Even the stolen moments where I got to hold her in my arms for a dance or two, she seemed distracted, distant.
And I ended up feeling more and more out of place by the minute.
The only saving grace was Rose. Every moment not spent with Helena, I spent talking with Rose. Dancing with Rose. Making Rose laugh. It almost felt like I was her wedding date, not Helena’s.
Even after the reception was over, I didn’t get much time with Helena. Through a yawn, she crawled into bed and pulled me close, holding me against her as she drifted off into sleep.
I was tired too, but I had been looking forward to just being with her. I had imagined stripping her out of her dress and making up for lost time. Spending our last night in Italy together, making love with nothing but the moonlight on our skin.
I didn’t want this trip to end. I didn’t want to get on a plane tomorrow, with no promise I’d ever see her again.
The house was abuzz the next morning, with everyone bustling to pack, to spend their final moments in Italy together. And even though Helena seemed content to be around her family, her sister and her new brother-in-law, I couldn’t help but resent the amount of time they were getting with her.
Which made me an asshole, but I didn’t care. We bought all those sexy, lacy things that I was dying to see Helena in again. And strip Helena out of. But there was no time. There was no chance of getting even a quickie in while we showered, let alone hours of photos, of slow seduction, until all her lace was soaked with her desire and she was practically begging me to take her.
It wasn’t the photoshoot or the lingerie that was bumming me out, it was being with her, making her laugh, watching her enjoy food, just being in her presence while she read, and I sketched. I wanted it all and I was empty handed.
When the car was loaded and we were finally alone, Helena reached over and took my hand, threading her fingers between mine. “I’m sorry we didn’t get more time today.”
“You were with your family. I understand.” I kissed her knuckles before I threw the car into gear, feeling less understanding than my words claimed. “We’ll just have to schedule some time at some point to do that photoshoot.”
She turned toward the window as she said, “Yeah, we’ll do that.”
Could she be as unhappy about how the morning went as I was? Or was she already pushing me away, breaking the connection we had?
“It was a beautiful wedding.” I swallowed hard, biting back the things I wanted to say.
Things like we should stay a while. Or Don’t take my ring off when we get on the plane. Stay my fiancée. Let me woo you, let me make you mine.
All the things I didn’t feel like I could ask of her, because I wasn’t really her fiancé. Because as soon as we touched down on American soil again, she would go her own way, and even though there was so much more I wanted to do with her, so much more I wanted to show her, to give her, I knew life would crash in.
“It was. Daphne makes a beautiful bride.” She smiled softly. “And you clean up pretty nice too.”
“I had the most beautiful woman in the room on my arm. I couldn’t look like a slob with paint in my hair.” I winked at her and squeezed her hand. “You’re going to make a beautiful bride one day too. And whoever’s waiting on the other end of that aisle is going to be damned lucky to see you walking toward him.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know if all this is for me. It’s a lot of planning, a lot of ceremony and tradition. I think I’d be more comfortable with something small, something intimate. Something that’s for us.”
It was too easy to picture her in a light, flowing dress, walking down the beach with flowers in her hair and a smile meant just for me. It was too easy to picture her as not just a bride, but as my bride.
And the visual crushed in my chest like an elephant just sat down.
“I guess you’d want something artistic, maybe cutting edge for your wedding? A bride with bright pink hair?”
“No, that’s Aubrey’s thing.” I chuckled. “I guess Chuck brought out the wild child in her. She always seems to have some streak of color in her hair. Not quite to the extreme that Bex takes it though.” I smirked. “I honestly haven’t thought much about getting married. I don’t know who would want someone like me.”
Helena didn’t say anything for what seemed like an eternity, but when she did, I’d almost wish she hadn’t said anything at all. “She’s out there. I’m sure of it.”
If only she were in here, in the car, instead.
Helena spent most of the flight sleeping, which would’ve been perfectly reasonable. If it weren’t for the fact that I really wanted to spend every moment I could with her instead.
It felt like walls were building up between us, spanning so high and so far, there was no way to scale them.
It was as if the moment her family obligations were over, she was done pretending. It felt like the ruse of being her fiancé had worked too well. Convincing not just her family, but my heart too.
And now, I was sure it was breaking.
One week later…
“I’ll come home when I can. I have to get the collection finished for the gallery opening, or my curator will probably use my severed head as one of the displays.” I paced my studio, talking to Neil on a video call.
I had taken to sleeping in the studio. To spending all my time here.
At least the small bed left no room to feel like I was missing the most important person in my life.
The photos I took, the canvases I’d had shipped from Florence, spoke such a different aesthetic than the one I was feeling now.
I couldn’t seem to get back to that happiness. That joy. That love.
Not without Helena.
“Are you paying attention, Giovanni?” Neil’s voice drew me back to the present, to the call. “I just told you I’m a father.”
“Wait, what? Since when?” Neil hadn’t dated anyone in ages, as far as I knew. He spent so much time as a soldier, and I knew he still suffered PTSD. Losing his unit, his leg, and his best friend, broke something in him.
