Chapter 77
Alena
Matteo and I were in the car, on our way to dinner. We had gotten ready and dressed up comfortably after Luca left because we wanted to spend our time outside-we chose our favourite pizza restaurant, somewhere we used to go every other weekends. We managed to try different flavours whenever we came here and each time we tried something new, we were impressed. The owner, Giordano knew us and every time we came to eat at his restaurant, he ended up giving us more than what we ordered. Giordano always said it was his 'treat' or 'on the house' and even though we had a hard time trying to finish the meals, we ended up ordering a takeaway.
I enjoyed his smoked duck where it was packed with Italian tomato sauce, mozzarella, smoked duck breast, rocket leaves and hot honey. Every time I had a slice, I ended up wanting more.
This time, we were back at Giordano's restaurant and he seemed surprised when he saw us walked through the front door. We hadn't been here in awhile and he was probably surprised because of how we looked.
"Kiddos! I haven't seen you two in ages," he went to shake Matteo's hand before pulling me in for a hug, something he did everytime we came.
"Giordano, how are you?"
"I've been well. What about you? What happened to your arm?" He asked, concerned about my fractured arm.
"I fell," the lie slipped smoothly as I smiled.
There wasn't a better answer than that I couldn't tell him the truth even if I wanted to-where was I supposed to startNôvelDrama.Org holds this content.
d I was recently anyway? My father and my brother was in the mafia. Apparently, my husband was in the mafia as wel kidnapped.
People were going to call me insane. Nobody knew how traumatic my life was.
"My, my, how did it happen?"
"It was an accident at work. The floor was slippery," I replied.
Matteo was holding onto my waist as he looked down at me, a smile never leaving his face. We were putting up the act of a 'perfect' couple, as if we weren't having problems of our own. It was a facade but we were doing a good job. "Is that how you... lost-" Giordano stuttered, not sure of his own question.
I knew exactly what he was going to ask. The last time I came here, I was pregnant. My stomach was big enough for everyone to see but I didn't have the baby bump anymore and I had lost a lot of weight. Giordano may have assumed the worst.
I nodded slowly, not wanting to think of another lie.
Actually, I didn't want to spend another time explaining about what happened. Losing Marco was a painful experience for Matteo and I, we never wanted to talk about it unless we could feel better by expressing. Besides, Giordano was someone didn't see frequently, it was fine to just let things slide.
"I'm so sorry to hear that. To both of you."
He truly looked like he was sorry for us and I knew he meant well.
"Thank you, Giordano."
"Please, tonight is on the house. Order anything you like,"
Matteo frowned, "We can't do that, Giordano."
"Please, please, it'll make me feel a bit better. Tonight's my treat, he replied before slowly gesturing us towards our table, where we were further away
else. from anyone
Giordano knew that Matteo and I enjoyed our privacy. This was our favourite spot to sit whenever we came here because we could talk without feeling as if someone could interrupt us-we were further from the other customers, we preferred it here. "Here's the menu. Call me when you're ready to order,"
I smiled one more time at him before he walked away.
Matteo had helped me to sit down before sitting the opposite from me. We were one of those couples where we enjoyed sitting from the opposite of each other-we liked to watch each other eat. Sometimes, he was beside me to make it easier to share food. Once we were properly seated, we smiled at each other.
As I scanned through the menu, I couldn't help but feel distracted by Matteo's stare. He hadn't stopped staring at me ever since we sat down and even though I had glanced at his direction for the past few seconds, it didn't seem to bother him. He liked it "Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?" I asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
The corner of his lips curved up into a smile as he continued to stare. There was something different tonight with his gaze, his eyes were more twinkling and his smile was more genuine. However, he had left me confused but I decided it was best to wait for his answer. "Matteo..." I called out, putting the menu down.
"You're absolutely beautiful. I can't keep my eyes off of you," he replied.
My cheeks started to heat up as I smiled, "Liar."
