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When I don’t answer right away, because I’m still thinking about it, he decides that my silence is my response. I feel the shift in his demeanor.
And you promised not to scare me—but here we are. Although I’m not scared. I’m just pissed we’re having this conversation. I don’t know if I would have told him. It’s not a simple question.
“Do you remember that promise, Angel?”
“Don’t be so literal. Surely you won’t expect me to tell you what’s in the boxes under the Christmas tree. Because I won’t. You’ll need to wait until Santa comes down the chimney like everyone else.”
“Gifts aren’t secrets. They’re surprises.”
God, he’s annoying.
“You might be entitled to my secrets, but not to anyone else’s.”
“Valentina’s not just anyone.”
“No. She’s not. She’s like my sister, and for some reason she didn’t see fit to tell me that she was struggling with anxiety. Maybe she thought I was going to blab to you.” I move back, but this time I cross the room, putting plenty of space between us.
“I don’t want to fight,” he says quietly, following me. “You’re a good friend to her. The best. I’m happy she has you.”
He knows I’m hurt that she didn’t confide in me, and he’s being gentle. This is why it’s hard to stay annoyed with him for any length of time.
“She made it through today because of you,” he adds, running his fingers through my hair.
Not just me…you, too. I don’t say it because I’m still feeling churlish.
“Everyone stepped up. Even Marco was very supportive of her. He has been the entire trip.”
“Especially the other day when he didn’t show up at the party at Antonio and Daniela’s. But I guess that doesn’t count because it was the night before we left.”
He can’t talk about Marco without at least one biting remark.
“He didn’t go to the party because she’s been so stressed about the two of you crossing paths. He wanted to make it easier on her.”
“Did he tell you that too?” he asks, much too carefully.
“He did.”
“I’m tired of talking about that feckless pussy.”
He takes my arm as he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me onto his lap, but I’m not feeling it. I understand that he wants me to take his side over Marco’s, every time. It’s childish, but I get it. What I don’t like is his attitude about secrets, and I’m not ready to let it go.
“I don’t know whether I would have shared the information about Valentina’s mental health with you, unless things were out of control. But I stand by what I said earlier. You’re not entitled to other people’s secrets.”
“Is that so?” He nudges my thighs apart before gliding his fingers over my pussy.
My lace panties are the only thing separating us. Small zings of pleasure are already starting, but I won’t let it distract me. That’s what he wants.
“And not just other people. I’m also entitled to some privacy. You don’t need to know every time I fart.”
He pulls his head back, but his fingers don’t still. “You fart?” His nose is scrunched. “If I had known sooner, I would have never gotten involved with you.”
I slap him on the arm.
“And you’re not entitled to know my every thought, just like I’m not entitled to know yours. It has nothing to do with honesty or loyalty.”
Rafa’s fingers are magic, and I squirm on his lap, while he works the churlishness out of me.
“I don’t entirely agree, but you can stop now.” He presses a kiss to my hair. “You made your point.”
