Page 41 of Forsaken Promises
She’s silent for a long moment, her jaw clenched tightly as she stares me down. And then she shakes her head, a bitter smile twisting her lips.
“I’m going back to my father’s house for the day,” she says, her voice cold and flat. “I need time away from you, Dom. Time to be with my family and think about… about everything.”
I feel a surge of irritation at her words, at the way she’s pulling away from me just when I thought we were starting to make progress. But I force myself to take a deep breath, to push down the anger and the frustration and the overwhelming desire to shake some sense into her. Because I know that fighting with her now will only make things worse and will only drive her further away.
“Fine,” I say, my jaw clenched. “Go. Spend as much time with your father as you can. I know how important he is to you, especially with his health.”
She nods, her eyes darting away from mine as if she can’t bear to look at me. I feel a surge of disappointment wash over me, a bitter realization that we seem to take two steps back for every forward one.
I thought we were making progress, that the passion and the tenderness of our lovemaking was a sign that we were finally starting to heal, to move past the wounds of the past.
But now… now it feels like we’re right back where we started, with Sofia pulling away from me, with the walls between us higher and thicker than ever before.
As she turns to leave, I can’t help but wonder if she’ll ever truly forgive me. If she’ll ever be able to look at me without seeing the ghost of my past indiscretions, the specter of all the women I’ve left behind.
Her father won’t be happy if she fucks up this arranged marriage. Not when there’s so much on the line, not when he’s dying and the future of the Marino Family hangs in the balance.
But maybe that’s what Sofia needs. Maybe a harsh dose of reality from the man she respects and admires most will be enough to shake her out of this endless cycle of resentment and recrimination.
Maybe it will be enough to make her see that holding on to the past will only poison our future, will only destroy any chance we have at happiness together.
I don’t know. I don’t have any fucking answers anymore.
All I know is that I love her, that I will always love her, no matter how much she tries to push me away, no matter how many times she throws my mistakes back in my face.
And I’ll keep fighting for her, for us. Even if it means swallowing my pride and my anger, even if it means bearing the brunt of her pain and her disappointment.
Because she’s worth it, worth any price, any sacrifice.
And I’ll be damned if I let her go without a fight.
19
SOFIA
Istand in front of the mirror, carefully applying my makeup and smoothing down my hair. I want to look presentable for my family, want to give the impression that everything is fine, that my new life as a married woman is everything I’ve ever dreamed of.
But as I stare at my reflection, I can’t help but feel a sense of unease, a nagging doubt that tugs at the edges of my mind. Is this really what I want? Is this the life I’ve always imagined for myself?
I look down at the large diamond engagement ring on my finger, the stone twinkling in the morning light. It’s a beautiful piece, a symbol of the wealth and power of the Sicura Family. But it feels heavy on my hand, like a weight that I can’t quite bear.
I twist the ring nervously, my fingers brushing against the cool metal of my wedding band. Should I take them off? Would it be a sign of disrespect, a slap in the face to my new husband and his family?
I hesitate for a moment, my heart racing as I consider my options. But then I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. Who am I kidding? My parents would be furious if I showed up days after my wedding without my rings on. They’d see it as a sign of weakness, a lack of commitment to my new role as a Sicura wife, a slap in the face to my father’s wishes.
So I leave the rings where they are, a glittering reminder of the life I’ve been forced to choose, the path others have set me on. I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders as I head downstairs.
As I step outside, I call the Sicura driver, instructing him to ready the car for my journey home. But as the word “home” leaves my lips, I feel a pang of uncertainty, a sense of displacement that I can’t quite shake.
Is it really home for me now, now that I’m married, now that I’ve left behind the life I’ve always known? Or is it just a place I used to belong?
No, that’s ridiculous. My father’s house will always be my home.
As I make my way down the paved driveway, the morning breeze caresses my skin, providing a welcome respite from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. The rhythmic clacking of my heels against the concrete is almost soothing, a steady beat that helps to calm my racing thoughts.
But as I approach the six-car garage where the driver is waiting, I catch sight of a man who seems entirely out of place. He’s tall and dark, with a brooding intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. Despite myself, I can’t help but admire his rugged good looks, the way his chiseled features seem to be carved from marble.
Guilt washes over me almost instantly, a bitter reminder that I’m a married woman now. I shouldn’t be noticing other men, shouldn’t be letting my heart race at the sight of a handsome stranger.