“You haven’t been paying any attention at all, have you? Or are your batteries dying again?” He rolled his eyes, and a moment later I saw him step back and sign, “I’m a father to a beautiful little girl. You need to come home and meet your niece.”
“I can hear you just fine. You don’t have to switch languages to get my attention.” Even if it was the first time in two or three days I’d even remembered to put them on. “I just don’t understand. You have a kid?”
“That’s why I told you to get your ass home, Gio.” He chuckled. “And Mom wants to see you. She’s been asking about Helena.”
Of course, she had. I hadn’t really talked to anyone about what had happened between me and Helena; I’d just buried myself in my work hoping to burn her out of my mind. “I’ll book a flight after the opening. I have to get these paintings done.” I had to find my motivation again. And I needed to figure out a way to spin the exhibit titles to explain why everything I painted seemed to include at least one blue butterfly.
“Are you booking two seats?” He smirked at me. “You know when Mom asks about the girl you’re seeing, she’s really asking you to bring her around again.”
“And this is why I don’t bring women home with me.” I rolled my eyes at him. “I need to get back to my art. Send me pictures of this kid of yours and tell me what the hell happened.”
Neil hung up with promises of photos soon and the story when I arrived.
I set my phone back on the speaker to turn music on once more. I still felt like I was missing a huge piece of the story where this baby was concerned, but I couldn’t worry about it right now. I had to finish my paintings, and I had to figure out a way to get Helena out of my head.
As if that was ever going to happen. If Mom was asking, it meant all my sisters were probably hoping for more information too, and the longer I stayed in New York, the longer I kept my distance, the more pressure I
would get.
I should’ve just told Neil we broke up. It would’ve been simpler. And it wasn’t a lie. Not really.
Maybe I shouldn’t be such an asshole and go and see my little brother and apparently my new niece. What the fuck happened?
Everything seemed upside down.
I hadn’t talked to her since we got back to the U.S. and went our separate ways.
Every time I went to text her, or to start up a video chat, my stomach dropped. Bile rose in my throat. Or I had the urge to break something. Anything to purge this feeling of pain in my gut.
If this was what love felt like, no wonder I’d avoided it so long.
Even with the defeated ache, I hadn’t given up. Not to her, not to my family, and most of all not to myself.
Starting up my favorite painting playlist again, I cranked up the volume as loud as it would go and tried to get lost in my art again.
26
Helena
The diamond ring sat on my dresser, haunting me like a ghost.
I couldn’t bring myself to sell it, but I couldn’t bear to wear it either. And I wouldn’t send it back to Gio.
It was just one more thing I wasn’t ever going to get to wear again. I should’ve put it in a box, with the blue dress, with the beautiful jewelry and hairpin he’d gotten to go with the dress. And all that expensive lingerie I never got to wear.
Wearing it for anyone who wasn’t Gio seemed like a betrayal, like I was cheating on him, even if it was myself.
Not that I suddenly had prospects knocking down my door.
Even if I did, I doubted anyone would measure up.
My phone chimed, and for half a second, I let myself believe it was my best friend. The man I had let myself fall in love with, despite my best efforts.
Instead, Rose’s name flashed across the screen.
Rose: Hey, I won a trip to New York in a couple weeks. Do you want to go with me? I bet you could use a getaway, after everything that happened.
After the lies I told.
I needed a clean break from Gio, from the sinking feeling in my gut that I’d fallen in love with him, and I that he hadn’t fallen for me the same way.
So, I lied.
I told them we just decided to be friends. The part that sucked the most was that no one seemed surprised or even cared much, like they’d never gotten attached to Gio in the first place. Or that they’d never believed we would really get married at all.
Never mind the fact that this was all my fault. The broken heart. The wasted lingerie and jewels. All the lies.
Helena: When? I don’t know if I can take time off again so soon.
Rose: Two weeks. Come on, it’s just for a long weekend. Surely you can get away for four days. It’s not like I’m making you fly all over the world like Daph did.
She had a point.
Helena: Okay. Let me move some stuff around, and I’ll get back to you.
I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage it yet, and part of me felt like I was just torturing myself, but it would be nice to see Rose, to spend time with her away from the rest of the family.
Even if it meant being in the same city as Gio again.
Even if it meant having constant reminders of the man I let get too close to my heart.
Even if it meant tempting fate or betting my heart that I wouldn’t have to see him again.
Rose paced in front of the gate, looking noticeably nervous as I approached.
I was surprised she was here alone. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d ever seen her without someone else who could sign, someone who could translate for her.
Tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention, I waved and smiled. “Hi, Rose.” I used the hand sign for her name with affection.
“Hi, Helena.” She grinned and as she signed my name, I couldn’t help but think of Gio too. He’d adopted Rose’s sign for me, but I wouldn’t let it ruin Rose and I getting tattoos together. That was our shared moment. And I didn’t want to be the woman who was reminded of their ex around every corner. “How’d you win a trip to New York? And did you fly here all alone?” I had so many questions, and I really wanted to stay positive, upbeat with Rose. It wasn’t her fault that I was hung up on a guy who hadn’t talked to me since my sister’s wedding.
