I'm embarrassed. Hateful. Pained. Enraged. Horrified.

My body shakes at the force of my emotions. My eyes scan over to the towering dark trees across the large field behind Maria's home, behind the adjoining apartment Giovanni and I have been staying in.

I chose the spot, expecting he wouldn't find me there, yet he does. Of course he does.

When I feel him approaching, I stop pacing and look up at him in the dark, our only sources of light being the moon and a dull flickering light outside the apartment. He's alone, thankfully. My chest expands.

"I'll be alright in a moment," I tell him firmly, my throat tight. I've gathered myself together in my solitude.

He finally speaks after minutes of watching me. "Scarlett."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"If you just push it back..." he looks down, "it might help you to talk about it."

I laugh, angry. "Yeah, no. It definitely wouldn't."

"Scarlett, I've seen you have nightmares. Nothing like this. This was an extremely vivid dream. You were screaming–"

"This is what I was talking about, Giovanni." My wounded soul is intent on giving myself a beating, intent on making him take it too.

"What do you mean?"

I begin to move again, gliding across the soft grass with bare feet. "Moving in with you. This is what I was telling you." I stop. "This is a reality for me. Those kinds of dreams, that kind of fear, is normal for me, Giovanni."

"I didn't know that," he replies. "It still doesn't change anything."

"It does. It changes everything." I place my hands on either side of my throbbing skull, and my fingers find my temples. "I've fooled myself into–"

"Nothing."

I stop and stare. He shrugs.

"You've fooled yourself into nothing, Scarlett. This meltdown you are having is your insecurity, your fear throwing you off."

"And those things make me who I am, Giovanni. I will always feel them."

"I won't let you feel them!"

"That's not how this works!" I shake my head. "You have some notion in your head, this notion that I'm going to change, that I'm going to one day feel better about all of this shit, and it's just not going to happen. It isn't!"

He exhales, holding out his hands in front of him, steeling himself. "That isn't true–"

"You can't save me from this, Giovanni!"

He comes back at me with the same amount of heat, his eyes widening. "No, you have to do that for yourself, Scarlett! I told you once that I wasn't here to save you, that I want to see you overcome your own demons. I do; I want to see that. I'd be privileged to see that. And what's more is that I fucking know you're strong enough to fuck it all." He breathes in. "And I know none of this is easy. To move on from something you've struggled with your entire life is nearly asking the impossible, but for us to move forward, you have to try, Scarlett. If you don't, we'll never last. We won't make it."

My mouth feels glued together. I don't think my eyes could extend any further. My hands rest against my hips, my chest barely moving. I watch him wrestle with his frustrations, his unhinged emotions, his own fear from afar. He runs a hand through his hair and approaches me.

"I know I put too much on you."

I smile, so infuriated with myself that stupid tears fill my eyes. "That's the funny part. You didn't. You introduced me to a loving, wonderful family, Giovanni. A family that loves you unconditionally, a family that always will. It was beautiful to see you with them. I should have been happy to... to see that..."

Something in his eyes makes me believe he can cut straight through my words to find their true meaning. He steps up to me, observing me silently. I force myself to keep his gaze, biting hard on my mouth. Somehow that keeps me together.

A low hum of resistance buzzes in my throat when he reaches up to clasp my face. Even with my cheek turned from him, I sense his eyes. His thumbs lightly trace my face.

"You have family, Scarlett."

His words break me. I weaken to him, tilting my face back to find his eyes. They are filled with things I expected to see and things I didn't. There's pity, loving compassion, well-hidden anger, the effects of realizations. But what guts me to see is the water brimming along his eyelids, accompanying his pleading gaze.

He presses his head to mine. "And I will love you unconditionally. Always."

"Stop. Please."

He pulls back, staring down at me. "It kills me to see you like this."

I lift my gaze to the sky, breathing out deeply. Despite the force of my blow, the air deflates shakily as I struggle with myself. "It would be selfish of me... to move in with you. To put you through this before I've gotten a handle on it."

"No, it wouldn't. It wouldn't."

I begin to loosen myself from his grip, and he exhales.

"You're scared. I understand that."

