Page 139 of Ache for You (Slow Burn 3)
“I’ll never be able to copy that, catwalk boy. And thanks for that ego-boosting description of how I move. It was just the shot in the arm I needed.”
When I glare at him, he dissolves into laughter. “Oh, Poppins. I tease. Your walk is lovely. I’m only trying to loosen you up.”
“Please, no more loosening. It’s having the opposite effect. I’m wound so tight I might snap.”
“I know,” he says softly, coming back to rest his hands on my shoulders. “It all feels a bit déjà vu, doesn’t it? The last time we were in a room together prepping you for a big event, it didn’t end quite as planned.”
“Hopefully this time will be different. Knock wood.” I reach out and lightly rap my knuckles against his temple.
“Very funny. At least you’re not carrying calla lilies.”
“That reminds me. Where’s my clutch?”
“Here.” He picks it up from the counter, then makes a face at it. “What’s in this thing? Rocks?”
“Lip gloss, my phone, and a giant stack of business cards. If all goes well I’ll be handing them out like candy.”
He chuckles. “I love it that you’re going into this with such an entrepreneurial spirit.”
I practice the deep breathing again because my heart has decided it would be a good time to pound. “It would be smarter if I were going into it with a belly full of Xanax. God, this is worse than the wedding. My nerves are shot!”
I hold out a hand, and we watch it tremble.
Jenner murmurs, “You really have feelings for him, don’t you?”
What an understatement. “Turns out that old adage ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’ is true. I just wish . . .”
When I’m silent too long, Jenner prompts, “What?”
I look up into his eyes and say quietly, “I wish it could be easier.”
“It?”
“Love. Relationships. Why does it all have to be so confusing and convoluted?”
He sighs, smoothing a hand over my hair. “Because real life isn’t a fairy tale, darling, and making a relationship last is hard. Love involves a lot of forgiveness. People aren’t perfect. Falling in love is easy, but staying in love is a choice. You have to decide if the ups and downs are worth sticking out because there will be plenty of them. There will be pain.
“That’s where we all go wrong, expecting love to be a Hallmark commercial where you run through a field of clover into each other’s arms and live happily ever after with no regrets. True love is when you can look at someone and say, ‘I know you will hurt me and disappoint me and fail me in a thousand different ways, and I accept that because you make me a better person. Because with you I become whole. Because I’d rather die than live a single day without you, come what may.”
I stare at him, blinking back tears so I don’t ruin my mascara. “Honestly, you’re the last person in the world I would’ve expected that from.”
He swallows hard, looking away. When he speaks, his voice is low and rough. “Not all of us are brave enough to risk our hearts being broken more than once. Not all of us could survive it.”
I’m shocked by that. Ten years I’ve known this man, and this is the first time I’ve glimpsed the lovelorn side of him. Apparently his revolving door of partners started after a heartbreak so big he couldn’t come back from it.
I ask gently, “Are you gonna tell me about it?”
He draws himself up, tosses his head, and forces a bright smile. “Not right before you hop into your carriage to head off to the ball. Come on, let’s get going. I have a surprise for you.”
“Xanax?”
“Better. A limo. And you don’t have to worry about it turning into a pumpkin at midnight. I paid extra for that.”
With a furtive swipe of a knuckle at the corner of his eye, he leads me by the elbow from the room.
The palace is a massive blocky neoclassical structure set in the heart of Milan, right next to a white cathedral that looms over it with skyscraping spires. The facade of the palace is spectacularly uplit in washes of red light, making the building glow like a ruby against the sapphire evening sky. Ruffled by the breeze, a row of crimson banners emblazoned with the Moretti logo hangs from the roof, boldly declaring the palace’s occupant for the night.
Matteo definitely knows how to put his stamp on things.