Not that I had reached out to him either.
“I’m getting better at doing things alone. Mom hates it, but I told her, I can’t just stay home under foot forever. I need to grow up and figure out how to be independent.” She grinned. “Turns out, there’s a lot of apps that make it easier. And being able to type notes in my phone gets things through pretty easily.” She pointed at the gate. “I am glad you could make it though. I swear, Mom was going to take the second ticket if you didn’t agree. She doesn’t think I can get around New York without someone who hears.”
“Your mom is only worried about you, but I think it’s important to do things on your own too. This is so great!” I hugged her again, excited for her.
Rose’s confidence was contagious, and I was starting to feel better already.
“You’re going to do great.” I hoisted my carry-on bag higher on my shoulder. “What are we going to do in New York? I’m guessing the free tickets were attached to some sort of event?”
“There’s this hot gallery opening we have to attend. You did bring the blue dress, right?”
The blue dress. While we were getting ready, it was the only thing she insisted get put in my bag. Now I knew why.
“Of course. Are we really going to such a fancy event?”
“It’s part of the tickets. The day of the exhibit opening, we’re supposed to have hair and makeup, nails, the whole nine yards.” She looked at me nervously. “Is that okay?”
“It’s a free trip to New York. Of course, it’s okay!” I grinned. I was way more bohemian than chic, but for Rose, I’d do just about anything. And I was even a little excited to get dressed up and have a fancy night out with my dear cousin.
“Doesn’t Gio live in New York? Maybe we could get dinner one night.”
Rose never seemed to buy the lies. Maybe my fingers didn’t have as strong a poker face as my verbal lies did.
Somehow, she still seemed intent on talking to me about him. About asking if we were going to see him again.
“I’m sure he’s busy.” And I don’t want to see him.
They called our boarding group, and I nudged Rose toward the gangway down to the plane. “We’ll have so much to do, you won’t miss him.”
Not like I did.
The whole flight, Rose was evasive when I asked about how she got these tickets, or who the artist was.
“Can’t you just enjoy the trip? I never get to get away without Mom. And I think you need it, even if you haven’t said so.” She nudged me. “Are you ever going to tell me what really happened with you and Gio?”
I sighed and reached up to call the flight attendant. If I was going to have this conversation, I needed a drink.
When I had a cocktail of rum and coke on my tray, I turned back to Rose and signed, “It was my fault, mostly, okay? I wasn’t good enough for him, and we both knew it.”
“I’m not sure he knew that,” Rose said solemnly. “I got to talk with him when you weren’t around. And it seemed to me he liked you just the way you are.” She reached over and stole a sip of my drink. “I refuse to believe he broke up with you just after the wedding. Not with the way he looked at you.”
“Well, he did, Rose. I don’t know what you want me to say.” I scowled and downed the rest of my drink in one swig. “Why are we talking about him, anyway? New York’s a big place, it’s not like he’s going to be waiting at the baggage claim with a big bouquet of red roses.” I rolled my eyes, tempted to purposely look away from her, to end the conversation.
Rose shrugged. “He might not be, but Helena, you’re my favorite cousin and one of my dearest friends. The only one who made any effort to find a way to talk to me that didn’t involve writing or m
aking vague gestures that are harder to interpret than A.S.L. I don’t want to see you give up on something that was really good for you, just because you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared!” I frowned and signed hotly, puffs of air punctuating my signs. “He was a fake fiancé, okay? He wasn’t mine in Italy. He’s never been mine.” I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “I met him in L.A. when Daph was buying her dress. I’ve only known him a few months. The whole thing was a charade.”
“I know. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.” Her knowing smile was frustrating. “You forget how much I watch body language. And even without being able to hear the words he said to you, everything about the way he touched you, the way he stayed close, pointing his whole body toward you even when you were across the room. You can’t fake that unless you’re a master actor or a con artist.”
I looked down, trying to swallow around the thick knot of emotion building in my throat. I didn’t want to hear that he liked me. I didn’t need to hear that he was attracted to me, or that he liked touching me.
My whole body missed his touch. My lips ached from not getting to kiss him. I hadn’t been able to even look at another man, without wondering what Gio was up to, or whether he’d already found a new muse. Someone else to be on the receiving end of his incredible touches.
Rose tapped me on the shoulder as she held out a tissue for me. “Maybe, just maybe, he misses you as much as you miss him.”
Rose went back to the movie she was watching on her phone, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Leaving me to wonder what Gio would say, what he would do, if I managed to find him.
“Are you seriously not going to tell me about which artist we’re going to see?” I hung up the blue dress in the closet, skimming my fingers over the silken fabric gently. It was still the most incredible thing I owned, the most beautiful gown I’d ever put on my body.
The Fiancé Agreement Page 21