Page 78 of Where Quiet Hearts Scream
“When will you be back from Washington?” she asks.
“Tuesday. We’re only going for a few days.”
“Huh.” She shovels a handful of nuts into her mouth. “That’s not a long honeymoon.”
“Says the woman whohasn’t had one of her own yet.”
“Touché,” she concedes. “So, what are your plans when you get to Washington?”
I have no idea because I can’t think much beyond the bedroom and how I’m going to seduce my husband into giving me more of those delicious orgasms.
“Well, there’s a business dinner…”
Trilby tuts loudly which I choose to ignore.
“And I’d love to visit some galleries and monuments while we’re there.”
“Oh there are some amazing ones—I’ll give you some tips.”
“I’d love that,” I smile.
“So, things are… better?” she asks timidly.
“Yeah, they are actually.”
“What changed?”
Oh um, he killed a governor for feeling me up beneath the table? He’s spent a fortune on therapists, chefs and trainers to make me well again? And he’s determined to make me love my scars by withholding his apparently monstrous dick from me just as I’ve decided it’s now the thing I want most in the world?
“I suppose I’ve just gotten to know him a bit more.”
“So, you’re happy with the arrangement?” There’s hope in her voice because even though she wants this marriage to work for the sake of the ‘firm,’ she’s still my sister.
“I wouldn’t go that far just yet. I still resent the fact I had absolutely no say in it, and I still don’t like that I lost my internship and the life I was looking forward to.”
I still feel so much anger toward my husband. If only he’d told me the truth and let me get to know him in my own time, I might have willingly said yes to a ring eventually. But he took that choice away from me. He’s taken a lot of choices away from me, despite it being supposedly in my best interests.
But I’m learning each day that anger and infatuation can co-exist. Especially when it results in an actual Greek God making out with my substantially sized lower body and appearing toloveit.
“Baby steps,” Trilby says with a sigh. “Well, you look happier and that’s all that matters to me. Are you still practicing astrology? And doing Tarot?”
I’m surprised at the question. Trilby is another member of my family who never bought into my hobby.
I sigh, giving it genuine thought. “Not so much actually.”
“Really? Why not?”
“I’m not sure. I think maybe I used it as a crutch to a certain extent. I still love it and find it interesting and helpful—sometimes—but I have other things to do now. Things I’m enjoying more, like reading and gardening and helping Viola around the house. It relaxes me.”
I don’t say it out loud because it feels too bold a shift to voice before I’ve had chance to really think it through, but the word that most describes my current state is ‘content.’ I feel content.
“How’s everyone at home?” I ask, as I plate up some snacks that Chef Alessandro had prepared in anticipation of my sister’s brief visit.
“Oh you know, the same. Tess has been given strict orders to stay at home at least four nights a week. Papa now thinks it’s unbecoming of a young woman practically betrothed to a second-in-command to be seen away from home too often outside wedlock.”
“What?” I stifle a groan. “Since when did Papa care about us keeping up appearances?”
“Since I married us all into this,” she replies with a heavy sigh.
