AllFreeNovel
Share Us
If Salvatore is telling the truth, and Pyotr really would have been awful to me, then I would have been in a bad situation no matter what. Maybe a worse one than this, if he’s to be believed. But no matter what, if that’s true, I would have left that altar facing an unhappy future. It feels almost soul-crushing to believe, to feel that my future was doomed regardless.
An emotionally unavailable husband who pretends he doesn’t want me to salve his own conscience, or a violent one. Neither are options I wanted, and neither is what I expected to get. It’s a hard thing, to think that I’m stuck between the past possibility of a cruel marriage, or my present situation of a marriage that’s cold and contentious by turns.
I catch a glimpse of Salvatore sitting out on the deck, what looks like a breakfast spread arranged next to one of the lounge chairs. The glass door leading out to the deck is open, letting the warm tropical breeze in, and I see Salvatore look up as I walk through the bedroom.
He stands, and I flinch, knowing he’s going to come and talk to me. I don’t have any idea what to say.
“Gia.” His voice is flat and neutral. Courteous, even, as he walks into the bedroom. “Are you finished in there?” He nods towards the bathroom.
I touch my wet hair self-consciously. “Um—yes. I was just going to let my hair air-dry.” The strangeness of the conversation strikes me instantly, discussing something so innocuous with a man who, moments ago, was grasping my chin in his fingers while he jerked off naked between my legs. It’s like he’s an entirely different person now, outside the grip of the lust he’s trying to suppress. It makes me wonder what he’d be like if he just let himself feel what he wants to feel.
“There’s still breakfast outside.” Salvatore gestures towards the deck. “I’m finished, feel free. The coffee should still be hot.”
“Thanks.” I bite my lip, unsure of what to say, but he doesn’t really give me a chance to say anything else. Instead, he strides to the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him. I think I hear it lock.
I go out to the deck, where an array of breakfast foods very similar to what was brought to me yesterday is laid out. I pour myself a cup of coffee and pick at some scrambled eggs, looking out towards the sandy beach beyond the rippling water. It seems like I’m going to have another day to myself, and the anticipation of that is enough to suppress the confused feelings tangling up in my chest.
Except—
I let myself imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like if Salvatore and I were behaving like a real couple on this “honeymoon.” I try to imagine him out here having breakfast with me, walking down to the beach together, strolling through the market. I imagine him buying me something because it caught his eye and made him think of me, sharing lunch and a drink in the open-air bar, splashing each other in the water. It’s hard to envision Salvatore enjoying himself so much.
Maybe that’s part of his problem. He’s been so focused on duty his whole life, he doesn’t know how to enjoy himself. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he felt that way about sex, too. If it’s always just been a means to an end for him, rather than something done in pursuit of hedonistic pleasure, and so he can’t fathom letting himself lose that much control.
I want to know what it feels like to lose myself in that kind of pleasure, to give myself completely over to my partner in bed. I want to discover all the things I’ve only ever read about or imagined, and I want to do them with someone who wants me. I don’t want to have to be half in and half out of my head the entire time, wondering what’s going through my husband’s mind while he works up the initiative to fuck me.
This isn’t fair. And at least Salvatore had a choice in the matter, even if he wants to act like he didn’t.
The door opens a little wider, and I turn to see Salvatore standing there, his wet, dark hair swept back, wearing his more relaxed “vacation” clothes. “I’ll be back this evening, Gia. Feel free to do whatever you like, as long as you have your security.”
“Okay.” I bite my lip, wondering why I feel the urge to ask the next question that slips out. I don’t really care, do I? “Why are you going somewhere to work? Can’t you just work here at the villa? It’s not like you need to meet anyone in person?—”
Salvatore frowns. For a brief second, I think he’s going to tell me it’s none of my business. But then he lifts one shoulder in a careless half-shrug. “Staff comes in and out of the villa during the day to clean and such. I rented a space where I can have privacy for meetings and work. There’s silence, a beautiful view, and I’ll be left alone.”
“So this isn’t a vacation for you.” I look at him curiously. “Did you ever intend on relaxing on this trip? Or was that all just made up to make me think that’s how it was going to go?”
He gives me an odd look. “Why do you care? It’s not as if you want to spend time with me.”
That makes me pause. The truth is, I don’t really know why I care, or why I asked. I don’t have an answer for him. Salvatore seems to realize that, because after a few beats of silence, he shrugs and turns away. “Enjoy your day, Gia,” he says flatly. “I’ll see you for dinner this evening.”
I watch him leave, hearing the sound of the front door shutting behind him. And once he’s gone, all that there’s left for me to do is finish my breakfast and head down to the beach.
—
At this point, checking out Blake’s surfing lessons is just a distraction. I slather on sunscreen, put on shorts and a patterned, fluttery crop top over my bathing suit, and start the trek toward the stretch of sand just beyond the bar where I met him yesterday. True to his word, I see a shack-like wooden stand with surfboards propped up against it, a small crowd made up of mostly women, and Blake standing behind the low wooden counter, shirtless and wearing only a pair of board shorts.
I try not to feel a flutter of jealousy at the idea that I’m far from the only woman he’s flirted with into coming down here, and that he’s clearly not hurting for attention—that I’m just one more in a sea of pretty, tanned, eager women waiting for him to look at them with those big blue eyes.
But the moment I approach the counter, his gaze immediately locks onto mine, and his mouth spreads into another of those wide, genuine smiles that I was the recipient of yesterday.
“Gia.” He steps away from the blonde talking to him, and walks towards where I’m standing, his gaze flitting over me with frank appreciation before he looks back up at my face. “I’m so glad you came. I wasn’t sure you would, actually.”
I want to ask him why that is, but I’m pretty sure I already know—he can’t have missed the name on the credit card I used yesterday. “I’ve never tried anything like this before. But it sounds like fun.”
“It’s a blast.” Blake grins. “Come on, I’ll get you signed up, and then we’ll all troop down to the water and get started.”
He hands me a piece of paper—just a waiver in case of injury and some basic information about myself. I fill it out quickly, hesitating only a moment over the spot for my name. I end up writing my maiden name, Gia D’Amelio, instead of my married one. It’s a tiny rebellion, but it feels like taking a small bit of my own agency back. I prefer the name my father gave me to the one that Salvatore did.
I leave my tote bag and sandals at the shack, curling my toes into the warm sand as I wait with the other women for directions. I can’t help but wonder what Vince and the rest of my security are thinking about this. I feel a small curl of unease in my stomach, wondering if Vince might call Salvatore and tell him. But I’m not doing anything wrong, I remind myself. I’m taking a surfing lesson—there’s nothing wrong with that. Just because the instructor happens to be handsome and flirtatious doesn’t mean that I’m committing some kind of sin.
