Chapter 12

Salvatore

I wake up startled, the sound of pounding on the door all I can hear. Disoriented, I look around and see myself wrapped in Salvatore's huge arms. I fell asleep on the couch last night, so why am I here? Ignoring the pounding and the faint sound of my mother's shouts, I shake Salvatore awake.

"Why did you carry me here?" I hiss at him, trying to untangle myself from his grip.

In one swift move, he maneuvers me so that I’m lying down beneath him, his weight pressing down on me.

His eyes darken as he leans in, his voice a rough whisper. "You’re no stranger to this bed. It knows your sweat, your essence, just like I do. You belong in it, with me."

Before I can retort, the door to our bedroom slams open. Lucia stands there, her face turning bright red as she takes in the scene. She quickly turns her back to us, apologizing for barging in.

"Mrs. Agosti, I’m sorry to interrupt, but your mother is outside. She seems rather... urgent. Should I let her in?" Lucia’s voice trembles slightly.

My heart drops to my stomach. I don't have the energy for her.

Just as I’m about to tell Lucia no, Salvatore growls, "She better not think she's going to talk to my wife the way she's screaming now." He gets up, throwing on a pair of grey sweatpants, and marches toward the front door.

I leap out of bed, chasing after him. When he opens the door, my mother pushes him aside. She reaches out to me, gasping.

"What have you done?" she shouts, her voice shrill.

She grips my hair, yanking it around, inspecting it. "How ugly it is! You should have bleached it."

Her hands move down, pinching my thighs through my silk shorts. "Good lord, it's not enough that you haven't visited me in weeks! It looks like you haven't visited the gym either."

She continuous to throw insults at me while I just stare at her. "When I saw those disgusting pictures of you from last night, I knew someone needed to put you back in your place. You looked like a slut in that dress, cheap!"

“Maria," Salvatore booms. "Get your hands off her." His voice is so loud that my mother covers her ears, leaping off me like she’s on fire.

Salvatore's glare is intense as he corners her, and she backs away, fear evident in her eyes. "No one talks to my wife like that," he grits out.

My mother stutters, trying to regain her composure. "This is an issue between a mother and a daughter. You shouldn't intervene."

Salvatore steps closer, his presence overwhelming. "Intervene? You think I'm just going to stand by and let you treat her like this? You have no right to belittle her, to tear her down."

My mother stammers, "I...I was only trying to help."

"Help?" Salvatore looks dangerous. "By insulting her? By hurting her? That's not help, Maria. That's degrading. I demand that every being in this universe respect my wife, or else there will be consequences."

My mother looks between us, her face pale. "You can't mean that..."

Salvatore gets right in her face, his eyes blazing with fury. "No one disrespects Salvatore Agosti's wife, especially not in front of him."

He grabs her arm, yanking her to face me. "Apologize," he roars.

"Sorry," she stutters.

His grip tightens, causing his huge biceps to flex. "If I get wind of you talking to her like that ever again, you won't like what I will do, Maria."

She nods, ripping her arm out of his grasp and rushing towards the door. "I can tell I'm not welcome here," she spits out.

As she leaves, Salvatore watches her go, his chest heaving with barely contained rage. He then turns to me, his eyes softening slightly as they meet mine.

I stand there, still and motionless, shock and anger battling inside me. After a moment, I snap out of it. "I'm going back to bed," I excuse myself, not wanting him to see how much my mother affects me.

He walks up to me, caressing my cheek gently. "Let it go," he whispers.

I look at him, confused. "Let what go? I'm going to go wash up."

"Baby, let it go," he repeats.

"Let what go, for God's sake? I don't understand you," I shake my head.

He hugs me tightly, whispering, "My beautiful wife, let it all go."

It’s then that the dam breaks. I sob uncontrollably, crying my eyes out, all the pent-up pain pouring out of me. He pats my back and kisses my forehead. God, I needed this, even if it came from someone I still didn’t forgive.

He rubs a strand of my hair between his thumb and forefinger, his touch gentle. “I noticed,” he murmurs.

“Noticed what?” I ask between sobs.

“Your hair. I notice everything about you. You’re the most beautiful creature to have walked this earth. I haven’t been to the heavens, and I doubt I will end up there, but I’m certain you’re the most beautiful creature there too.”

I giggle at his sappiness, the sound incongruous with my tears. Then, his expression turns serious. “How long has this been going on, Serena?” he asks roughly, almost with anguish.

“Since the moment I opened my eyes to the world,” I blurt out.

I haven’t forgiven him yet, I swear I haven’t. But I need to let this out somewhere. “Nothing I wore was pretty enough, no matter how much I worked out, I didn’t burn enough calories. No matter how much I studied, I was never smart enough.”

The muscles in his jaw tightens with every word. “I’m so sorry," he tells me.

I confess to him about how I started cutting back on calories when I was fourteen. “Even when I was on a bed with an IV drip, my mother complained that even though I was skinny enough, my breasts were too flat then.” I chuckle bitterly. “I recovered when I was eighteen, but every now and again, it creeps back up.”

His eyes widen in horror. “Did you ever relapse while we were together?” he demands, his voice tight.

I don’t answer, but my silence is enough.

His hands tighten on my arms. “Serena, answer me,” he growls.

“Yes,” I finally admit, my voice barely audible. “There were times when I slipped. When the pressure became too much.”

“I didn’t know. God, Serena, I didn’t know.”

I look away, unable to meet his gaze. “I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“No,” he says fiercely, his hands cupping my face, forcing me to look at him. “You don’t carry this alone.”

“I’ll protect you from everything, even yourself if I have to.” he promises me.

He starts kissing me all over. He kisses my eyes, whispering, "I love your baby blue eyes."

Wait a second… He loves?

He kisses my lips, murmuring against them, "I love the taste of these lips."

He kisses my chest, "I love these, big or small, just because they’re attached to you."

He kisses my stomach. "I love this, how it will bear my children one day." My breath catches in my throat at his words. I’m on birth control, we both agreed to have kids at a later time in our marriage.

Salvatore always told me that he wanted to have kids, but he knew how important my education is to me, so he agreed to give me time until I’m ready. Seems like that time is running out.

He moves lower, kissing my pussy over my shorts. "This owns me,"

He kisses my thighs, his hands caressing them gently. "I love these wrapping around me," he says.

He straightens up, his chest is heaving. He looks like he’s on the verge of a panic attack. He grounds out, his voice raw, "And I love you."

“I love you, Serena," he repeats. "I love you so much it scares me."

I wait for the warm rush to go through me, to feel relieved, to feel happy. But all I feel is rage. It’s like a fire igniting within me, consuming every ounce of the tenderness his words should have brought.

I can’t explain my feelings, can’t understand why, but the fury is undeniable. I wanted to hear those words for so long, but none of the feelings I expected to have actually came.

I push him away, my voice trembling with the force of my emotions. "Too little, too late," I rasp, giving him my back and walking away. I hear him call my name, but I don’t turn around. I can’t. If I do, I might shatter completely.