Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Take a good, hard look at my face, tesoro,” he bites out, stabbing a finger under his chin. “Is this the kind of face a child wants to see? This is the face of a monster. It’ll give any kid nightmares.”
A vision of Saverio facing me in the back of the car on the way to our wedding flashes through my memory. I burned that image into my mind. I did it for different reasons then, to remind myself that the man who held my fate in his hands wasn’t mine and would never be. Now, the picture serves to remind me how much he lost. He sacrificed his beautiful, invincible body for me.
The man in front of me is a far cry from the man who threatened to carry me down the aisle and marry me at knifepoint. It has nothing to do with the physical changes. What broke him is the damage inside.
I take in what he’s become—a shell of his former self. Every breath I drag into my lungs is painful. I hurt for the man who’s now my husband.
“You’re overreacting,” I say, hating the tremor in my voice.
His laugh is cold. “Am I?” He rips off the eyepatch and looks me dead in the eye. “What do you see, tesoro?” His smile is cruel. “Tell me.”
I see the difference in his eyes, the prosthesis being a deeper, duller blue. There’s no light coming from within. But that’s only because it’s a generic temporary model and not custom-made to fit his own eye. I see the right side of his face where the skin that wasn’t shredded by the debris from the blast was all but melted off his bones. He’s a roadmap of pain and suffering but most of all of survival. What I see when I look at him is a strong, courageous man, a man who gave his life to save the baby he wanted so badly.
Tears well up in my eyes.
“Thought so,” he says, pinning me with a look of victory that says he thinks he’s right, but he can’t hide the bitter disappointment that flickers through the one eye that reflects all his emotions while the artificial one remains oddly dead, devoid of any feelings.
“You underestimate the depth and level of a child’s understanding and compassion,” I say. “Many children grow up with scarred parents, family members, and friends, and they don’t look at them as monsters.”
He makes a mocking sound in the back of his throat. “Imagine her friends when she goes to school and I have to pick her up or take her to parties and ballet practice.” He points at the raised lines that crisscross over his forehead, eye, and cheek. “How do you think they’ll react when Frankenstein walks onto the scene? Have you considered for one moment how it’ll be for Claire to deal with the teasing? She’ll come to hate my face, and she’ll end up hating me.”
“She’ll love your scars because she’ll know they’re the reason she’s alive. I’ll make sure she knows that.”
“Grow up, Anya.” He chuckles. “If that’s what you believe, you’re living in a fucking fairytale.”
I round the desk and stop so close to him he has to wheel the chair sideways and crane his neck to look at me.
“You don’t know how she’ll react,” I say, balling my hands and pinning my arms at my sides. “It’s up to us to explain to her why you look different than other people and why that’s superficial. We’re the adults, and it’s our job to guide her if she has confusing or conflicting feelings. You’re not avoiding us to do Claire or me a favor. You’re doing it because you’re scared, and the man I married isn’t scared of anything.”
“I’ve been many things since I met you,” he says with an unfriendly smile playing on his face. “Scared isn’t one of them. Petrified is more like it.”
“About what?”
The line of his mouth turns hard. “Go away, Anya. You have suitcases to pack.”
“I’m not leaving you. You need me now more than ever. Who’s going to help you with After Dark and the finances if I’m in Europe?”
“Not your problem.”
“Like hell it’s not. You married me. You forced me into this.” I give him a long, hard look. “Now deal with it.”
“We’ll get an annulment.” The corner of his mouth lifts in a gesture close to a sneer. “We haven’t consummated the marriage yet.”
“You want to divorce me?” I ask with disbelief.
“I want you out of my fucking hair,” he bites out.
“Right.” I nod, more pain lancing into my heart. “In Switzerland. For however long I like. Where does that leave us, Saverio? Explain it to me because I’m confused. Are we over? Am I free? Can I see other men? Let them touch me?”