Page 7 of Unworthy Ties

Gabriella

I grabbed one of the posts of our bed, using it as a crutch while I stood on my good foot.

Then, I hopped on one foot towards the closet, doing my best to maintain my balance.

I should be resting in bed. But I had a million thoughts running through my head, and Giuseppe was still packed away in a box.

I needed to find my stuffed cat and part-time therapist.

I lost my balance just as I reached the closet, stumbling forward with a gasp. A desperate hand shot out, grasping the doorknob just as my knee buckled. I grimaced, biting back a whimper as my injured foot barely brushed the floor. But I held on, regaining my balance once again.

There were only three boxes left for me to unpack.

I wasn’t sure which one he was in, so I bent down to the one nearest to me and started rifling through it.

A couple of purses, my high school yearbook, a collection of romance books—I made a mental note to hide those where Rocco couldn’t find them—but no Giuseppe.

“Goddamn it,” I muttered, hobbling over to the next box.

The second box was heavier, filled with my photography equipment. I actually spent a lot of my downtime taking photos, but had put it on the back burner since the whole arranged marriage thing. It was hard to find inspiration with a dark cloud looming over me.

Just as I was about to stop, I saw Giuseppe’s grey ear sticking out from under a tripod.

“A-ha!” I said, ripping him out of the box with triumph.

I hobbled back to the bed with Giuseppe cradled in my arms. I felt a pang of relief at his familiar, worn texture. Each small patch and stitch were signs of our shared history, reminders of countless midnight confessions and whispered secrets.

“Do you even know how much you’ve missed?” I said, pointing an accusatory finger at him. As if it wasn’t my fault I packed him into the wrong box.

I carefully set Giuseppe beside me and began to recount the recent events. His button eyes stared back at me, filled with silent understanding. They always knew how to listen.

“Can you believe I just had to get married to him? He’s practically a stranger!” I said, having a one-sided conversation with my stuffed animal.

I stared into Giuseppe’s button eyes, which always gave me a rational perspective, a silent counsel in times of uncertainty.

“Well, no, he’s not terrible, and he is attractive. B-but,” I sputtered, turning bright red. “I’m only attracted to him because of Felix, obviously. If Rocco wasn’t a mirror of his brother, it wouldn’t be like this at all.”

He didn’t respond, obviously.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I said, crossing my arms and falling into the comforter. “What the hell am I going to do?”

I poured my life problems to him for another five minutes before there was a knock at my door. Shit. I hope whoever was on the other side didn’t hear my conversation.

“I have to go. Talk to you later,” I said, feigning a phone conversation in case they could hear me.

After shoving Giuseppe under the pillow I called, “Come in,” trying to sound casual despite my racing heart.

It was probably whatever goon Rocco had hired as a bodyguard for the day. Rocco probably gave him strict instructions that I ate, and it was almost eleven am and I hadn’t left the bedroom.

The door creaked open, and Felix stood there, his strikingly handsome features framed in the soft morning light filtering through the hallway. His green eyes, identical to his brother’s, softened as they met mine.

“Hey,” he said, shooting me a playful smile.

“Hey,” I responded. I tried to match his playfulness, but I couldn’t ignore the pang in my chest as I looked at him. He was everything I had wanted, but now he was everything I couldn’t have.

“Breakfast?” he asked, holding up a bag from a local pastry shop and a steaming cup of coffee. I nodded, the smell of fresh croissants making my stomach growl despite the turmoil in my head.

“Sounds great.”

“Good,” he said, passing me the bag. “Rocco would kill me if I let you starve.”

“Ha, probably,” I agreed, accepting the bag with a grateful smile. The aroma of buttery, freshly baked croissants was intoxicating. Felix moved to sit on the edge of the bed, coffee in hand. He was silent for a while, watching me as I took a tentative bite from a croissant.

It was awkward. I wanted to talk to him, but what could I say? Normally, I had always flirted with him and tried to get his attention, but now things were different.

Felix broke the silence. “Y’know, I still remember how you used to follow me around like a shadow when you were a kid. Every time I turned around, there you were with your wide eyes and pigtails.”

