Tangled In Strings

Chapter Eighteen

I'm too affected by his unraveling that I disregard the fact that he's just told me nothing came of his talk to Tony. My index finger caresses the curve of his face with delicateness, a gentle comfort. The moment his eyes move to mine, offering me a momentary glimpse into the lost disarray swirling within him, he inhales and quickly re-gathers, blinking fervently.

"You know what? Here I am moaning about shit when you have so much more—"

I shake my head, pressing my hand to his mouth.

"Ah, no. Don't disregard what you feel... I don't."

He sighs. "Tell me about you."

"There's not much to tell."

"You haven't seen him, right?"

I shake my head. "No. No, not since that night."

Giovanni's eyes dart from my face to my throat, and his hand caresses the back of my neck.

"And Norman? The job?" His mouth twists wryly. "Ed?"

I begin to smirk, pleasantly surprised to see jealousy in such a confident man. "He said with disdain," I mewl, and he rolls his eyes at my tease. Absentmindedly, I let my hand drift over the soft hairs along his pecks, thinking deeply about the last conversation I had with Norman in my office.

"I think... I think he's really trying. But maybe I'm just falling for what I want to be real."

"And what's that?"

I purse my lips, fighting past the part of me that wants to shut down. "I want to feel like I mattered to someone."

He begins to open his mouth, his eyes widening in disbelief, but I press my hand to his chest.

"I know what you're going to say. But hear me out. I know I matter to you, but that is different." I think hard about how to word what's been going through my mind for days. "My father, the man I thought was my father, didn't give a shit about me. And my mother, well, she did... but it wasn't enough. I didn't matter enough. He did, and that is why she never once tried to run away, never once tried to get her daughter away from him."

I catch my breath. "And that doesn't mean I don't still love her. I do... but things have changed."

He observes me closely, nodding for me to go on.

I swallow, closing my hand into a fist. "I want to feel like I mattered to the person who brought me into this world. I thought I would have to live without that, but now..."

"You have that chance back."

"Except I don't trust him. I'm fucking furious with him... just looking at him makes me mad."

"These things take time. Forgiveness takes time," he presses.

"I don't have time, Gio." I stare at him hard. "I don't have time. He's dying."

"Scarlett..."

"No." I shake my head. "No, I don't want to do this tonight."

He stares at me for a beat and then exhales, smoothing a hand over my hair. I'm sweating from the heat outside and his body, but I don't want to move off of him.

"Let him say what he has to say, Scarlett. When the time is right, you will know what to do. I promise."

I close my eyes, dropping my face to his chest with a groan. "Why are you so good? I'm making you listen about a man who's tried to destroy you."

"He's your father," is all he replies, massaging my tensed nerves.

It's then that the last candle goes out. A darker moonlit glow replaces the warm light we were bathed in, and it suddenly becomes easier to hear the noisy woods outside, the thunder crashing from far away. Giovanni pulls himself out from under me and stands onto lean legs, striding over to the kitchen where the other candles and matches lie. The power went out hours ago when the storm was at its height.