"Do you?" I wipe my face hastily. "I don't think you can understand it. You're telling me that you're my family. That you will love me unconditionally like a family member would... do know how what it's like to hear someone say that, after the life I've witnessed? The people I've encountered? How fucking scared that would make me at the thought of losing it?"

"You're not going to."

God, it feels like we've had his argument fifty times before. It always comes back to haunt us.

"Sometime this is going to get old. That's an inevitability."

"No, because in time, we'll be able to talk through this. At some point, you won't run from me."

"And you know this how?"

His gaze is searing. "Because you'll have a damn ring on your finger."

I flinch. Literally flinch at his words.

The slim lines of water rimming his eyelids glisten in the moonlight.

"I will marry you, Scarlett, right now if I have to, to prove that point to you." He shakes his head. "I'm not going anywhere."

I gawk at him, feeling the blood draining from my face. "I don't want marriage. I don't want children, Giovanni. I don't. I won't lie, if I could bring myself to imagine those things again, there's no one I'd want but you. But honestly, I've done the wife thing. What did that get me? I was shackled to Dixon. I almost didn't get away."

"I am not Dixon."

"I'm not saying you are. You know you aren't him, Giovanni. Come on!"

"I'm... sorry to interrupt–"

I look around Giovanni as he pivots, finding his aunt walking up to us. I notice him tense as I do. He holds up his hand.

"Zia, this is between Scarlett and me."

"Your friends want to say goodbye."

"We're in the middle of something, and it's private," he states firmly, clearly angry and frustrated and upset. I look down with shame.

"Giovanni, darling... Go inside and let me speak with Scarlett."

"What? So you can probe more information from her? So your curiosity gets peaked?"

As his anger unleashes onto her, I cut in, not wanting him to say something he'll regret before our last day here. "Giovanni, it's alright. Go say goodbye."

He remains frozen, his eyes locked on mine for quite some time, lacking any restraint. He turns with a fury, storming toward the house. I watch him, blinking slowly.

"I'm sorry. He's just upset with me," I apologize, hating that my cheeks are aflame. I hope she can't tell in this dim light. She shakes her head, smiling a small smile.

"I haven't shown you my garden yet, have I?"

Garden? She wants to show me her garden—now? "Um, no. No, not yet."

"Come." She links her arm with mine to bring me close. It's just a swift turn of the corner of the villa, and we're surrounded by fragrant flora. She leads me over the stone pathway, pointing at certain plants, divulging their growth patterns, interesting facts about them. I listen intently, and somehow, her voice, which she's lowered to a calm, soothing coo, makes the shaking, the frantic heartbeat slow considerably.

I know it's a calming mechanism. She's distracting me, and it's working. But at some point, she's going to come forward with the real reason she's talking to me.

I enjoy the relaxed banter while I can, even finding a way to smile at her obsession with white truffles, a rare delicacy that miraculously grows with abundance on her land. Those little shapes of pungent fungus are enough to support an entire home-based business.

"Tomorrow is your last day. I will make sure I make dinner with some truffles. Your life will not be the same... see how aromatic they are?"

She hands me one, urging me to smell it.

"I sell these at cinquemila... I'm sorry, five thousand per pound."

My head cocks in disbelief. "Five-thousand? Really?"

She nods, smiling. "Giovanni's help with money can only go so far with a place of this size. This helps me live nicely."

I'm not surprised at all to hear Giovanni sends her money. I hand her back the truffle and she places it into a seal-tight tin container. I twist my fingers neurotically, preparing myself for a conversation I'm not ready to have.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I never fall asleep like that. It must have been a carb overload or jet lag... I don't know. I hope I didn't ruin the night."

"You shouldn't apologize for something you had no control over. You didn't ruin anything." She gravitates to a stone bench, patting the space beside her. "I, however, owe you an apology."

"You?"

She nods, crossing her hands on her lap. "When Giovanni told me to refrain from asking you about your life, I figured he was doing so because you were shy. I figured I could shake you from that, simply because I want to know the woman my nephew has chosen to share his life with. It's occurred to me now, after seeing what I did earlier, that... you are secretive about your life for a darker reason. Am I right?"

