The View From Up Here

❥ prologue

I reached aimlessly for my fiancé through the thick blackness that encompassed our bedroom, but was met with only the sigh of the bedsheets once my hand collided with the mattress. I craned my neck upward, straining my eyes as I peered around the room.
"Gino?" I croaked. I rubbed the sleepiness from my eyes and pushed the comforter away.
"Go back to bed, love," came his soft reply from beside the window, "I'm only reading."
I huffed, rising anyway and padding towards him. He eyed me from above the rims of his glasses as I approached, snickering and shaking his head. I only grinned and leaned forward to pluck the book from his hands.
"It is the dead of night. Come and sleep, dear— your book will be here in the morning," I chuckled, reaching forth and taking his hands in mine. Beaming, he squeezed my hands and pulled me into his lap, pulling a quiet giggle from me. A pair of strong arms snaked around my waist.
"Giovanni!" I scolded halfheartedly. He smiled against my skin.
"I can't sleep, my love," he sighed, "If I could, you know I'd be cuddled in beside you by now."
"Indeed. And why not?"
"I just can't seem to quiet my mind. We're to be wed in a week. It's just..." His gaze found mine, and he reddened in the slightest. "It's just incredible. I'm so excited."
I couldn't stifle the smile that rose on my lips. I brushed a gentle palm against his cheek and basked in the glimmer in those unmistakable black eyes, pulling him in for a sweet kiss. Giovanni Moghalu would be the death of me, I was sure of it.
"I must be very lucky, then, to be marrying the most handsome man the world has ever known."
He laughed, reddening more. "And that must make me even luckier to be him."
   "Oh, hush, and come sleep, you sap," I giggled, standing reluctantly from his lap and pulling him up from the chair with me. He groaned playfully.
   "Well, if I must!"
   I led him to the bed and snuggled in again, peeking up from behind the mound of blankets to find him at the foot, relieving himself of his shirt. He caught me staring and grinned.
   "Enjoying yourself?" he teased.
   "I'm almost your wife, am I not allowed to admire you?"
   "You're the only one who is."
   "Hmp. As it should be."
   With that, he crawled into bed beside me, turning on his side so we were laying nose to nose. He wrapped his arms around me again as I splayed my hands against his chest, finding my way up to his collarbones, then his shoulders, then his neck. I ran my fingers along his jaw up to his ear, leaning up and bringing my lips to it. He shivered.
   "Goodnight, Gino," I whispered to him. He pulled me closer into his warmth, nuzzling his face into my neck.
   "Goodnight, Fia. I love you."
   My heart fluttered, then fell. "I love you, too."

   Even as this was true, I was filled with the kind of dread that could shake even the comfortable.
   I was, in fact, to marry Giovanni.
   But how would I ever tell him I was to be his husband, and not his wife?