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At all.
Dammit.
Lorenzo went on cursing his majordomo even as he dressed himself in haste. The old man was no liar, and Teo would make good his threat if Lorenzo were to come down one second too late.
The dining room was ablaze with lights when Lorenzo came down, and unfortunately, all of those lights came from dozens of fucking candles.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
Teo nodded in satisfaction. "I thought so, too."
The door to the dining room swung open, and Teo's grandson came rushing in.
"Just in time," the older man said. "Give the flowers to el signore, Migo."
The teenage boy cheerfully handed over his cargo, and it was only to avoid accidentally hurting Migo's feelings that Lorenzo reluctantly found himself holding a bouquet of red fucking roses.
"Congratulations on your wedding, signore."
Lorenzo managed a tight-lipped smile. "Grazie."
Teo checked his watch. "Your wife should be coming down at any moment. We'll give you a few minutes of privacy before serving the first course."
Lorenzo didn't really hear what the older man had said nor was he was aware when grandfather and grandson quietly slipped away.
Instead, his mind was entirely focused on the flowers he was holding. Was he really going to give this to his wife? What if she thought this was an attempt to seduce her? He had promised he would keep her safe, dammit. He couldn't—-
"Oh!"
—-throw the fucking flowers away, since it was already too late.
His wife stood by the doorway, a stunning vision in ivory silk, hands over her mouth in shock.
Journal Entry
Can a man who's made of stone still grow a heart of gold?
I'M OKAY WITH A SEXLESS marriage.
I'm not okay with a sexless marriage.
I'm okay with a sexless marriage.
I'm not—-oh, Lord, why am I even wasting my time picking petals off a virtual forget-me-not flower?
I toss my phone away in a fit of frustration, and it bounces silently on the padded cushion of the divan behind me.
Lorenzo's parting words have made rest impossible. It's already been hours, and I still can't get them out of my head.
Or figure out how I feel about it.
Even worse, his staff says I'm to dress up for dinner, but they obviously don't know their beloved master has just told me I'll only be his wife in name.
I gnaw on my lip as I stare at the selection of dresses his staff has already hung neatly in my closet.
If I dress up, but he actually doesn't want me as his wife, wouldn't that make me pathetic?
But on the other hand...
