Page 130 of Giovanna

“Are you sure about this? There’s no going back once it is done…”

“One hundred percent. Tell me this doesn’t make sense.”

It does make sense and not just because it is exactly the outcome that I want. It plays to Elio’s strengths and mine. The only issue is that Dad and the capos might kick up a stink. But Elio is right, he retired and this is our show now.

“Not sure Francesca will be any happier about marrying me though,” I grumble. I’m irritated by the vulnerability I hear in my voice,

“You are fuckin’ joking right? The girl has been obsessed with you forever. You’ve pissed her off, but marrying you is her dream come true,” he sounds sincere.

I’m not so sure I haven’t ruined all my chances. “Well, we will see when she wakes up. My bet is on her kicking me out of the room.”

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Francesca

Like swimming through lukewarm soup, my sleep isn’t restful, it is searching. I break the surface briefly many times feeling the momentary assault of sensory overload. Beeps, voices, prodding, disinfectant, and someone clutching my hand. Each time I’m sucked back into the amniotic warmth and I kick on.

I am never in doubt that I will eventually surface for good. It isn’t a fight for survival, but it does feel like an effort. Like my body has to expend an extraordinary amount of energy just to propel me back toward consciousness.

The first time I’m awake for a few minutes before I’m sucked back under like quicksand. I realise I am awake when I register the cool air-conditioned temperature and the sensation of a hand in mine, thumb stroking my knuckles.

My eyes are gluey and it takes a moment for me to get them open. Giovanna absentmindedly continues to stroke my hand, her attention taken by the old television mounted in the corner of the room. It appears to be showing reruns ofJudge Judyand I want to smile at how focused she is on the show, but I’m just emerging from the fog.

I’m still staring at the back of Giovanna’s head when she turns and notices my eyes are open.

“Francesca! You’re awake! I’m here, baby.” She jumps to her feet whispering over me. She kisses my forehead and I want to say something.Hello. You’re here. I love you. Anything. But the pull is too strong and my eyes roll closed again.

How many more times I move between states of consciousness, I don’t know. But I know I am getting sick of it. I want to wake up and stay awake.

“Giovanna?” I rasp, my throat and mouth dry from disuse.

“Hey, you’re back,” she smiles softly. She looks exhausted. Dark shadows frame her eyes and she is wearing a very rumpled suit. Somehow, despite this, she is still utterly stunning.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” I whinge and she laughs softly. The lights seem brighter this time and the sounds sharper. And I’m able to retrieve memories that were previously out of reach. Painful memories.

“Why are you here?” I ask her and her relieved smile disappears, replaced by an expression riddled with guilt and frustration. Maybe even fear.

She takes a deep breath and cups my cheek in her palm. “That’s a fair question, darlin’. I needed to be here when you woke up. To tell you I’m sorry.” She sits back down in her chair but leans forward with her arms on my bed.

“I’ve never been so scared,” she whispers, raising her dark brown eyes to mine.

I want to believe that she cares, I do. But this is the same woman who called me ‘baby’ and held me like I was the most precious thing in her life before ghosting me and saying what we had was “only sex”. Twice.

Only an idiot would sign themselves up for a third round of rejection, right?

“Where’s Massimo?” I ask.

She inclines her head towards the door. “In the waiting room.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and stare straight ahead. “Please can you leave me alone and ask Massimo to come?” My voice is frustratingly shaky.

“Baby, please.” Alarm instantly identifiable in her voice. That bloody Marino arrogance had her thinking I would wake up and fall into her arms. I want to. I want nothing more than to be wrapped up in her. But, I can’t.

I shake my head aggressively, nose scrunched up as I try to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall. “No! You hurt me!” I cry, my voice breaking. “You made me feel like…like you wanted me…and…and then you broke my heart.”

“I know, my darlin’. I’m so sorry. I do want you, baby. So much. Let me explain, please.”

“Get. Out.” I sob.

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