Page 22 of Always Meant To Be

First time….

I don’t react outwardly, while inside I’m confused, but I do as he says and eat what’s probably the best lasagna I’ve ever eaten. He tries to make conversation, asking how my day has been, asking about the kids, heck he even brought up the school fair next week. And then he asked about Andrei’s little girl and his wife, and if he likes retirement, but I don’t talk reply. I can’t.

Yes, he made me this amazing food and was here when I got home, but that doesn’t negate all the time he’s spent with her, his true betrothed, over the years, leaving me alone.

It doesn’t negate that he had her in our home only a few hours ago.

“Mamma popped around this afternoon,” Romeo states as he cleans up our plates. I look at him. He smiles, placing my favorite chocolate fudge cake before me, and I smile a little. “She thought you might like this,” he says.

I nod. “I’ll call her tomorrow and thank her.”

He hums and admits, “I think she’d like that.” He puts his plate beside mine, then rounds the bar, stopping behind me, and says, “She also wanted you to have this, and asked for you never to take it off.”

He raises his arms in front of me, a silver chain dangling from his fingers, a blue gem glittering under the kitchen lights. My breath stutters as he places the chain around my neck, before letting it fall.

The gem feels heavy against my chest despite being no bigger than a dime, but my God, it is beautiful.

“It’s a family heirloom, passed down through my father’s side. My grandmother gave it to my mother after she was wed to my father for four years, and my mother is now giving it to you. If we have a son and he marries, it’ll go to his wife, and so on. It’s something that is to be worn at all times, showing the world and the underworld that not only are you my wife, but you are also seen as part of the family.”

He gently squeezes my shoulders as I hold the gem between my fingers, and then I feel his lips on the top of my head, causing me to close my eyes. For a moment, a split second, I allow myself to believe this is how we are all the time.

I allow myself to believe that he loves me, that I’m his everything, and no one else matters.

But then he and my sister from that photo pop up, and everything dims again, and I silently curse my stupid heart.

Why couldn’t I have fallen for a normal person?

An hour later, after a tense dessert during which I refused to speak to my husband, I left him to clean up, and head for the shower.

Alise accidentally dropped glitter in my hair when she tripped over Janie’s bag, which I don’t think Romeo noticed.

I ignore everything around me, my mind going a million miles per hour, and head to the bathroom, my fingers playing with the gem from Mamma Russo.

I understood what Romeo was saying. His family sees me as one of them. I’m no longer a Mikhailov; I’m a Russo, because we’re still together after four years. But don’t they realize that’s only because I refuse to bring a baby into a one-sided marriage?

Blinking to try and control my tears, I turn the shower on, strip, and climb in.

I walk straight into the spray, my eyes closed, my face lifted. The warm water covers me, washing the day and, hopefully, the glitter away.

Although it may help if I remove my hair clip.

After a few moments of enjoying the heat, I feel the coldness on my back, and I know Romeo has joined me.

I try not to tense when I feel his front to my back, his body warming mine.

He unclips my hair very gently, allowing it to cascade down my back, before he moves it to one side, his lips going to my neck.

My body tingles with his touch, and I instantly hate myself for it.

“I must admit, the first time I saw your hair down, I was mesmerized, butfarfalla, I think the glitter is a bit too much,” he whispers against my skin.

“A student tripped,” I admit, and he hums, gently bringing his hands up to cup my suddenly heavy breasts, his thumb and finger pinching my nipples, tugging on them.

I feel him bend a little, his knee forcing my legs apart before the tip of his member hits my entrance, and in one full thrust, he enters me, filling me.

I gasp, my hands slapping against the shower wall for balance as he thrusts hard as he keeps his rhythm slow, his fingers paying extra attention to my nipples.

I allow the pleasure to take hold, allowing him to use me and my body, refusing for my mind to wonder if he showered after seeing her, knowing I'll go dry instantly, and he'll know something is up.