Page 22 of Finding Love

“I have to get out of here,” she says in a breathless rush, looking around for her shoes, which she shoves her feet into. She’s frantic, shaking, eager to get away from me. The person who loves her more than anyone ever has or will.

I don’t sound loving when I demand, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“On a walk. Don’t worry,” she adds with a bitter laugh over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving my cage.”

“Emilia, please just stay and talk?—”

“I’ve heard enough lies for now. Thanks very much.” She shoves her way past me, and I don’t bother stopping her because if she doesn’t get out of my sight, this will get a lot uglier than it already has. The small bit of sense remaining in my overheated brain knows this is only going to get worse. I’m only making things worse when all I want to do is make everything right between us. She pulls on her coat and leaves without another word, slamming the door hard enough to make the windows rattle.

I reach for the closest thing to me, which happens to be another photo of her parents. The satisfaction of hurling it across the room is short-lived, nothing but a memory by the time the broken frame hits the floor.

Broken the way we are.

I have to wonder if there’s any way to put us back together.

10

EMILIA

I should say something, shouldn’t I?

Sitting in the back seat of this car, my hand resting on the box I picked up minutes ago at the wig maker’s shop in the shopping village. Luca sits on the box’s other side, involved with his phone.

Aside from making the arrangements for a last-minute appointment at the shop, we haven’t said much to each other since that disaster a few days ago. I still cringe when I think about it. I was so ready, practically on the verge of begging him to fuck me, when those ugly memories came back.

I wish I understood why. Why then? It’s like being tortured, plain and simple. I was about to have what was bound to be the best sex of my entire life, and then bam! Traumatic memories came slamming through the door and shoved all thoughts of sex aside. I went from floating in bliss to drowning in fear, unable to process the nasty images crashing into my head and the intense emotions they stirred up. I still can’t quite process it.

When things cooled off, and it was clear there was no getting out of this dinner tonight, it was time to start thinking logically. One thing was obvious. I couldn’t go to dinner with my parents looking the way I do. As it is, a knit hat is the only thing making it possible for me to show my face in public.

It’s one thing to practically have a crew cut, but the stitches along the back of my scalp are plainly visible, thanks to my lack of hair.

“Thank you for going to the trouble,” I murmur, staring at my hand rather than looking at Luca. “Arranging for all of this, you know. I appreciate it.”

He grunts at first, his thumbs moving over the screen. After another few moments, he mutters, “They’re supposed to be the best. The most natural-looking. You feel good having it on?”

Good isn’t the word. Once the living, breathing angel at the shop showed me how to put on the wig and what I would need to do to style it, I was able to look at myself in the mirror. I could’ve cried. For the first time in forever, I felt like myself. I looked like me, not some shadow of who I used to be.

“It looks great,” I tell him.

“I’m glad,” he retorts with a humorless snort before going back to his phone. “I went through enough trouble getting you in at the last minute.”

What a charmer. Every little jewel that falls from his lips makes me wonder how I or anyone else could fall in love with a man like him. I’m supposed to act like everything is fine and dandy during this dinner when just the act of sitting this close to him makes my skin crawl.

Right. Keep telling yourself that.

Okay, so he doesn’t always have that effect on me. Even now, with the temperature between us downright icy, I find myself squeezing my thighs together in memory of the mind-blowing reaction I had to him. I was on fire, barely in control of myself. I hardly recognized the person I had become, but that wasn’t enough to stop me. Only the memory that bubbled up was strong enough, probably because my mind was free of questions and worries for the first time in ages. Who can think when they’re in the middle of trying to rip somebody’s clothes off?

I need him to be on his best behavior tonight, and the grumpy lump-of-shit act he’s pulling right now isn’t going to fly. I need to find some way to mend fences. “You said we’ve been to this restaurant before? The one we’re going to tonight?”

Watching him out of the corner of my eye, I notice the typing stops. “Yes. I bought out the place for the night. You wanted a normal experience, and things weren’t safe enough for us to go out without taking extra precautions.”

I wish I could remember that. Something nice, something good. Even if I were faking my feelings, it would be a memory to cling to now, when we have to play the happy couple for my parents or risk all kinds of ugliness I don’t want to imagine.

It’s going to get ugly either way. Dad will recognize him. He’s a chronic news watcher. Considering he raised me to be the kind of person who would never associate with criminals, he’s going to be shocked, to put it mildly. I’ll be lucky if we get out of this without a public fight.

No, that’s not Dad’s style. He would much rather walk out. Either way, it’s going to be humiliating.

“Nervous?” I turn my head at Luca’s sudden question, and he glances at my fingers, tapping rapidly against the top of the box.

---