It was the middle of August, and I was in Milan to organise Ethan and Laura's wedding. I was almost 9 months pregnant, yet I did everything as if I was without a belly of the size of a globe on my body. Those last few months were spent resting, designing many clothes in bed. I had numerous sketches of wedding dresses on my bedside table, especially when I went on holiday to Puglia with my sister and family. My skin was tan, my hair was blonde like it had never been, my hips wide. I had that pregnant glow, once again.
Laura's dress went from thoughts to sketches when I saw a picture of Vivienne Westwood's summer collection from the last century. She wanted a vintage styled dress, with some sparkly touches and satin, but light blue and inspired by dresses like Victoria Beckham's and Elizabeth Taylor's. It was an idea she really liked, but didn't know how to pull together. I spent days and days in the middle of two countries to analyse fabrics, tones and tries of visual drafts at Prada HQ, and 1 month after I delivered the final design. Seeing her in that dress reminded me of when I wore mine for the first time. It's an inexplicable feeling. I didn't know if I was going to be pregnant or not, so I had to create 2 different dresses for myself. In the media they were already suspicious of my pregnancy, so I wasn't going to wear something that didn't highlight it, not least because the ceremony and party were going to be very private.
Within that month everything was already organised, after an almost premature birth left us distressed. Cradle, changing table, nappies, clothes, shoes and toys were piled up in the basement of my sister's house, waiting for the hour to be assembled on a. While bigger space. In Rome, Dam assembled the furniture that belonged to Angel in my house there. She would live between Italy and Denmark, at least for a few months. And if I was to return to the stage 2 months after her birth, there had to be someone responsible to look after her while we bounced around between countries. Another novelty that was going to take me away from home was my design line. I had been offered a contract to do 2 collections for Prada in 2 years, to make my debut as a stylist. I hated that, not being the mother I could be if I didn't have fame. But I was already aware of that from the first positive test, that nothing was going to be the same after her.
I was in my hotel room, getting ready to catch a flight home. By that point, my work in Milan was done, and I had seen many of my friends. I received many gifts, much love. A peculiar pain in my ribs bothered me, so I was advised to rest before going to the airport. If on other occasions I did not follow the doctors' orders, now I was very obedient. I wore a long black skirt with a shirt of the same colour, and burgundy Docs. My hair was almost always divided into two braids, for practicality's sake. Lying on my bed, I thought about him, about Dam. Of the things that had happened in those past weeks, of his insistence, of my submissiveness, of my obedience. Of how many times he would take off my clothes and stay in and out of me and I was begging for more. I wondered why I was like this, so easy for him, so difficult for others. Why I didn't see him like Dam before. Why I didn't love him like I used to. And I blamed myself so much for that, for not loving. For not seeing him as a husband but an affair. My mobile phone which was charging started bursted with notifications. Phone calls, messages, comments, everything. It was a matter of seconds before I found out what everybody already knew.
"Damiano David, possible father-to-be (or not), at a party in an Italian nightclub with French model Dominique Martin."
"The affair began a few months ago, shortly after the end of their honeymoon."
"Rumour has it that Dominique frequents the motel that Damiano usually goes to."
"And now? Is another baby coming?"
"Victoria should keep a closer eye on it."
Idiot.
-
hello guys! ~
This was a little chapter just to complement the story, but I hope y'all liked it. I cannot wait to you guys to see the next volumes of this story.
love,
mel.
YOU ARE READING
GOLDWING (ing version)
Fanfiction"You know, falling in love with a person you have no intentions of falling in love with is one of the most genuine forms of 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 I've ever known, and also the most painful." - a completely fictional story, not intended to disrespect the people i...
