Tangled In Strings

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"Cold feet?"

I tear my eyes from the glorious view of the massive falls down below the hotel. He exhales when I shake my head, tilting my head to my shoulder. Our cheeks press, and his arms tighten.

"Scared?"

It takes me a moment to nod, unsure if I want to be truthful with him on this subject. Last thing I want is to make him rethink all of this, or to think I'm rethinking all of this.

"I know what marriage means to you, Scarlett. I wouldn't have brought you all this way if I wasn't sure I could change your mind on it. If I know anything about myself, anything, it's my need to make you happy."

"That's got to be exhausting," I mutter, even though my cheeks flush instantly with enjoyment at his reassurance. I shouldn't want, nor need so much of it, but I'm too selfish to tell him to stop. I want his world to start and end with me. He chuckles against my hair.

"Extremely."

We stand in silence, and I'm positive we're both keeping each other upright. My heavy eyelids struggle to part. My fingers move over the soft hair covering his forearms.

"Is it bad that I really want to sleep?" I ask him, knowing one of the greatest wonders of the world is just outside our window. He chuckles, kissing my temple and his arms begin to slacken, releasing their hold.

"You read my mind."

...

By the time I reemerge into consciousness, the sky behind the draped curtains has darkened, now painted in pastel colors while the sun descends below the horizon. I'm in the clothes I arrived in, still atop the comforter. Giovanni is on his side, deeply sleeping. I don't remember a time I've found him asleep, which is worrisome, so I take every precaution climbing out of bed not to wake him. Gently, I shut the door to the bathroom to shower, and by the time I exit, wrapped in the robe provided by the hotel that was hanging behind the door beside an exact replica, he's still under.

I take a seat by the window, and dig into my purse for my phone, which I've ignored long enough. Right when I open up the screen, I face the bombarded messages, and take the time to scroll past the personal ones first.

Rebecca: Um, Niagara Falls? That's an odd vacation spot...a lot of people go there for a reason. Something you want to tell me? ;) I will hold down the fort here. Carlos wants you to call him. He suggested meeting for drinks when you get back. I diverted it to dinner discreetly, knowing your restriction on alcoholic beverages.

Ed: Checking in on you. I was worried about you yesterday at the funeral. Give me a call whenever you feel like it. Day or night, you know that.

Monica: Scarlett, I'd like to catch up before the meeting of the will. Maybe lunch? Let me know what times you have available. I know you are a very busy woman now.

I write Rebecca back, diverting her inquiries and leave Ed's and Monica's messages where they are. It takes me nearly thirty minutes to go through all of the business related ones, which I take the time to respond, glad that most of them are regarding work, and not Norman. The ones that are about him I type out an obligatory thank you, excluding any emotion.

Wishing I could shut my phone off all together, I instead stuff it down into the bottom of my purse, where I won't be bothered by its noise or reminders. Norman's funeral was only yesterday, and as nice as the service was, it was spoiled by the surprise guest. Ted—whose eyes, so strong with hatred—still are embedded in my brain, having emerged from my darkest thoughts. I have no idea what happened with him and Giovanni, but Giovanni's hand full of splintered glass may keep him away for good.