I got ready for the dinner, using the large closet to dress in. When I heard Matteo get in the shower, with a sad sigh, I slipped on the shoes and looked in the mirror. The dress was understated and pretty. The heels made me taller and showed off my legs. I looked different with my hair swept up and makeup on. The plain Evelyn I had always thought myself to be was gone, and Evie Campari was in her place.
Matteo entered the closet, clearly surprised to find me there. His eyes raked over me, the heat building in the room around us as he stared. Our eyes locked in the mirror, and I saw his reaction to me, the way his body tensed and his eyes became hooded. Then he broke our gaze and turned away.
“I’ll be ready in ten minutes. Be at the front door,” he commanded, reaching for a suit and striding from the closet, leaving me feeling devastated.
I wanted his praise. I craved his touch. I knew if he had seen me looking like this two days ago, we would have been late arriving to the dinner. My hair wouldn’t have been perfect, and I would be covered in his scent.
Instead, I was empty and aching.
And, for the first time since that day in the warehouse, feeling utterly bereft.
Matteo was the perfect husband during the dinner. He introduced me, stayed close, and chatted with everyone at the table. He was constantly interrupted by people coming to see him, and he played his part very well. He was still intense, but it was tempered with humor. I understood why his business was so successful as I listened to him speak. He was extremely knowledgeable and well-thought-of. I was quiet for the most part, doing my best to act as if everything was fine and the man next to me was nothing but a loving new husband. He played the part well, accepting congratulations, introducing me as if he was proud. Though his hand hovered, it never touched. His gaze focused over my shoulder when he looked my way, bringing me into various conversations. More than once, he leaned over, looking to many as if he was bestowing a gentle caress to my skin or whispering in my ear. But his lips fell short of touching me, and the only words he uttered were instructions telling me to smile more, to stop playing with my clothing. On occasion, I was sure I saw a softening in his expression, a sadness flit over his face, but then he would blink, the expression disappearing.
I was grateful when the evening was over. The ride home was silent, the tension in the car so thick, you could cut it with a knife. At the house, as soon as we were inside, he strode away from me to his office. I stood alone in the hall, listening to the sound of the door closing, feeling more alone than ever.
Upstairs, I removed my makeup and hung up the dress I had been so excited to wear. The bags from my shopping expedition still sat on the floor, untouched, the desire to open them absent.
I washed my face and got into bed, already knowing Matteo would not join me. I lay for hours, unable to sleep, the pain in my chest twisting and burning.
I missed him.
I sat up as a thought hit me. Was he so angry he wouldn’t be able to move past this? Had one bad decision on my part caused us irreparable damage? I knew he saw everything in black-and-white. But surely here, he could see the gray? I made a mistake. I had already paid for it, and I would never make it again. He had to know that. To believe me.
I was out of bed and headed down the steps quickly, my bare feet quiet on the carpeted floor. At his office, I hesitated, then pushed open the door, expecting to find him behind the desk. Instead, I found him on the sofa, bare-chested, his jacket and shirt flung over the back of the chair, his belt on the floor and his pants half undone, and one shoe off. There was a bottle of scotch open on the floor. He was asleep, his arm flung over his head. He didn’t look peaceful, his mouth moving and frowning, muttering under his breath, his legs moving restlessly.
I kneeled beside him, the intensity of my feelings surprising me. His anxiety moved me, and without thinking, I laid my hand on his chest over his heart.
Instantly, his body relaxed. I lowered my eyes as his breathing changed, becoming deeper. I startled when I felt his arm move, and he covered my hand with his. Lifting my gaze, I met his intense stare. For a moment, there was silence. I opened my mouth, my voice pleading.