Thirty minutes later when we come back up the stairs, Bella and Ricky run off to their individual rooms to get changed for the day and I use my foot to tap on Giana’s door, balancing a content Caterina on one arm and a second cup of coffee in the other. Giana turns to me with a smile, looking like
The room is silent for a long moment. So long that when I look up at Giana, I’m horribly worried that I’ve said something really offensive – that I’ve gone too far. But when I see the tears starting in her eyes, her red face, I realize that she just has no idea what to say. “Why are you being so
“What?” I sputter, my eyes flashing between them as Christian turns to me and Lucy goes rigid in her place on the floor, her eyes going wide. “What the hell is going on here!?” Christian’s hand softly drifts away from its place on Lucy’s head. “Iris,” Christian says, turning towards me seriously
“No, Christian!” I snap up into his face. “I’m not going to –“ “Iris!” he shouts – and the way he does steals all the words from my mouth. For the second time in as many minutes, I just stare at him, perfectly still, shocked. Christian heaves a heavy sigh, dragging a hand down the length of his
“Drink up, you sissy!” Giana laughs, sipping at the straw of her way-too-strong bloody mary. I just cough, looking askance at mine. “G, this is like 90% vodka, 5% tomato juice, and the rest is horseradish. Honestly, it’s basically clear.” “I am freshly a widow, Iris,” Giana says, even as she lau
“Oh, grow a fucking backbone, Iris,” Giana snaps, whipping towards me to glare at me. “After what he did to you this morning? You’re still scared to do something that’s going to make your ‘sweetheart’ husband angry?” My eyes go wide as I realize that Giana didn’t push me on what happened this morn
The room is tense for a moment before Elio releases a booming laugh. I cringe away from that too – because it’s clearly fake. Too loud, too brash – just meant to break the tension in the room. We all turn towards him, Christian’s threat still alive in the tense lines of his body. “Oh, you two ne
I stand up straight, a little spooked at what’s going to come next. “Do you think you could brew a pot?” Slowly, a little smile comes to my mouth. And I nod to him, pleased to be included, pleased to have something to do, pleased to help. Pleased that he knows that I need something to do with my