Page 63 of The Fixer
I give her a baleful stare. “I didn’t sleep because Leo had bad dreams all night long. He’s been having them fordays. Forget last night; I can’t remember the last time I got eight hours of sleep.”
“Ah.” She pats my hand consolingly. “That’s not really surprising with your wedding coming close, is it? After what happened at the first one, I don’t blame him.” She pours me a cup of coffee. “You must be patient with him, my dear. He was badly traumatized by what happened, and I don’t think he’s ever fully recovered. All those old feelings will be coming to the foreground in the run up to your wedding, but once the big day is over and everything goes off without a hitch, I’m sure he’ll settle down.”
After what happened at the first one.
I freeze, ice trickling down my spine. Leo was married before? He’s never mentioned it to me. That’s a pretty pertinent piece of information. Business arrangement or not, he should have told me.
Why didn’t he? Why did he hide this marriage from me?
And if he was capable of keeping this secret, what else is he concealing from me?
I force myself to smile at Annalisa and pretendlike everything’s okay. I make myself take a sip of the coffee in my hand. “You’re right,” I say lightly. “Wedding jitters. It’ll pass.” I move toward the back on wooden feet. “It’s almost time to open. Why don’t you manage the front while I iron the new stock?”
That night, when Leo wakes up with a muffled scream and swings out of bed, I join him in the kitchen, as usual. I make a pot of jasmine tea while Leo rummages in the refrigerator for a snack. Our usual routine. “Lemongrass beef and rice?” he asks, holding up our dinner leftovers. “Or do you want a biscotti instead?”
“I’m not hungry,” I say quietly. “Do you want to talk about your dream?” I cross my fingers under the table, a silent plea in my heart.Please let me in, Leo. Please tell me what’s going on with you. Please let me help.
His gaze slides away from me. “Oh, it was nothing important. I was being attacked by zombies.” He smiles ruefully. “I’m wrecking your sleep, aren’t I? I’m sorry, principessa. I should have known better than to watch that movie before bed.” He puts a biscotti in front of me. “It’s lemon pistachio,” he says. “Your favorite kind.”
He just lied to me. It hits hard. I bury my head in my cup so he can’t see the tears in my eyes. He won’ttell me he’s been married before. I don’t know why his marriage ended, but from what Annalisa implied, it was traumatic and the reason for his nightmares. But I’m only guessing because Leo won’t tell me anything that matters.
And I’m supposed to sit here and pretend that everything is okay.
I can’t do it. Not tonight. I fake a yawn. “I think I’m going to bed.” I get up and brush a kiss over his cheek. His familiar scent of sandalwood and pine drifts over my senses, and it just intensifies the ache in my heart. “I’ll see you upstairs.”
I hesitate at the top of the stairs. If I turn left, I’ll be at my old bedroom. The mattress has been replaced, and the bed is all made up. I should sleep alone. Let him figure out why I’m mad with him.
But big and dramatic gestures aren’t my thing, and I don’t want to fight with Leo. I turn right, enter his bedroom, and settle on my side of the bed. Leo comes upstairs a few minutes later. The mattress shifts with his weight, and then he puts his arm around me. “Rosa?”
It’s an invitation, one I’ve taken every time he offers it. Any other day, I’d turn around and kiss him. He’d tell me I’m wearing too many clothes, and I’dchallenge him to do something about it. And we’d end up making hot, passionate love.
But tonight, I close my eyes and pretend I’m asleep. And because I have my back to him, he can’t see the tears that roll unchecked down my cheeks.
31
LEO
Do I notice that Rosa is awake?
Yes.
Do I know she’s pretending to be asleep?
Yes.
Does it send a quiver of fear through me?
Of course it does.
You’re being dramatic,I tell myself. She’s tired, that’s all. My relentless nightmares have been waking her up every single night. She just needs rest.
But as the days count down to our wedding, I become afraid. Everything starts to fall apart. We still sleep together, but Rosa has stopped initiating sex. When I kiss her, she kisses me back. When I part her legs and rest my thumb on her clit, she stillmoans deep in her throat, her eyes glazed. She gives every sign that she’s enjoying herself in bed.
But she doesn’t give me a coy look through her eyelashes and ask me if I want to sexy wrestle. She doesn’t grab my arm as I walk by and drag me down for a kiss. She doesn’t pull me into a room, unbuckle my belt, drag down my pants, and give me the hottest blowjob of my life.
And God, I miss it.
There are a thousand reasons for her behavior. She is extremely busy. This week alone, she had three wedding dresses to finish and seven fitting appointments, each taking more than two hours. This work is in addition to running her boutique, ordering stock, and making payroll. Then there’s the sample portfolio she’s sewing for Milan Fashion Week. She’s only allowed to show eight pieces, and each of them needs to be of the highest quality to satisfy the committee that she has what it takes to participate in the prestigious event. All of thisplusour own wedding? She’s being run ragged, and it’s not a surprise she isn’t in the mood to initiate sex. Who would be, under the circumstances?