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I frown. “Yes. Of course, he does.”
“Hmm.” He grunts and turns to go back into the room he had emerged from.
“Nonno, wait.” I touch his arm slightly, and he stops. “Why did you have to move out of your house?”
He frowns at me. “And when did you start asking questions,piccola?”
The condescension in his tone reminds me again of the way my father had spoken to me all my life, but I keep a smile on my face. “Valentino said I should ask you…”
Nonno’s eyes flare, and it’s funny to see how much he fears Valentino. “He said that?”
“Yes. He did.”
“Uhm…”
I stare at him with amazement. I’ve never seen my Nonno flounder like this. Obviously, he’s hiding something.
“He gave this house to me as a gift after your wedding.” Nonno forces a smile onto his face. “It would be rude if we didn’t move in. After all, it is much bigger than our previous house, isn’t it?”
Obviously, this house is nothing like the majestic mansion Valentino owns in Italy, but it’s a great house and as Nonno noted, much bigger than our previous home. Even now, as we stand in the foyer, the difference between this house and our former one is clear. It’s spacious, with high ceilings and apolished hardwood floor. There’s a minimalist console table to the left with a sleek silver art piece on it.
“Francesca.” I feel my Mama’s arms curve around me. “Are you staying the night?”
“Yes… for a few days, actually.”
“Did Valentino approve of this?” Nonno asks worriedly.
Maybe you should ask him, I want to say, but I’m too scared of Nonno to say that, so I nod instead and quickly follow my mother up the stairs. When we reach the first landing, Mama leads me to the second door and stops.
“You can sleep here. I had all your things from your old room brought here,” she says.
I push the door open and gasp. She has recreated my old room for me. Tears fill my eyes as I turn and hug her. “Mama, thank you.”
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” she asks, herding me towards the bed.
“What do you mean?”
“No bride comes home to stay for a few days with her mother after her honeymoon,cara. Something is going on between you and Valentino.”
I release a deep, shaky breath. “It’s nothing.”
She catches both my hands in hers and kisses them softly. “I will not let you go down the same path I did, Francesca. Something is wrong, and I want to help you fix it before it becomes irreparably broken.”
I school my expression into one of nonchalance. “What if I don’t want to fix it? What if I want it to get so bad to the point where he gets impossibly frustrated and ends this… this… arrangement of convenience?”
“How about you say that again, but with a straight face this time.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve fallen for your husband, Francesca. Your eyes, cara, they never lie. They tell me everything I need to know.”
I try to laugh gaily, but the sound is harsh and bitter. “Valentino is handsome, and I’m a woman, so it’s easy to want him, but I hate him and everything he stands for. He’s just like papa, he-”
“He’s nothing like your father,” Mama cuts me off. “I would rather have died than let you marry him if he was like your father…”
“What do you know of him, Mama?”
Wrinkles gather on her forehead. “I don’t know much about him, but I can sense a man like your father from a thousand miles away.”