Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 142640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 713(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 475(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 713(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 475(@300wpm)
Giuliano is driving and deep in thought, miles away. I wonder what he’s thinking about. I go to pull my hand off his thigh and he stops me by grabbing my hand, he glances over. “Don’t.”
“I thought I must have been annoying you.”
“No.” He frowns. “As if touching me would ever be annoying.”
“Well, you haven’t said a word for over an hour.”
“Sorry.” He rolls his lips. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Such as?”
He gives a subtle shake of his head. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Jules.” I squeeze his thigh. “I know you are used to doing everything alone, but one of the main benefits of having a partner is like having your very own sounding board.”
He glances over.
“If you are worried about something, it makes it easier if you talk it through with someone.”
He smirks and keeps his eyes on the road, he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my fingertips. “Really?”
“Yes.” I smile hopefully over at my man. “So…what are you worried about?”
He twists his lips as if contemplating telling me. “Well….” He cuts himself off.
“Well, what?” I wait for his reply with bated breath.
“I’m worried about how my cock is going to fit into your ass.”
I burst out laughing in surprise. “What?”
His eyes flick over and he raises an eyebrow. “True story.”
“No need to worry about that, you fool, because it’s not happening.” I giggle, this man kills me.
“We’ll see.” He smiles as he watches the road. “Give me time.”
I know that’s not what he was worried about but it was his way of deflecting a serious subject.
Giuliano pulls into the driveway of his mother’s house and we both fall silent.
I can feel the weight of his grief as it falls over him.
“When were you last here?” I ask.
“The funeral.”
I frown. “You haven’t been back?”
“Only in my nightmares.”
Oh….
Suddenly I feel every bit of his anxiety, it overwhelms me as I take on his pain.
He turns the car off and we sit in silence and stare at the darkened house, the headlights from the cars behind us turn in off the road too.
“You know what we should do?” I say.
“Go home?”
I smile. “No, we should go straight in and do the photo thing tonight, that way we can get it over with and enjoy the rest of the weekend without a sense of dread.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He sighs.
“Come on.” I open my car door. “If you be good, I’ll let you fuck me in your old bed.”
He chuckles. “It’s so cute how you say you’ll let me…like you have a choice.”
We walk up to the front door and he fusses around with the keys and the door finally opens. He flicks the lights on and a huge, larger than life painting of my father and the young boy that he loved so much, hits me square in the face.
My heart constricts as I stare at it.
Giuliano is right, he has so much to lose.
It’s just gone midnight.
The house is eerily silent, we are in the attic going through boxes and boxes of photographs. The lights are dim, along with my love’s mood.
The photographs are bringing up a lot of memories for both him and me, the good, the bad and the ugly.
I made us dinner, we drank a bottle of wine and although Giuliano would have preferred to have sex in his childhood bed and gone to sleep, I wanted to do it now.
I hate the looming anxiety, better to get it over with. But, now we are in the here and now, I’m not sure I want to be doing this either.
All these photos of his mother and my father, so in love…makes me so sad for my mother and the life she has lived.
I imagine the embarrassment she must have felt in front of the guards every time he returned to her from this house. They were with him every step of the way, they knew everything. When he left Angelina’s bed and returned to hers…they all knew.
How did she cope with the shame?
If he were my husband, I’m quite sure I would have cut off his dick in his sleep with a pair of scissors.
Bastard.
I dig through the box I’m unpacking, we are putting the photographs into piles to be put in separate albums one day. A family pile, a friend pile and a random pile.
I pick up a photograph and stare at it for a moment, it’s of a man lying on the couch. The couch is different but I can tell that it’s downstairs here.
He’s good looking, his dark hair is tousled and he’s muscular, wearing only a pair of boardshorts.
Hmm….
I pick up another photo and it’s of the same man, this time in a suit. I smile, he’s so handsome, this must be her brother. I keep looking and find another image of the same man again, this time, he’s lying on a bed in boxer shorts.