removed the food.
It was ten p.m. when I finally received a call. “Hello?”
“Hi, Adelina.” Rocco.
“Hi. Where are you?”
“I’m still in a meeting, and it looks like it’s going to be a late night and maybe an extra day in Milan. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m sure it’s important.”
“It is.”
“Can you tell me what’s going on?” I raised my voice, lifted my shoulders, and dug a toe into the high-piled carpet. I felt a surge of frustration. Why was he so secretive?
“No, I’m sorry, I can’t.”
I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Finally, I asked, “Can you tell me why not?”
He sighed down the line. “No. It’s not a good time to discuss it. And honestly, I need time to process things myself.”
I swallowed. “Oh, I see.” We used to discuss things together, sharing our thoughts and fears. Was it because he didn’t trust me, or was there something more?
“I must go, but since we’re staying, we can have a day out, see the Duomo and Leonardo’s work. Dinner and dancing?”
“Really?” I said excitedly. Seeing The Last Supper had always been on my bucket list.
“Yes. I’ll block off the time. How about that?”
“But you’re busy—”
“Busy is our life. But if you want to do these things, I’ll have to coordinate it with security and let Isla know.
” His voice was strained, and I didn’t want to add more stress for him.
Then again, he suggested it, and it was a chance to make things better between us.
“Yes. I’d love to go. Please arrange it, or I can call Isla. ”
“She’s here. I’ll tell her.”
“Oh, yeah,” I mumbled. I bet Isla knows everything.
Then again, it was her job as his personal manager.
But what about me as his wife? When will I get to know things about my husband’s life?
It’s hard to truly get to know him when his personal manager is the only needs-to-know person.
“I have to go. You should rest, all right?”
“Okay. I miss you.”
“Me, too. Goodnight, Adelina.”
We hung up, and I stared at the phone. Me, too? Rocco had never said that before.
I buried my head in my hands.
What can I do to make it right?