I tossed the black dress aside and sat upright. “He’s a walking book boyfriend, just like your hubby.” I fake-pouted and crossed my legs, the pain horrendous between my thighs. Chiara had been sleeping in her travel crib by my bed in Natalia’s guest room, so I was wound up tight without relief. My last orgasm had been in Long Island the night before hell broke loose.
Natalia smoothed a hand over her stomach. She was in a cute baby-blue dress with a bow beneath her breasts. “I really do think his request to do all of this is sweet and poetic. He wants to give your story a better beginning. And surely now that things are settled and the paint is dry on the whole mafia thing . . .” She wrinkled her nose. “Bad analogy, but the point is, I think enough time has passed, and he’ll take things to the next level.” She lifted one shoulder. “He is a chef, surely he knows how to turn up the heat.”
“Oh, he does. And he has been. For four weeks, but without getting me off,” I teasingly wailed, testing my drama skills. And yeah, they still sucked.
One thing I hadn’t been able to hide from Enzo: the nightmares. When he’d pressed for me to share, worried I was dreaming about him taking lives, I finally admitted they weren’t about him.
No, they were about Alice holding a knife over me by the bed. But I always woke up right before she could stab me.
Enzo had refused to take no as an answer when suggesting therapy. I’d told him I’d go if he agreed to see someone as well.
“I’ll do anything for you,” he’d said during our talk two weeks ago, holding my shoulders. “So yeah, if you’ll only go if I do, then yes.”
I’d had my fourth visit with the doctor last Friday and quickly realized I had a lot more to talk about than just Alice. Like the fact I’d ever let my mom pressure me into marrying Thomas in the first place. My doubts and insecurities about being a single mom. And on and on and on.
“I need to get out of your hair and move out,” I said as she grabbed the black dress.
“Oh, please. I love having you here.”
“I just don’t want to go to Mom and Dad’s, and why bother getting my own place when my hope is Enzo and I will move in together soon? At this rate, it’ll be forever before I move out.”
“Now that you don’t need to live in Uptown by Thomas, when that day comes, you and Enzo can get a home near us.”
Not that I’d seen Thomas since that horrific day last month, but he was back home and on an electronic ankle bracelet courtesy of the Feds. He was waiting to face a judge, where he’d plead guilty in exchange for a reduced sentence. Guilty for taking $50,000 from Alice to help them out.
“You think you’ll ever let him see Chiara again?” she asked, and I was surprised she hadn’t broached the subject sooner. “You think Thomas was telling the truth and he didn’t know the real plan?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” And that was another topic of conversation to tackle with the therapist. “But he won’t be seeing Chiara anytime soon. He doesn’t deserve to.”
“You’ll do what’s best, I know you.” She held the dress against her body, her cute belly popping out. She was nearly eight months pregnant now and their son was due mid-December. An early Christmas present.
“I’m honestly happy to have you here, though. Wish it was for a different reason, but still.”
“Me too.”
“And you’re at the other side of the house, so it’s not like I have to cover my face with a pillow during sex so you don’t hear me.” She shot me a funny look. “You don’t hear me, right?”
“Still getting some at eight months, huh?” I playfully waggled my brows. “Good for you, Mama.”
“Almost Mama.” She handed me the dress, lifting her chin to let me know to wear this one tonight. “Did Enzo text yet? Is he back from New York?”
He’d flown home early that morning, but he’d promised he’d be back in time for a late dinner. “He texted thirty minutes ago his plane had landed, and after a shower, he’ll be here to pick me up.”
“He say why he had to go?” she asked as I swapped my sweatpants and tee for the black dress and zipped it up.
“No, and I didn’t ask. I figure he’ll tell me if I need to know.” I studied myself in the mirror over the dresser. Enzo would have an excellent view of my breasts, and with any hope, his control would snap. “I kind of hate the fact that man has more restraint than I do. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”