Fragile Longing

“What happened? Is it because of the wedding?”

Danilo stretched out on the bed in his low-cut boxer-shorts. “The wedding is twelve days away, and I’m worried that giving her hand to Samuel is a mistake.”

I put down my book and scooted closer to Danilo. He was glaring up at the ceiling. I touched his bare shoulder. “I know Samuel can be difficult, but he’s a good guy. Emma won’t have to be worried he’ll mistreat her.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Danilo said in a low, threatening voice. The promise of violence flickered in his eyes.

“Okay,” I said slowly.

“Emma’s worried I forced Samuel into the marriage and that he doesn’t want her.”

I bit my lip, remembering the conversation I’d overheard a while ago. “It’s the truth, though, isn’t it?”

Danilo’s head swiveled toward me. “What do you mean?”

“I know about the deal between you and my brother. You marry me if he marries Emma.”

Danilo sat up and leaned closer to me. “Did you tell Emma?”

“Of course not. I didn’t want her to feel what I felt when I found out.”

Danilo sighed. “I tried to give Emma the future she deserves after Cincinnati dropped her as if she was worthless. It had nothing to do with you, Sofia. I would have married you either way.”

“Because I’m a Mione and part of the wider Cavallaro clan.”

Danilo didn’t say anything for a while. “That’s not something you can hold against me. I could hardly have chosen you at the age of eleven because I wanted you. You were a kid in my eyes. I followed the rules.”

“I know.” I sighed. “But the deal between you and Samuel still feels icky.”

Danilo stroked my arm gently, but the touch was enough to make my body take notice. “Do you think I don’t know that? That’s why I didn’t want you or Emma to find out. Our world can be harsh. Sometimes it’s better not to know every detail. But you need to know that I’m glad I married you.”

I swallowed. “Do you want me to talk to Emma? Without mentioning the deal, of course.”

“Maybe it would help.”

“Then I’ll give it a try. I’ll call her in the morning and see if she wants to have lunch.”

“Thank you, Sofia.” He leaned forward and kissed me lightly, but his lips lingered against mine, as if he hoped I might deepen the kiss.

And I wanted to. His scent and warmth fogged up my brain. Instead of giving in to my body’s longing, I nodded and pulled back. This night, for the first time since the party, I dreamed about sleeping with Danilo. As with most of my fantasies, my first time happened in front of a fireplace with flames flickering in the background. I wasn’t sure why I’d chosen this fantasy as my favorite, but it played on repeat.

I met Emma for lunch the next day at Danilo’s parents’ house. Her mother was having brunch with a few friends, so we had privacy. Despite my attempts to convince her that Samuel’s coolness had nothing to do with her and was just him being his usual idiotic self, I wasn’t sure if I got through to Emma. Like Danilo, she was good at hiding her emotions. I could only hope that Samuel wouldn’t mess up like Danilo . . . unless he already had. I had no idea of knowing since neither Emma nor he shared anything about their past encounters with me.

In the following days, Danilo seemed more determined to get closer to me, but he also displayed remarkable patience at my keeping my distance. He often touched my lower back when he led me somewhere, took my hand, or gave me one of those lingering kisses that made me want to surrender to him. I enjoyed those small touches and felt myself longing for more with every passing day. Still, I kept my distance.

I grew more relaxed around Danilo and began to find my way around the mansion and Indianapolis. My first meeting with the Captains’ wives went surprisingly well, mostly thanks to Danilo’s mother Adelina, and my introduction to the heads of the charity for disabled children was a full success. I even got along splendidly with the staff in my new home, though they were still restrained in their interactions with me.

The only thing still dimming my happiness was the distant politeness between Danilo and me. It wasn’t the exciting giddiness I’d wished for as a newlywed. This time it wasn’t Danilo who was responsible for our restrained encounters. I could tell he wanted more closeness because he was always touching me and leaning in closely to talk to me, but he accepted my boundaries.

I was torn between gratefulness and impatience. My pride kept me from allowing more, as if I needed to keep him waiting for far longer to make up for the years of longing I’d suffered.