"Not. You're breathtaking,"
"How can you say that?"
"Why? Why can't I say that?"
"You've looked at me a million times. I'm sure you're already bored of me,"
"Now... that's a big fat lie."
We both laughed as I leaned back on the seat. As for him, he stayed still at his spot, where he could stare at me; even if we were married for twenty or thirty years, I knew he was never going to fail making me blush whenever he complimented me.
As much as he complimented me, I enjoyed them.
"I'm not as beautiful as before," I said in a low tone.
After I was kidnapped and tortured, I was a bit self-conscious of myself. I knew I had lost a lot of weight and I had a few bruises on my body, it made me feel ugly. However, to Matteo, I was the most beautiful woman in the world-he proved it to me through his words, through his actions and through our love-making sessions.
40 Mon, Nov 4
My body was healing and I was slowly getting better but I couldn't help myself by feeling less confident or a bit insecure. It was normal for me to feel that way.
"Another big fat lie. Do you know that you're the most beautiful woman in the world?"
"Really? You haven't met every woman in the world."
"I don't have to. I know you are."
I couldn't stop smiling. I couldn't stop blushing either.
I cleared my throat, trying to change the subject. "We haven't been here in awhile,"
"We used to come here every weekend. Our favourite spot." He replied, leaning back as he continued to look at me. I had expected him to look away or played with his phone but he was more interested in me, as if there wasn't anything else that mattered. "I miss our dates." I muttered, sighing.
He reached out to grab my hand before rubbing the back of it, "We'll get our date nights back. Trust me on that one, okay?"
"It'll probably take some time before we get back to our usual routine. Do you think we'll be able to go back to how things were?" I asked, feeling slightly worried.
"No doubt. Trust me," he replied.
could feel butterflies in my stomach as he continued to rub my hand. As I scanned through the menu again, I told him what I wanted to order. It didn't take him long to call Giordano once more before repeating our orders; we decided to share our pizza, add-on a pasta and two glasses of red wine.
It was our regular order. Just a different topping this time.
Once Giordano walked away to get our food ready, Matteo and I started to talk.
We were talking about how much we missed our routine, how much we wanted our lives back. It was fun to reminisce but
$
we couldn't help feeling sad when the talk was over. We had taken our previous routine for granted because we thought we could never lose it.
After losing Marco, we had lost everything.
At first, Matteo and I thought having Marco was going to be the beginning of everything. We were satisfied with our life but we knew we were excited for our son-we knew his arrival was going to change everything but little did we know, we weren't going to have him in this life.
I knew I was never supposed to have my hopes high.
But, I didn't think I was able to lose my son.
The way I had reacted after losing Marco was solely my fault. Matteo only wanted to be there for me, to help me get through the stages of grief but I had pushed him away as if he was the cause of my misery. had forgotten about his suffering and his misery as well.
It wasn't just my son. It was his son, too.
We had lost 'our' son.
He had pushed his ego and his sadness away just for my sake. Yet, I had thought having space was a better option. It wasn't even supposed to be an option in the first place, it was a selfish act.
"Alena..." Matteo called out reaching for my hand again.
"Mm?"
"I love you."
I smiled, "I love you."
"But, I love you more."
"I love you more."
He shook his head, "That's not possible."
"Why not?"
"You can't love me more, Alena."
"Why can't I?"
"it doesn't work that way. I always have to love you more," he replied.
"I must be the luckiest woman in the world."
"And I'm the luckiest man in the world."
Sometimes, I wondered if other people had these cringy conversation with each other because I knew if anyone heard the way we spoke, they were probably going to throw up.
The night was spent enjoying our food and drinks, forgetting about everything else.
We knew we had other problems to worry about such as Papa and Alexei and the man who had kidna I need me but we didn't want to think about that at the moment. We had enough of worrying, it was best to have some peace and think of something else. Peace wasn't something we were blessed with.
Just for tonight, we wanted peace more than anything else.
0