Chapter 6: Heart-To-Heart

Daisy

"What happened to your hand?"

"I had an accident when I was 14. I had to have stitches but my stupid ass went and picked at them which made it scar" I laugh. The memory of itself is pointless. It's hurtful and it reminds me of a time when I couldn't defend myself.

"What kind of accident?"

"It doesn't matter. I learnt my lesson after that. Briefly"

We travel in silence for the remainder of the drive, his hand stays on my covered thigh and my hand stays on top of his but it still feels awfully heavy with tension.

-

The night is full of his family dancing and mingling, Antonioni's Nieces and Nephews running around and doing exactly what children love to do.

The music stops briefly before the MC comes on to ask for the bride and groom to attend the dance floor for their first dance as Mr and Mrs.

Surely he knows it isn't real. This isn't what neither of us wanted and I will be sure to give my father exactly what I think of him tomorrow or whenever I see the sorry excuse for a man.

"Come, Mrs Rosa," Antonio says as he holds my hand and guides me to the dance floor.

"Do we have to?" I ask. I'm all for following rules and being a good wife if that's what he wants but I don't want to be dancing around a hall full of strangers who I don't know, watching my every move.

"Yes. We do" he says quite angrily pulling me with him.

I stand in front of him as the room goes quiet and I lean into his touch. I don't even think I'm doing it until he strokes the length of my back while swiftly guiding us around as if he's done this a thousand times with me already.

"See. It's not that bad is it?" he asks as I keep my face resting on his chest. A few people catch my attention who I believe are his mother and sister.

They both give me a smile and wave which I return but in some ways, it feels strained. I don't know these people and I don't know my husband well enough to feel relaxed.

The night continues and before I know it, he's saying goodbye to his men and we are heading back to his place.

The stairs feel heavy so I begin taking my heels off. I don't expect anything from him. I don't expect anything to come of this marriage and I believe that my hell has officially started tonight.

I make my way to the room I stayed in the last few nights but Antonio's voice brings me back to the moment.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To bed" I reply not even looking at him.

I have never slept next to a man before, I always thought my nightmares would scare someone away.

"Your bed is now in here" he says which makes me stop short of any breath I was taking and look in his direction.

"Excuse me?" I ask but my breathing becomes more difficult. I feel the signs of a panic attack coming along and I know I can't let him look at me believing I'm even more pathetic.

Christ that would just be my luck.

Married to the mafia Don and him realising he got a faulty prize—a prize he didn't even want to begin with.

He says something but I can't bring myself to listen. I haven't had a panic attack in months when a drunk man tried gripping at my hair in the street and pulling me.

"Daisy..." he says as he crouches in front of me.

"Don't. Just give me a minute" I say not looking into his beautiful eyes.

If only those eyes didn't hold so much blood and power and authority I'm sure I could probably fall in love with them.

"Come," he says as he lifts me into his arms and walks down the hall.

On instinct, my arms wrap around his neck but my chest and throat feel so tight that I feel like someone's put a metal pipe down there and I can't do anything but worry.

I'm on the dramatic side of things tonight.

God, I miss London.

He places me down on the floor and heads out of the bedroom. I don't know if he will come back so I grab my phone and instantly FaceTime C.J. Who looks concerned the moment she answers her phone.

"Daisy? What's going on?"

"I-" I can't even get the bloody words out. What bollox is this?

"Breathe. Hey, hey look at me" she says and I do. She may have only been my best friend for a few years but she knows all about Jerry and everything that has happened to me.

My mom leaving me.

The abuse. The physical and mental scars.

The number of times I have woken in cold sweats and she has been on the bed with me holding my body.

I'm not an idiot. I know the signs but they come on so quickly sometimes that it's hard to tell when the panic is over.

I look directly into the phone and I see her smile at me.

"Is it your new husband? Has he hurt you?"

"No- no I-"

"Jerry?"

"I haven't seen him. My chest.."