Shit. I swallow, flushing. "Yes."

"Your father too? As well, your husband hurt you?"

Resentment for them builds in my torso, and somehow that initiates tears to be shed. I wipe them quickly. "Yes."

She reaches out, grabbing my clenched hands with one of hers.

"It must have been hard for you to come here."

"I have been excited to meet Giovanni's family," I say quickly. Too quickly.

"My nephew has been blessed with many people who love him. Not just us, but a world that loves him too. It saddens me, after meeting you, to know you've been shunned by the world and a family too."

I breathe in. "I-I take him for granted. We've just reconnected, and I'm already making his life difficult. And I've spent six months wanting only for us to be together. I convinced myself that if it were to miraculously happen again, I would be better. I would try harder. And–"

"And it's not that easy."

I shake my head. "There are some things I can't force."

"You don't want to get married again."

I wonder how much she heard of our conversation. Giovanni's words are still haunting. I wonder how much of it he meant and how much was said out of desperation.

"No. No, I don't... I don't want children either," I tell her truthfully. "Not because I don't like them. I just have nothing to give to a child."

"I can see why you'd think that... but it's not true. From what you've told me, you have witnessed what it is like to grow up in a toxic household. There's probably no one better than you to teach a child how to be loved the right way."

She catches me shifting uncomfortably and smiles.

"Giovanni will accept whatever you want to do."

I'm just glad she's moved off the topic of children. "What makes you say that?"

"It was the look he got on his face when he heard you cry out in your sleep. I don't know how to describe it. It... it was like he was in pain too."

I feel sick. I have to look away from her.

"He was frantic, searching everywhere for you when you ran out... I've known him his entire life, and never once have I seen him care about anything as much as I've seen him care about you. What he was saying just now... he means it, Scarlett."

She reaches out, pulling me to her chest when she notices that I cannot stop my mouth from its insistent quivering. My shame bubbles within me, and the minute my head is against her shoulder, her hands stroking my hair with a motherly gentleness, I lose my ability to remain calm.

She rocks me as I fall apart, holding her tightly, shaking her body by the force of my sobs.

"It's alright, darling. Let it out."

As the time passes, her soft coos change to a pretty melody she hums. My need for her comfort makes me able to get past the embarrassment of forcing her to listen to my drones of sadness.

It's actually minutes later when I pull myself away from her, sucking in a sharp inhale as I nearly jump to my feet reactively. I'm unsure why my heart is racing as I wipe my face ungracefully, attempting to collect myself.

I shuffle a few feet away from her, hearing my own swallow. She stands up with a small knowing smile on her lips. My eyes flicker from the ground to her over and over again, uncomfortably.

"I'll give you some time for yourself."

"Thank you, Maria," I blurt out as she begins to walk through the garden back towards the house. She turns to me and nods kindly before retracing her pathway. When she's out of the clearing, I fall back onto the stone bench with a thud.

The embarrassment I didn't allow myself to feel moments ago drapes over me like a cloak. I hold my burning cheeks. She has to want something better for Giovanni; she has to. She must think I'm beyond repair.

God, maybe I am.

Not knowing how late it truly is, I remain where I am, focusing on the brightness of the night sky instead of the tormenting conflicts happening within. For a brief moment, I'm content. And then, I'm on my feet, walking back towards the house, tail between my legs.

When I enter the villa, there are no noises, indicating that everyone probably ran out of here at the first chance they could. I walk through the hallways, my arms wrapped around my torso tightly, poking my head into the rooms.

I halt when I catch sight of him in the sitting room. Luca is reading a book beside him. Giovanni is lounged defiantly on the couch, clearly upset, his long legs bent out before him. A glass of some liquor is in his hand, resting against the couch.

His eyes dart to mine, and despite his angry posture, his eyes reveal only concern. Luca looks up and immediately shuts his book, rising. I think he was offering silent support to his cousin.

As I stop in the doorway, Luca comes up to me, resting a hand on my arm. He leans in, kissing my cheek. "Goodnight, Scarlett."

"Goodnight," I whisper, appreciating his kindness. He leaves us alone then, and I hear him flicking off the lights in the house. I immediately cross the room and look down at Giovanni, trying to find the right thing to say. Something that will make all the things I said outside somehow better.

