Page 23 of Thorns of Desire
“Because it’s been on my mind.”
She frowned. “But why would that man be on your mind?”
I debated how to answer without revealing too much.
“Do you remember him?” I asked, watching her carefully.
Her expression turned slightly dreamy.
“Yes, Manuel Marchetti. Who could forget that man?” Then, as if remembering herself, she narrowed her gaze at me. “Why are you bringing him up?”
I shrugged, playing nonchalant. “I think I saw him in Paris.”
Not exactly a lie.
“Did he see you?”
“Yes.”
“Did he recognize you? Did you talk to him?” I really didn’t want to lie to her, but I knew what her reaction would be if I told her the whole truth.
“No.”
“You’re being very vague and short.”
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“Where did you see him?”
“Well, I went out with the girls and we got separated. Some men started harassing me and he stepped in, chasing them away.”
“That sounds like him. Always the gentleman.” Mom’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And he didn’t recognize you?”
“No.”
“You didn’t tell him who you were, did you?”
“There wasn’t much talking.” I wet my lips, recalling that night, before I gathered my wits about me and cleared my throat. “No, I didn’t tell him anything.”
Mom’s mouth curved and a dreamy sigh left her lips.
“I wish I could have taken that man to bed.” I released a breath I’d been holding since touching down in Spain. Relief unlike anything else filled me at the knowledge my mother hadn’t slept with Manuel Marchetti. I loved her, but that didn’t mean I felt comfortable sharing her lovers. “Love is painful. It tears you apart, but for him, I would have given it another try.”
Love tears you apart and shreds you into tiny little pieces.It was what she had always told me. She’d told me if it hurt, you could be sure you were in love. It was how I measured all my relationships—if they could be called that. I didn’t let myself get hurt, so I must have never been in love.
“Maybe it’s good that you haven’t,” I retorted wryly.
“The word is that he’s very well endowed and can fuck like?—”
I gasped, flushing furiously. “Mother!”
She reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Oh, shush. It’s not like we’re virgins.”
I’d never come out and told my mother I’d lost my virginity, but she assumed. Her theory was that when five girls lived together, they usually did dumb things.
“You’re the most untraditional mother a girl could have,” I stated, shaking my head.
She leaned back into the seat with a sigh. “I try, Athena. I don’t want you stuck in a box.” A shudder rippled down my spine. Mom winced and quickly took my hand into hers, squeezing it tightly. “I don’t want you to be what’s expected, because men or society expect that from you.”
