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And oh, the way they just wouldn't stop staring and giggling as Lorenzo and I walked past them—-
"This is the last time you're walking me to class," I mutter under my breath.
"I see."
Oh, I so bet he does.
Or at least that was what I was thinking until I saw the impassive expression on my husband's face and realized he was right.
I am the idiot between us, and no, oh God, no.
Lorenzo stiffens when he realizes I'm fighting back tears. But when he starts to let go of my hand, I know exactly what he's thinking, and I tighten my grip and refuse to let go.
"Don't force yourself," he grits out.
Shame makes it so hard to speak. I hate how I've needlessly hurt him. But because I also know silence is going to hurt him more—-
"You got it all wrong," I whisper jerkily in Italian. "I want this to be the last time because I'm jealous."
My husband only stares at me.
"Non vedi come tutte le altre ragazze ti stanno guardando?" Can't you see how all the other girls are staring at you?"
But still, he stares, and I start feeling nervous and desperate. Have I hurt him so that he thinks I'm lying? What can I possibly do to—-mmph!
I'm suddenly in my husband's arms, and even though there are countless other students and faculty members around us, he's kissing me so wildly and hungrily that I just know I can't ever be jealous again.
Because this kiss?
It has the words 'I'm hers' written all over it, and by the time he lets me go, I'm just a complete mess, with how my lips feel so embarrassingly swollen even as my heart starts aching in the most unbearably sweet way.
Oh, Renzo.
I just know I'll dedicate a dozen pages to writing about this in my diary later.
"You're jealous," my husband suddenly says, and in a tone so guarded that it forces what few brain cells I have left to work overtime.
"Yes," I say finally. "I am."
I'm not sure why he needs to hear me say it.
I just know he does, and the moment I give him the words, it's like having the sun shine for me alone.
Oh, my love.
My husband's lips haven't moved at all, but it's those green eyes of his that say everything he has to say, and I really do think it's true.
Whether he likes it or not—-
I think we really are starting to fall in love.
Journal Entry
Foe and faux.
It's no coincidence they sound the same.
ONE OF THE PERKS OF owning a college was having an office of his own on campus, and it was here that he spent hours each day researching like mad.