Nothing seems good enough.

I bend down between his legs, resting my cheek against one of his thighs, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. My hand holds his calf weakly as my heart pounds loud enough to hear.

After a moment, his fingers begin to gently comb my hair back. We don't speak for a long time, just sitting like that.

"Did you really mean what you said outside?" he finally asks. Something inside of me sinks.

"I don't know."

...

My arms tighten around the pillow as I stare out the window into the night, which now shows no stars, only drizzling rain and clouds. There is a slow roll of thunder in the distance. It's nearly three in the morning, and I haven't even attempted to close my eyes, the nightmare too fresh in my brain. I know the minute I close them, I'll see a haunting image of my father.

The fact that Giovanni and I didn't say much before coming back to the apartment hasn't helped either. It was clear he was upset; he also couldn't get into bed fast enough.

I'm probably driving him insane.

Maybe he wishes we didn't reconnect.

Maybe he wishes he hadn't invited me here. I wouldn't blame him.

Unable to sit still anymore, I push aside the covers and decide to watch the storm. I don't wish to wake him, so I keep the lights off as I exit the front door onto the slim patio. My feet step in cold rainwater that the storm has blown onto the wooded porch. I sit on one of the metal chairs, pulling my knees to my chest. The downpour crashes into the railing of the structure, sending mists off of it and onto my face.

I welcome the feel of it, closing my eyes.

When I reopen them, finding I'd dozed off, Giovanni is bending down before me to pick me up out of the chair. The storm is coming down even harder. He cradles me to his chest, pressing his warm cheek to my forehead as he brings me back inside.

"You're sopping wet," he says disapprovingly as the door squeaks loudly before slamming shut behind us. I press my face into his neck, relieved that he's even holding me. I actually am cold.

"Why were you out there?" he asks, setting me down on my feet. I shake my head incoherently as he pulls my nightgown up over my head. He reaches onto the chair, grabbing one of his shirts. My eyes watch the bare muscles of his torso twist and move at his actions, descending to the dark pajama pants he's wearing.

It's impossible not to marvel at his beauty.

He helps me get the shirt over my head, knowing I'm barely awake, and picks me up again. He sets me onto the bed, pulling back the covers further as I shuffle under them, turning onto my side. He climbs in right behind me, and my heart soars when his hand immediately flattens against my stomach to tug me back into him. His knees rest against the back of my bent ones, his face pressing into my shoulder.

My hair is wet, but he doesn't complain about it.

I slide my hand down to his against my stomach, simply resting my fingers between his. He closes them together.

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

I nod slowly. I know he feels it.

"You don't. I know you don't."

I have no clue what to say to that. I swallow, about to apologize, when he speaks again.

"I'm... angry with you."

Fuck. "I know."

"You've had a rough night, and I understand that. I don't know what's going through your mind. But you scared me. I'm still scared."

"You scared me too, Giovanni." I tilt my face to him. "You told me you wanted to put a ring on my finger so I wouldn't run from you anymore."

"I don't know what else to do, how else to show you." His arm pulls me in tighter. "You're not getting rid of me. I am in this, Scarlett. On your good days and on your shitty days, like tonight, I'm here... Trying to dissolve all the progress we've made is not going to get me to give up on you."

"I–"

Dammit, Scarlett. Speak.

"Tell me," he whispers, knowing I'm holding back.

There's only one phrase in my mind. Only one answer. It's one he's heard before.

And it's the reason for all the running. It's the reason I feel better off alone.

To say the words feels demeaning but to deny their truth is to deny the fact that they haunt me every day of my life.

"Tell me."

"I'm not worth this trouble."

He stiffens behind me and, feeling laid out, I quickly speak up again.

"Don't say anything. I don't want you to sit here and coax my spirit, even try to convince me. It won't work. And that's not why I said it... I just want you to know why I fight this sometimes. That's all."

When he doesn't speak for ages and also doesn't relax, I panic in my own silence, waiting for him to turn the other way or push me away, finally over dealing with my twisted soul.

He scoots back, and I stop breathing.

