Page 75 of Always Mine
“Just as well you feel that way, Mom, because Marco asked me to move in with him. I know it seems reckless and fast. But it feels likethe most natural thing. Like we’ve both felt completely untethered for the last six years, and now everything makes sense.”
“As you get older, you understand sometimes what feels right doesn’t make the most sense, and sometimes what makes the most sense, doesn’t feel right. It’s head versus heart,” she says, tapping the side of my head with one hand, then placing it over my heart. “Here’s the thing. Logic is defenseless when it comes to matters of the heart. I should know. I have been married to the best man I know for over thirty years. He’s also the same bull-headed man yelling down the hall, trying to fight a losing battle with a man very much being ruled by his heart.” She gives me a small, knowing smile, using humor to show me she understands the absurdity of my dad’s behavior.
“Whatever happens, you and Marco will weather it together. We don’t always get it right as parents. So even if you’re mad at your dad right now, I hope that one of the greatest lessons you have learned from us is that love can conquer all.”
She reaches out and softly wipes the tears silently falling down my cheeks before pulling me in for a hug.
“Love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, Sophia. I’m proud of you. Leave your father to me.”
“You’re making a big mistake, Sophia. You’ll regret this.”
I turn towards the low, resigned voice coming from the doorway, the words hitting like bullets. Except this time, they don’t wound deeply enough to make me back down.
“Well Dad, a wise man once told me you can’t please everyone. So I guess we agree on something.”
With that, I grab the first of the boxes that need to go into Marco’s car and walk straight past him and towards the man I love, my heart beating in my chest and tears stinging my eyes.
Sometimes love hurts. Sometimes love heals. Right now it feels like it’s mending and breaking me at the same time.
Chapter forty-eight
Saving Horses
Sophia
ThedrivebacktoMarco’s is pensive. He doesn’t push me to tell him what I spoke about with my mom. I want to ask him about what was in the envelope but I feel emotionally exhausted and the thought of having to deal with anymore drama has me quickly deciding against it. Ignorance is bliss. For the moment, anyway. Besides, I’m a permanent resident of the Marrone household now; there will be plenty of time for me to casually bring this up over dinner. Or in bed before we fall asleep or after we wake up together. A thrill shoots through me;I, Sophia Rose Princi, am moving in with Marco ‘love of my life’ Marrone. My wildest fantasy come true.
Once we get back, we quickly unload the car, taking boxes into the bedroom. Marco is insistent that I unpack later and find my way back into bed with him. Just the thought spikes my anxiety. Even though I avoided unpacking at my parents, there’s no way I can handle being railed six ways to Sunday with boxes staring me down.
“Unpack first. Orgasms later,” I say, firmly inget shit donemode.
“You know what they say about people who need to unpack straight away?” he asks, eyebrows arched and finger pointed at me. “Serial killers.”
“You better watch your back then, baby.”
He chuckles but doesn’t push me to change my mind. “There’s space in the wardrobe and the chest of drawers is empty. I’ll go and grab us some food. Any special requests?”
“Surprise me,” I say as I put on some feel-good tunes and focus on putting away my belongings, taking note how the empty space looks like it has been deliberately left free. All for me?
Some time later, Marco’s voice breaks through the music, interrupting the involuntary bounce of my body to Dom Dolla’s catchy house tunes.
“Look what I found wedged under my seat.”
I spin towards his amused voice to find him leaning against the door frame, clutching a small shoe-box sized package in one hand, mischief gleaming in his bright eyes.
“Toys,” he says, making a deliberate show to read the label, question in his tone.
“Either you have a secret child I don’t know about, or these are yours.”
Sauntering over to him, I pluck the box from his hands. “Ah, you found Max and Charles!”
Un-taping the box, I pull out the little pouch stowed within. Marco is across the room in a flash and plucks the bag from my hands.
“Boy toys,” he says, reading the words printed on the front of the pouch as he unzips it.
Stella gave me this very thoughtful Christmas gift during a man-drought a few years ago. “Yup. That’s Max,” I tell him as he pulls out my rose gold clit-sucking vibrator first, then my pink vibrating dildo. “That’s Charles. I named them after my favorite F1 drivers. Both a dream to drive right to the finish line.”