Page 93 of Giovanna

“I’m sure there is,” I reply coolly. “I shouldn’t have assumed that this would change anything. I’ll leave you to it then.”

I manage to hold onto my childish tears until after I’ve marched my bare arse out of there, but the minute I slam the door shut they fall.

Chapter Forty

Francesca

Massimo decides that after my traumatising experience last night - the knife incident, not the utter railing his sister gave me - we need to have a day by the pool. I haven’t told him about the night of perfect sex at all, yet. I don’t know if I can talk about it without getting upset.

So I act as if my morose mood is entirely down to the fact that a madman held a knife to my neck and threatened to kill me.

I choose to do my moping in the skimpiest bikini I own, purely in the hope that Giovanna has to walk past the pool at some point and is tortured at the sight of the body she will never touch again. Because she won’t.

Just like I cut off Elio after that first time, it looks like I’m doomed to only bang Marinos once. Not that what we did last night feels like ‘once’.

What hurts the most is that the intensity that I have always craved and never experienced was there last night. It’s not just that I have wanted her for so long, it is that we burn so bright and hot together. I’ve never wanted a middle-of-the-road relationship, but that is all I have had until now. If I were allowed to choose my husband or wife I would settle for nothing less than searing passion and utter obsession.

If I have to suffer then so does Giovanna. She may not feel our emotional connection, but I know she’s insanely physically attracted to me and this turquoise string bikini with g-string bottoms will punish her.

Massimo and I are playing the gimme-a-song game, but we are choosing for each other rather than for our own emotional state. He is making me laugh at least with his silly choices.

Pointing theatrically at me, Massimo hits play onGAY 4 MEby G Flip & Lauren Sanderson thinking he is torturing me about my crush on his sister and not my now-established unrequited feelings. We’re jumping on the outdoor furniture screaming out of tune and to be honest it is a bit cathartic.

“Take the verse, Cheska!” Massi bellows and I butcher all the lyrics except for the most relatable bit. The bit he naturally wants me to sing.

He roars with laughter as I rub my hands down my body, swivel my hips, and shout about how I know ‘she’ masturbates to thoughts of me.

I curtsey to his round of applause and he sings the chorus into his invisible microphone.

“Massimo!Porca puttana! Pull your fuckin’ head in,” Giovanna shouts from somewhere behind me and he quickly turns off the music.

I widen my eyes at him and whisper, “Ooooh you’re in trouble”.

“Francesca! A word please,” she marches inside without checking to see if I’m following.

“I thinkyou’rein trouble, actually,” Massi says in an exaggeratedly camp voice flicking his wrist.

Giovanna is waiting in the kitchen, leaning against the bench. Her fingers are drumming against the cabinet and she has a furious scowl on her face.

I feel a bit like a lamb going to the slaughter, except that for her I’d roast myself and slather my body in mint sauce.

“What are you wearing?” She snaps at me.Ding, ding, ding. Victory to me.

I look down at my bathers, turn to look at the pool, and then look back at her with an innocent expression. “A bikini?”

She narrows her eyes at me and the anger in them makes me regret playing this game. I’ve just set myself up to be reminded of how insignificant I am. She shakes her head and looks at the floor. “What are you doing, darlin’?”

“Don’t call me that,” I bite out before I can stop myself.

“Why? I always call you that?” she frowns.

“Yeah, well it hurts now, so stop it.” The game is well and truly over now. If I can get out of this conversation without crying it’ll be a miracle.

She pinches the bridge of her nose with her index and middle fingers as if to try to squeeze out the tension.

“Sorry for stressing you out. Last night was just…I’ll pretend it didn’t happen, okay? But can you leave me alone because I can’t - ” and my voice breaks. I shake my head, turning away before the tears fall, and get the hell out of there.

I’m nearly at the door when I hear a wolf whistle and Bluey’s voice calls out from the garage stairs, “damn Cheska! Elio’s a fuckin’ moron.”

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