His hand escapes my grasp.

He's not touching me at all, and I'm instantly terrified. I lay immobile, unable to move.

And then his hand reaches over my shoulder, grasping my chin. I turn my face with his hand, swallowing with difficulty. His gaze is strong enough to search my soul, finding the lies and truths. What little light the lamp outside provides frames his body, illuminating him sitting upright, staring down at me.

"Trouble or not, you're mine, Scarlett."

He doesn't give me time to react. Time to speak. Time to breathe.

He bends, taking my mouth with a swiftness. It's not rough, nor is it gentle. I begin to realize that it's an act of defiance to my words, to my entire argument tonight.

His lips claim me.

And I let them, falling right back into the security of his love. I know in doing that, my words don't become suddenly meaningless, but they are pushed back, like all the rest of my memories.

He knows my thoughts.

And he's answering me. Just not in the way I expected.

He pushes back the covers, not tearing his mouth from my own. I'm glowing with relief as he moves over me, licking into my mouth with deep, wanting strokes. We fall into a routine that is like breathing for us.

Getting each other's clothes off: easy.

Foreplay: just as easy.

And yet, as he slides between my open legs and guides himself into me, stealing all breath from my lungs, it's suddenly very hard.

Maybe it's his eyes.

Boldly locked on my own, making me unwilling to look away. My hands, which rest on his back, slacken as wariness seizes my ability to function and react.

How much of this can he take?

You fought to get him back, and now you don't even know how to keep him.

"Scarlett."

I blink, feeling his hand cup the back of my neck. I study his face as he watches his fingers graze over the pale skin of my throat. He's simply within me, not moving. I feel the weight of his cock, filling every inch of me, and marvel at the thought of how right now, we're one. We're complete.

Even the length of his body on mine. The way his hand feels flattened against my own. The way his lips always perfectly graze between mine when we kiss, like yin and yang.

But the feel of him inside me, there is no emotion, no feeling to describe it.

He kisses the skin concealing my heart softly, and then meets my gaze.

"You're under my thumb, Scarlett, as I am under yours. You submit to me, as I do to you. It's not normal what this is between us."

I shake my head. "No, it's not."

"And I won't lie. I plan to marry you someday," he whispers after a moment.

It's just an admission, not meant to frighten me. It's not a proposal.

"But for now, to just be a part of your world is enough."

Fucking hell.

My swollen eyes burn as he wipes the falling tears, kissing me deeply.

"You are my world, Giovanni," I whisper back to him, my voice thick with the remains of the night from hell. His features seem to crack at my admission, and I hear him sigh with relief.

"Let me make love to you."

I nod, my grip tightening on his back. "Yes."

With every pump of his cock, the nightmare fades. The fight fades. The restlessness fades. He moves within me, slow and deep, taking full advantage of the good ol' missionary position, never once tearing his eyes from mine.

So overwhelmed by the mere thought of him, it really only takes the weight of his virile lower half rocking between my hips and the steadiness of his gaze to find myself building to the throws of pleasure.

My fingers dig into his back, appreciating the curve of his spine, the firmness of his ass as I guide him into me, wanting more.

"Giovanni," I breathe, locked onto his midnight eyes.

"Scarlett," he breathes back, and so close, he cannot keep his eyes open any longer.

Accompanying the thunder outside, our soft moans of release fill the small room as we succumb to the fleeting burst of happiness one can only get when joined to completion with a lover. He lifts his head in the darkness, and I almost attempt to reach over to turn on the light, if only to catch the flush on his cheeks before it's gone.

My eyes close tiredly, oddly contented as his fingers drift over my cheek.

"You think you aren't worthy," he whispers, pressing his mouth below my ear just for a moment. I still. His breath is warm against my throat. "God, I wish you could see yourself from my eyes. It's infuriating you cannot see how goddamn special you are."

"You bring out the best in me," I confess, warming from his tenderness. My fingers grab a healthy fistful of his silky curls. "It's only moments like this that I feel it, when I can feel your eyes on me. Sometimes... I feel that just a look from you can heal me."

Even in the dark, I catch his smile. "Well, I'm looking, baby."