"Are you wet enough?" He questions with hooded eyes.
I nod curtly. "Only the sound of your voice and my pussy jumps in excitement."
"Good. Turn around." He orders as both hands grip my waist, flipping me around before I can argue. "Sit on it and go...
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I exhale a breath through my mouth as I come awake from an exhausting slumber. My eyes part open but remain in a narrowed slit as I gulp down my saliva to wet my throat.
My head is engulfed in a pang of pain as I attempt recalling the events of last night. "Matteo?" A whooshed whisper escapes my pained throat and I wince.
"Mrs. Denaro? I'm Beth, your nurse." She quickly checks my pulse and with a sigh of relief, she asks, "How do you feel?"
"Where's Matteo?" I throw a question right back at her, stammering and wincing through each word.
"Mr. Denaro is not here at the moment ma'am." She answers politely.
"Please call me Mirabella." The nurse—Beth—offers me a tight nod in agreement. "Did he come to see me? My husband I mean."
Her eyes light, her lips stretching into an ear to ear grin, "of course!" She excitedly squeal with a tiny jump.
Oh.
This one's a sucker for romance.
"He didn't leave your side even for a second." I look at her with narrowed eyes, confused as to why he chooses to be there when I'm unconscious but decides to disappear when I'm fully awake.
"He thought to go grab your favorite snacks so that you have something to eat once you're awake! Isn't that so cute?! I see how everyone in this house shit in their pants whenever he walks by but he's so soft for you."
Bitch shut the fuck up before I shove a grenade down your throat.
I roll my eyes.
As if on cue, Matteo walks in with a large food tray in hand but his movement is halted when both our eyes lock.
I prop myself up by my elbows, my mouth dropping open as I search for the right words to say. My eyes brim with tears and my lips become parched. "Matteo. . ." I unexpectedly whisper and Matteo's fists tighten around the food tray so tight that his knuckles pale.
He stares at me with all the wrong emotions; pity, confusion, regret, every emotion that I detest. But there's a glint of softness in his eyes. . .
"Matteo?" I call out again with my voice still in a whisper and a shuddered breath wracks through him as his hands tremble slightly.
Pablo walks in almost immediately and stands by a corner, observing the intense stare down battle going on between my husband and I.
"I'll take that." Pablo abruptly declares, taking the food tray from Matteo's hands with a nod of understanding.
"Matteo! Please don't go!" I scream after the retreating back of my husband. He doesn't want me anymore. He hates me. He's disgusted by me. I thrash my head and sob.
Why did I give him a chance?
Why did I let him in?
Now I'm hurting and he's nowhere to be seen but what is more painful is my inability to walk away from him; my inability to take my heart back.