"You have to bloody breathe woman. You know what the therapist said about controlling this. You have to relax yourself to stop the tremors and the shaking. He can't do shit to you"

"Him in general C.J. It's him in general" I get out. I know exactly what the therapist has told me to do. I've had it on repeat in my head for the last year and a half.

"Is he in New York? Have you heard from him?"

"No. He's in New York. How do you think he got into bloody shit with the Mafia for starters?"

"Daisy. The man is a waste of oxygen and isn't fit to be called a father. Does he know?"

"Know what?" I ask as I sit on a chair that's in the bedroom. She's in bed and I know I've probably woken her up but she was the only person I could talk to about any of this.

"Don't play dumb. Does your new husband know about what I know?"

"No. He doesn't" I say but it feels horrible because if he had done an extensive search of my background then he would have figured it all out by now.

"Well... I think it's about time you told him" she says as she motions behind me. I look behind me slowly, the panic starts to creep in again just after I become calm and I can only look down at my feet in response.

I turn my head back to the camera and smile. It's a sad smile but it's still a smile nonetheless. "I'll give you a call tomorrow. I'm sorry I woke you up and I'll make sure you're awake and not busy when I plan to call" I say with a smile.

"Okay. Be safe. Love you"

"Love you," I say and hang up but I don't look at the door. I keep my eyes fixed on the beautiful view in front of me. In the far distance, I can see the city of Manhattan and I can make out all the skyscrapers with the moon lighting above it all in a beautiful location.

"Tell me what?" Antonio says but I still don't look his way.

"You married a faulty gift, Antonio."

"A faulty gift?" He chuckles but there isn't any humour to it.

"And how is that Daisy?"

I shake my head but it's like his stealth mode is activated because he's now sitting on the table in front of me without even making a sound.

"I suffer from Anxiety and men. Drunk or high men to be exact. Even women in some cases."

His jaw tics like he's fighting with something inside his mind. As if my words have made him mad.

"Men?" He asks but I can't look at him as I speak.

"I didn't care what you did or didn't do to Jerry. I told you to do what you wanted to him because he wasn't my responsibility and you should have listened and taken the opportunity to do it when I told you to and left me be."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because he's not a good man Antonio"

"Neither am I princess. No one in this house is a good man. And from what I gathered on your call your friend knows everything"

"She does." That is all I say while wringing my hands together with nerves.

"And your therapist too?"

"Kind of defeating the point of therapy if he doesn't know what's gone wrong isn't it?" I laugh trying to lighten the mood but it doesn't work.

When he stays quiet I decide to be truthful to him. It may not be a loving marriage but he doesn't need to know that the demons I carry will come to light and be a problem for him and his family.

"My mom left when I was young. Jerry told me it was because I made her depressed and she couldn't parent me anymore. He switched to booze and drugs, started to get into the wrong crowds, lost his job and then we became homeless for a year. He would hit me but when he sobered up he would buy me something to cheer me up. A bar of chocolate or something but I knew he didn't buy it. He would steal it the same way he would steal alcohol and anything else he could get his hands on."

I don't look his way but I can feel his eyes trained on me so I continue and let it all out.

"When I was 12 he was so wasted that when he came home he threw up everywhere and I cleaned it all up and sat up with him, pulling him back to the edge of the sofa so if he was sick it would be in a bucket. When I was 13 he accidentally pushed me down the stairs because he was so high that he didn't see me. So he said."

Again, silence. He does nothing but stare at me.

"It was my 15th birthday and I tried making some tea for us. He had gotten a job a few weeks before and said we could celebrate my birthday. I took on small local jobs that wouldn't mind doing pocket change and I bought all the things I needed to make a decent meal. He came home and he was high and drunk. I knew it wouldn't last long. His eyes were so bloodshot that I worried he would die so I tried helping him to the kitchen to help sober him up and that's where I got the hand scar. I slipped and knocked into the side and he thought I was doing it on purpose and he stabbed my hand"