Page 69 of My Sunfall

Don’t fall apart. Not here. Not where everyone can see me.

Lucas walks beside me with his hand on the small of my back, looking almost bored.

“Drink?” he asks softly, his voice smooth and back to normal.

“I—” My voice falters and I shake my head, trying to clear it, but it only makes the room spin. “I can’t—Lucas, I can’t—”

My chest is heaving, but no air comes in or out.

I can’t breathe. Panic claws at my throat, slowly, painfully constricting it, and tears sting my eyes. My heart is flailing helplessly in my chest.

Lucas’ hands dart up to grab my arms and he spins me to face him. His eyes scan my face and his jaw clenches. “Easy,” he says, and the concern in that single word makes my knees give way. “Breathe with me.” His voice orders from far away. I try to cling to it, but my gasps for breath become erratic as a band closes around my chest and my mind is shutting down.

“Please—” I gasp. “Home.”

He pulls me against him. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Before I can comprehend what he’s doing, he has gathered me up and is carrying me through the crowded room toward the exit. I bury my face in his chest and sob for air that won’t reach my lungs. I try to focus on something, anything else than the panic trying to claw its way out of me. The first thing I perceive are Lucas’ arms holding me. They are strong and warm as they are wrapped around me as if to shield me from the outside world. Then, I hear the beat of his heart against my ear, steady and powerful, the rhythm hypnotic and grounding. Finally, I register his cologne as air starts to find its way into my lungs again.

When we are outside, I take deep, uncontrolled gulps of air, until the haze shrouding me lifts and I notice that I am clinging to Lucas’ shirt like a lifeline.

Roberto opens the car door, and Lucas carefully settles me inside, then slides in after me. Once the car starts moving, he gathers me up in his arms again and settles me sideways on his lap. I can breathe almost normally again, and the band choking me has gradually loosened. He doesn’t speak, but his warm breath against my temple grounds me more than any word could. His arms are wrapped tightly around me, and it feels like he is holding me together as I sag against his chest, my body too boneless to hold up on its own.

The city lights blur past, but I barely notice, my face is buried in his neck, I breathe in his cologne and the scent of him underneath, and it brings me steadily back from the dark place I have been. The noise fades, the silence settles over us like a cocoon shielding me from the outside world. My mind revels in the blank space where only Lucas exists. I breathe him in, curling farther into the warmth of his body and his safe embrace.

After what feels like hours, the car drives into the garage in his villa, and Lucas gets out, pulling me after him. He leans down and picks me up and walks up the stairs. I am too worn out to resist. He carries me up to the suite and into the shower where he undresses me with infinite care. Then he undresses himself and ushers me into the shower to wash me slowly and tenderly, like something he’s afraid to break.

Later, when he lays me down on the bed and wraps his arms around me, it feels like his steady hands have reassembled all the loose pieces, reshaping me, making me whole again. Just before I fall asleep, the terrifying truth slips quietly through the cracks of my fractured psyche—he is the one putting me back together again every time I splinter. He is the place I feel safest, the haven where the storm settles. Despite everything, the possessiveness, the fake marriage, the war he keeps hanging over my head like a threat, I stupidly and irrevocably love him. I’ve never stopped loving him. I nearly sob from the staggering realization. My tears flow silently onto the pillows as I sink into nothingness.

Chapter Forty-Six

Chiara

This evening, I end up in the kitchen, drawn there by habit. Emma looks up from where she’s sorting produce at the counter, her hands pausing when she notices me hovering in the doorway.

“I was thinking I could cook tonight,” I say, forcing my voice to sound light.

She studies me for a long moment, then nods, the corners of her mouth lifting softly. “If it makes you feel more at home,” she says, stepping aside. “Just don’t burn my kitchen down.”

I laugh and assure her that I’ll try my best not to. Then I roll up my sleeves and chop vegetables, letting the rhythm steady me. The simple, ordinary sounds like the knife hitting the board, the hiss of oil in the pan, are grounding me, steadying my mind. I used to take all this for granted, back when my life was still my own. Cooking had soothed me, anchoring me in the present, reminding me that I can create something warm and real with my own hands. That I wasn’t that useless pawn my mother molded me into. I am more.

“You can be anything you want, love.” Lucas’ voice ghosts over my skin, making me shiver. He had suggested I pick up studies if I wanted. He had hired a Krav Maga instructor for me. “You have this strength in you. Let it out, cara mia.”

A couple weeks have gone by since the disastrous gala, and I am making steady progress during our sparring sessions. I even managed to overpower him a few times, and instead of being offended, he praised me, eyes gleaming with genuine pride and tenderness.

Lately, everything with Lucas feels…gentle. He is attentive, tender, lovi—

No! My thoughts come to a screeching halt. No, there is definitely not love on his side.

This marriage was born of necessity, of duty. It’s a temporary solution to a problem. A shield against an outside threat to the famiglia. One day, the reasons that bound us will disappear, and when they do, this, whatever this is, will come to an end. The realization tightens painfully in my chest. Because I’ve now come to peace with the certainty that I’m still loving him. No, that’s not quite accurate. I’m loving him deeper than before. And loving him like this feels like standing on thin ice. It’s beautiful, yet terrifying. Because it’s doomed to break beneath me someday.

I stir the sauce and breathe through the ache, pushing the feeling down. I am almost done when Lucas steps into the kitchen, face strained. But it softens immediately when he sees me. He quietly steps behind me and wraps his arms around me, brushing his lips over my temple. It reminds me of the time we lived in the small cottage and my heart squeezes painfully in my chest. But I won’t dwell, I’ll live every second for as long as it lasts, and when this is over, I’ll have beautiful memories to cling to. I am strong, I will stand up after it ends. I just need to survive the fall.

“It smells delicious, I’m ravenous,” Lucas rasps hotly in my ear, plastering himself to my back.

I smile. “Pasta al pomodoro,” I reply. “It’s almost done.”

“Mmh.” Lucas nuzzles my neck now, causing goosebumps to explode all over my skin. “The food smells not too bad, either.”