Page 83 of Third Degree

“You know, when I talk about being equal partners, it doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it when you take charge, whether it’s ordering for me or… you know, in the bedroom,” I playfully remarked.

A seductive grin danced on his lips, revealing that he fully understood the underlying implication. I anticipated his response, knowing it would be something teasing yet enticing.

“Go on, Gianna,” he urged. The sound of my name on his tongue sent a shiver down my spine. “Use your words.”

I couldn’t help but stick my tongue out at him, feigning defiance. “I like it when you take control of me when we fuck,” I confessed, meeting his gaze with a mixture of boldness and affection. “Is that what you wanted me to say?”

His laughter mingled with the ambient sounds of the restaurant, adding to the warm and intimate atmosphere that surrounded us.

“I want to go to school,” I boldly confessed. I grasped my glass of wine in an effort to ground myself. I wasn’t sure how he was going to react to this confession.

“Brava(Good). For what?” He took a long pull at his gin, and I couldn’t read his face.

“Are you mad at me?” I dodged his question completely.

He stopped mid-gulp and looked at me, his brows furrowed in question. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because I shouldn’t go to school?”

“Says who?” he asked, this time his tone verging on anger.

“Our culture?”

“When have you given a fuck about what anyone thinks about you or what our ‘culture’ dictates?”

He was right. I guess I never did.

“I guess it’s a mix of uncertainty and not knowing what you truly want to do,” I confessed, my voice tinged with a hint of frustration. “At thirty-one years old, my only real passion seems to be collecting an absurd amount of plants.”

Elio’s response came effortlessly as if he held the key to all the answers. “Then why not study gardening?” he suggested. His words carried an air of simplicity.

I couldn’t help but groan in response.

“But I don’t even know if that’s truly what I enjoy,” I lamented, feeling a sense of being lost.

With a comforting tone, he reassured me, “It’s okay to feel lost sometimes. In fact, you’re fortunate to be at this point in your life where you have the opportunity to explore what truly brings you happiness.”

His words enveloped me like a warm embrace. The topic of finances had yet to be broached, and I knew I would have to confront the reality that I could no longer rely on my father’s financial support. But for now, I took solace in Elio’s understanding and encouragement.

“Go to school, Gianna. I just have to clean up a few odds and ends in San Diego—”

“That’s still where I want to live, though…” I trailed off. “That is, if it is still okay with you?”

“Of course. I have the club I have to finish opening anyway, so I planned to stay there.”

Our meal arrived then, and we were greeted by endless platters of food. It was a freaking feast.

I was grateful that the conversation shifted at that point to lighter topics. We talked about what we liked to do in our downtime, what hobbies we enjoyed, the fact that somehow Elio picked up playing tennis, and how I met my friends.

“I want to invite them over to wherever we end up. I need to explain to them.”

He nodded in agreement.

“I told them my name was Daphne because I never wanted to be connected to my family. It was a façade that I wanted to keep while I had this ticking clock counting the minutes of my freedom. But I need to tell them Daphne is my middle name.”

Elio nodded. “Then we will tell them. When we get there, we will invite them over, and you can tell them,” he said quite matter-of-factly.

“But then I should probably tell them I got married.”

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