Page 28 of Devour (Blood and Roses #1)
Ariel
I happen to glance out the bedroom window and see him drive away. My emotions spin wildly, completely off their axis and he just left. No note. No goodbye.
He drives off like he didn’t just set my whole body on fire and leave me to burn in the ashes. Like he didn’t kiss me like I was the very air he needed to breathe only to vanish like none of it meant anything.
I’m overwhelmed by so many emotions, but the one I choose to lean into… is anger. Frustrated, I head into the bathroom and strip off my clothes.
The hot water cascades over my skin, but it does nothing to calm the storm inside me. I reach for the jasmine hair wash, working it into my scalp with more force than necessary.
The scent fills the space—floral, soft, hauntingly familiar. Why Jasmine? Why would he stock the bathroom with the one scent he knows I love? Why does he keep doing things that make me feel… seen?
I rinse the lather from my hair, but the questions cling to me more stubbornly than any soap ever could.
Once I’m done with my shower, I dry off and head into the closet to find something to wear. My clothes aren’t here yet, so I have to make do with what’s available and there’s a lot.
My side of the closet is overflowing with rows of clothes, shoes, and bags, all top designer brands. I get whiplash trying to decide what to wear, so I finally settle on the first thing my hand touches: a floral sundress.
It fits perfectly, stopping mid-thigh and hugging my breasts so well I don’t even need a bra. The transparent vanity in the center of the room is filled with jewelry of his and mine.
It makes me wonder how long he’s been planning this. But then again, he’s rich. He could make all of this happen with the snap of a finger.
I open one of the vanity drawers and find rows of hair ties. Smiling like I just found a pot of gold, I pick one up and begin twisting my hair into a quick ponytail.
Then I pause. I don’t need to rush anymore. I’m not in “mum mode” or juggling shifts. But now that I’m married to Luca, I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do. Do I still have my job? Am I allowed to go back?
Sighing, I let my hair down again and returned to the band. At least there’s one thing I know I can do: spend time with my son. That alone feels like a luxury I couldn’t afford before. The thought makes me smile as I head to see him.
He’s doing better than yesterday. His voice doesn’t sound as weak, and the nurse tells me his immune system is responding well to the bone marrow transplant with no signs of infection.
The news lifts my spirits as I make my way downstairs. The warm, mouthwatering smell of bacon hits me first.
“Good morning, Ariel. How was your night?” Griselda asks, a knowing glint in her eye.
“It was fine,” I replied as I sat at the counter.
She piles a plate of toast, bacon, and scrambled eggs in front of me. The scent makes my mouth water. “Griselda, I’m not going to be able to fit through the door if you keep feeding me like this,” I tease.
“You could do with a little more meat on you, my dear. The Falcone men are quite ravenous; you'll need your strength, so he doesn’t wear you down,” she says with a wink.
I feel my face flushed at her words.
“You don’t have to be shy with me,” she adds casually. “Orange juice or milk?”
“Orange juice,” I answered quickly. Then, trying to sound offhand, I ask, “So… does Luca normally leave this late for work?”
She hands me the glass before replying, “Not really. In fact, I was quite surprised. He waited for breakfast and even let me reel him into a conversation.”
She gives me a small smile.
“Being married is good for him. You’re good for him.”
I wish she was right.
“So… what am I supposed to do while he’s gone?”
“Whatever you want around the house. If you need anything, just let me know, I can have someone run out and get it for you. Also, all your things were brought in this morning.
They’re in the storage room for now. We can go through them together and organize everything. I’ll have Noah’s toys sanitized too, so they’re ready when he’s strong enough to play.”
We spent the whole day organizing my things. By the time night fell, Luca still hadn’t come home. I went to bed alone.
In the middle of the night, I felt strong arms wrap around me, pulling me close. But when I woke up the next morning, he was gone again.
The only evidence that he’d been there at all was the rough indentation in the sheets beside me. It went on like that for days. Silent arrivals. Quiet exits. And I don't know what to make of it.