Page 61 of Because I Need You
“Listen.” I shot her a look. “Don’t knock ’em, till you try ’em. I thought they were ugly until I tried them on and now I have three pairs.”
“Nope.” That was Petra, also laughing. “No, ma’am. I’m good.”
“Whatever.” I shook my head. I was still smiling when I heard the sound of footsteps in the hall.
We all sobered up fast and turned to look. My heart raced, knowing it was him, finally, and that felt like a knife to the heart because I knew that even though I’d merely dipped my toes in what was this thing with Giovanni, I was already I was in too deep. His dark eyes met mine first. He was wearing a white button down, no tie, and charcoal dress pants. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept at all, his face covered in a shadow that surpassed five o’clock, for sure. He looked sexy as hell. I swallowed down that thought as I took in the rest of him. That was when I noticed his bloodied bandaged hands and gasped unwillingly. I met his eyes again, questioning, but he gave nothing. He finally tore his gaze from mine and looked at his sisters. That was when he smiled. For them, he smiled, a real, comforting smile that made me want to cry because I wished it had been directed at me first or second or at all.
“Why are you here?” the demand in his voice was a contrast to the expression on his face.
They both stood up and gave him a hug. I didn’t miss the way his eyes flinched at that. They pulled away and took a seat back where they were, pouring more wine in each of their glasses. I continued to look at him, to examine his hands, what I could see of his body, which was nothing really. When I looked at his face again, I found him staring at me, that unreadable look on his face, his jaw set as if was trying to hold something in. Words? Questions? I wanted so badly to find out. I wanted so badly to stand up and launch myself at him, to show him the relief I felt at the fact that he was here, but I wouldn’t. I wasn’t his girlfriend. But you’re his wife, a little voice reminded me. I took comfort in that, even if it was hidden comfort and I’d never say it aloud.
“I’m going to shower and change,” he said, finally, tearing his gaze away from me as he walked past us and headed to his room.
I made myself stay in my chair. I made myself pick up my glass of wine as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening, because what else could I do?
I looked at Petra and whispered, “I think I should move rooms. Since he’s back and all.”
“Good luck,” she said, “You’re free to go tell him that if you want. I’m not getting yelled at tonight.”
“Why would he yell?” I shot her a look, then looked at his sisters who were both wearing the same expression on their faces — lips pressed together as they shot me a sympathetic look.
Catalina broke the silence, smiling softly. “Give him some time.”
I nodded, but even as I nodded I knew I was going over there, not because I needed to hug him or touch him, because that would be extremely hypocritical of me, but because I wanted to make sure he was okay. He didn’t look okay. The only second, he seemed okay was when he smiled at his sisters, and even that was short-lived. I waited as long as I could, which turned out to be two minutes, according to the clock on the microwave. His sisters laughed lightly. Petra pressed her lips together, shaking her head, seemingly telling me not to go. Even Joey flinched. I made my way to him anyway.
26
ISABEL
I found him in the bathroom. He was wearing gray sweatpants, but remained shirtless, as he re-tried to bandage his left hand. His right hand looked bad. Really bad. As if he’d punched glass repeatedly. His eyes snapped to mine in the mirror. He didn’t even hide his annoyance or his glare or the fact that he looked like he was ready to kill me.
“You should go back to the kitchen.”
“I should.” I took a step forward, then another, until I finally reached him. I kept my eyes on his hand. He kept his on me. I knew this not only because my skin was prickling with the awareness of it, but also because his hand was still frozen in mid-air, the way it had been when I walked in. I swallowed. “Let me do this.”
“So, you can touch me, but I can’t touch you?”
I met his eyes, narrowing my own. “This isn’t touching you. This is helping you since you seem to be struggling with it.”
