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“There’s a pool at the mansion,” Gia points out. “An indoor, heated one, too, for the winter months.”
“That doesn’t mean I’ve ever used it.” It occurs to me as I say it how much I really don’t ever take advantage of the luxuries that my life offers me—or take all that much pleasure in the ones that I do indulge in. I eat the finest foods available and dress in tailored, bespoke clothing, with the best liquor I could ask for delivered to my mansion. Every indulgence or form of entertainment I might want is available to me, but I don’t enjoy it the way I should. I’ve been so focused on work, on serving Enzo for so much of my life, that I’ve taken for granted the things around me that enhance my life so much.
In that way, I realize, my marriage to Gia could be good for me. She clearly has no intention of giving up on the things that she enjoys about life and, given the opportunity, will indulge in any new experience offered to her.
It’s one of the things that makes me feel sometimes dangerously close to feeling more for her than I planned, or than I feel I should.
I grab a pair of swim shorts, going into the bathroom to change while Gia pulls one of her sundresses out of the wardrobe. It’s odd—I’ve been physically intimate with her, been inside of her, the first man to ever do so…and yet, I feel uncomfortable undressing in front of her. Doing so casually feels like a greater level of intimacy, even though it’s a perfectly natural thing to do in front of my wife.
When I come back out, Gia has a white sundress on, a pretty lightweight thing made out of a gauzy material with a halter neck and a lacy hem. I hesitate, remembering the gifts I bought her yesterday. When I’d seen her at the bar with Blake, I’d had half a mind to throw them in the damn ocean, after what she did. A part of me doesn’t think she deserves gifts after flirting with another man.
And part of me accepts that regardless of whether or not her behavior was acceptable, it was because of the circumstances of our relationship. Circumstances that I’ve created.
I can, at least, accept that holding grudges won’t help us move forward.
I walk over to the chair that the pair of pants I wore yesterday are draped over. The cleaning staff hasn’t been here yet since yesterday afternoon, so no one has cleaned up the dirty clothes, thank goodness. The boxes are still in the pocket, and I slip them out, turning to Gia.
“I have something for you.” I sink down on the edge of the bed, holding out the two small boxes to her.
She blinks at me, startled. “You bought me something?”
I nod. “I went out at lunch yesterday to find a gift for you.” I take a deep breath, trying to think of how to explain how I felt yesterday, before everything blew apart. “I know I’m not making you happy, Gia. But gifts seem to make you happy, and so I?—”
The look on her face makes me break off abruptly. “I’m not saying you’re spoiled,” I add quickly. “I’m saying I know that you like pretty things, and when I gave you those onyx earrings to wear with your dress for dinner, I noticed you wore them a few more times. So I thought—” I let out a sharp breath. “These are for you.”
Gingerly, Gia takes the boxes out of my hands. She sets the smaller one on the dresser, lifting the top off of the longer one first. When she sees the bracelet nestled inside, I see her eyes go wide.
“Oh,” she says softly. “It’s beautiful.”
“You think so?” I let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t really know how to pick these things. I’ve never shopped for a woman other than you.”
Gia looks up at me, a small frown on her lips. “No? You’ve never bought anyone else gifts?”
I shake my head, feeling vaguely uncomfortable with the line of questioning. I hadn’t really expected to talk to Gia about any other women. “I had an assistant send flowers in the past,” I say finally. “But I’ve never been with anyone long enough to think about getting them anything fancier than that.”
Gia nods, as if she’s not entirely sure what to say. But she reaches down, gently taking the bracelet out of the box. “Here.” She holds out her wrist. “Put it on me?”
I feel her shiver, ever so slightly, when I touch her skin. Her wrist feels delicate, almost fragile in my fingers, and I’m struck with that urge to protect her all over again. She’s stronger than she looks, I know that, but she feels so breakable like this. It makes me want to hold her close, to promise her that I’ll protect her from any harm.
But I’ve promised her that already, and it hasn’t been enough. It’s not what she needs, not really. Or maybe it’s what she needs—but it’s not what she wants. What she wants from a husband—from me—is much more complex and harder to give than something as simple as protection.
Gently, I clasp the bracelet around her wrist. She glances at the other box and reaches for it, smiling when she sees the earrings. “These are beautiful, too,” she says softly. “You definitely know my taste in jewelry.”
“I guessed,” I admit. “I’m not entirely sure what your taste is, yet. But if I keep buying you gifts, I’ll learn.”
Gia laughs. “I like the sound of that. Are you ready to go?”
She’s not wearing any makeup, her hair loose, the dress floating just above her knees. She slips on a pair of flat leather sandals, and glances back at me. She looks astonishingly beautiful like this, naturally lovely. To me, she looks even more beautiful than she did on her wedding day, in a gown of lace and silk with her hair and makeup perfectly done.
I take a breath. “Let’s go.”
It’s hard to turn the part of my mind off that’s always attuned to what needs to be done—to calls that need to be made, meetings that need to be arranged, business that needs to be handled, and bribes that need to be meted out, warnings that need to be delivered. There’s more to this life than sitting behind a desk with a glass of cognac while my men handle things. After decades of this, I’m so accustomed to it that forcing those thoughts out of my head feels unnatural. But I put my phone on silent as per Gia’s request, shoving it into my pocket and following her out of the villa with our security in tow.
The day is beautiful. Warm—just this side of hot, actually—the sun shimmering off of the water and a faint breeze carrying the scent of salt and easing the sharp sting of the sun. Gia leads the way, taking me to the open-air market that she said she visited on her first day. It’s bustling with tourists, and I feel my muscles tense at first, looking around for signs of danger, and to make sure that the security is watching us. I catch a glimpse of Vince melting into the crowd, and I try to relax, but it’s difficult.
And then, I nearly jump as I feel Gia’s fingers slip through mine. I glance over at her, and see her looking up at me with a wry smile on her face.
“It’s fine,” she says gently. “We’re not in any danger here, Salvatore. I’ve been out every day since we came here, and I haven’t had any trouble at all. Has Vince told you there was any trouble that I didn’t know about?”
