Chapter 12: Chapter 11
MAGDALENA
"So how is married life treating my Principessa?" Nonna asked as we went into the garden where she'd prepared some cakes and espresso.
Not so good, I wanted to tell her.
My husband hasn't even touched me yet and it didn't seem as though he'd be touching me anytime soon. If only I knew what I did to deserve such treatment.
"It's good,"I lied as I sat down on one of the black iron-cast chairs.
I couldn't stand the silence of Damien's home any longer, so I had to come and visit Nonna even with my bodyguard looming somewhere in the shadows. Nonna was the only one who could make me feel sane when every else seemed crazy.
"I'm glad to hear it, Principessa," she said with warm smile. "But you're back here so fast. Are you sure everything is okay?"
I lift my cup and take a sip of the bittersweet espresso, before smiling at Nonna. If she continued asking me that, I was going to leave my guard down and break down in front of her. But I couldn't do that. I was a married woman now. My husband was a feared man. I should have been as strong as Mama and Nonna. But I knew deep down, I could never be strong like them. I gave in too quickly and even if I did have the spirit of a fighter in me, it quickly backed down when I was intimidated.
Nonna even stood up to Papa and that was saying something. No one ever stood up to him, not even my brother.
I remember once coming downstairs to finding Nonna lifting her finger and scolding my father. She told him that she brought him into this world and she can also take him out.
She was fierce and didn't back down for one second. That was Nonna for you.
"Everything is fine, Nonna," I said reassuringly. "I just wanted to visit my favourite person in the world. I already warned my husband, that I couldn't live without my Nonna."
At hearing this, Nonna beamed widely and my heart warmed immediately. She was old and probably experienced too much of heartache in her lifetime. She didn't need me adding to that heartache.
We ate our dessert and had our coffee, while gossiping about who was getting married to who and who had an affair. Nonna knew all the tea from around town. She's like a reality TV show host that you could listen to, except for free. It felt like the old days again. Just the other day, Nonna and I were doing the exact same thing except I was single and didn't have to leave my home. As the afternoon drew closer, I eventually realized that I would have to leave. As much I would have loved to stay and even get to see my brother and Papa, they were out doing work and I couldn't afford to bother them. Especially not with my presence.
I kissed Nonna on the cheeks and bid her goodbye, before leaving with Leo.
Back in the house, there was only silence and the random bird twittering in the distance.
Isabelle made me another cup of espresso and I didn't want to bother her again, so I walked around the house, admiring the vintage paintings, the majolica tiles and colours of burnt sienna and browns.
But I also realized how none of this stuff respresented Damien and his personality or his entire life story. Everything in here was cold and silent. A piano sat lonely in the one of the living rooms, there were no frames. No personal touch to anything. It almost made me wonder if he ever stayed here at all before I came along. Everything was placed so perfectly, nothing out of place, not one frame askew. It was all very bizarre to me. I thought I could learn more about him, if I explored, but this wasn't telling me anything.
It was the same in our bedroom. All his clothes were neatly packed away, that familiar spicy scent of his lingering to each piece of clothing. His bedside was empty, whereas mine was already full with books and an apple and a little book in which I could do little sketches.
I was starting to feel as though I was living in
alone and not with a person. The only thing that acknowledged his existence was he himself when he showed up in the evenings and his clothes.
Sighing, I strip off my clothes and head into the bathroom. I run the water in the claw foot bathtub, until there's steam surrounding me.
And then I climb in, allowing my weight to float in the hot water. Allowing my thoughts to slow down and the heaviness from my shoulders lift.
I didn't know what to expect tonight, but I scrubbed my skin well after I was done soaking and then rinsed my body before climbing back out.
Once I patted my body dry with one of the fluffy towels, I lathered some rose-scented oil onto my palm and massaged my body with it.
When I was done, I pressed the panel and stepped into the closet, touching each beautiful dress that I came across. Finally, I settled on a black slip dress with lace detail and thin straps.
The dress hugged against my curves and felt silky against my skin. For a brief moment, I imagined Damien taking this dress off me and touching me where I wanted to be touched most. Those rough fingers taking ahold of me as he held me close. The feel of his lips on mine once again. I never knew what it felt like to be with a man before, but now that I'd gotten a taste of Damien, I wanted to experience all of it again.
My body prickled with desire immediately, but I shoved those thoughts away. I wouldn't allow myself to give in that easily. If he didn't want me, I wasn't going to be pathetic and offer him my body. He didn't want to have anything to do with me and he made it more than clear from the day we got married. He barely kissed me on the alter, cut his palm and spilled his blood on our sheets, so how could I expect him to offer me anything else now?
At least this much I had learned from Nonna and it wasn't a lesson I would forget.
I pinned up my long, dark tresses and applied a dark nude lipstick to my lips.
"Never let a man make you lower your standards," Nonna once said.
So I would hold my head high.
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