I choked on a bite of croissant, coughing as I tried to swallow. “I did not follow you around. I was just curious about the world. You happened to be in it.”

That was one of the biggest lies I had ever told. At that time, he was my entire world.

Felix chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Is that so? Well, I’m glad to know I was just a part of your worldly explorations.”

“Mhm,” I mumbled, taking another bite of the croissant. The buttery pastry helped to cope with the bitter taste of my own lie in my mouth. I had adored Felix as a child, and if I was honest with myself, I still did.

The question I had been dying to ask was stuck in the back of my throat, like a lump that wouldn’t go away. I looked at him, his tousled hair, green eyes that always had a hint of mischief, his crooked smirk that had always made my heart flutter.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I had to ask. “Why did they choose Rocco?” I blurted out.

Felix’s smile faded, replaced by a serious look that made him seem older, more mature. “He’s more serious and dependable than I am. And he will be a far better husband for you than I ever could be.”

“But—”

He didn’t let me finish, instead choosing to change the subject. “How’d you manage that?” he asked, pointing at my ankle.

Disappointment swept over me as he skillfully deflected my question. But I went along with the change in topic.

“Oh…” I told him the story of how I had rolled out of bed and Rocco helped me wrap it. The part where I used Rocco as a pillow was left out, of course.

“Oh yeah?” he responded, an amused look on his face. “Y’know, Rocco is really a good person. He doesn’t look it, and he certainly doesn’t sound like it with all the gruff growling, but he’s got a good heart.”

“Tch,” I said, not managing to keep the sound of discontent to myself.

Felix’s lips twitched at the corners, a hint of a smile threatening to break free. “What? You don’t agree with me?”

“No,” I pouted, stubbornly crossing my arms while trying to avoid his gaze.

“Well, you’ll see in time,” he responded, waving his hand as if he was waving off my opinion.

We spent the next couple of hours talking about everything and nothing.

The conversation ebbed and flowed like the tide, delving into old memories, shared experiences, and the people we knew.

He told me stories of travel he had to do for work—leaving out the gritty mafia parts—and I found myself lost in his tales of new places and eccentric characters.

He was in the middle of telling me how he was caught in a snowstorm in Oregon when the front door swung open.

Rocco strode in, looking every bit the serious and no-nonsense as I knew him to be.

His dark hair was dripping rainwater onto the hardwood floor, and there was a tension in his shoulders that told me he had not had a good day.

Felix’s tale about the snowstorm promptly died on his lips, replaced by a look of concern. “Rough day, Rocco?”

Rocco ran a hand through his soaked hair, sending droplets flying. He grunted in response, making his way towards the kitchen without so much as acknowledging me.

Felix sighed, watching as Rocco disappeared from view. I felt my heart sink slightly, wondering what could’ve gone wrong in his day.

“Maybe he just needs some time to cool off,” Felix suggested, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

“Maybe,” I murmured, my gaze fixed on the now empty doorway.

The conversation Felix and I had been having fell silent as we heard Rocco rummaging through the kitchen, the clatter of pots and pans echoing through the house. The familiar sound of the coffee maker brewing brought a semblance of normalcy back to the atmosphere.

After a few moments, Rocco reappeared in the living room, a steaming mug of coffee in hand. To my surprise, he sat down right next to me and wrapped his arm around my lower waist, drawing me into him. My face burned red at the sudden and unexpected display of affection from my cold husband.

“Are you… okay?” I asked, tilting my head to look at him. I wondered if he had gotten hit on the head, because he certainly wasn’t acting sane right now. He was willingly showing me affection, something that was out of character for him.

“Uh huh. Thanks for keeping Gabriella company, Felix. You can head out now.”

Felix seemed as taken aback by Rocco’s behavior as I was but nodded nonetheless. “Alright. Call me if you need anything.” He gave me a warm smile before heading out, leaving Rocco and me alone in the quiet house.

I was surprised when Rocco’s hand remained draped around my waist even after Felix left. It was a comforting yet possessive gesture, his grip firm yet gentle.

“What were you and my brother up to?”

My heart skipped a beat, swallowed by the ominous tone of his voice. “We were just talking.”

“That’s all?” His tone was still piercing, the intensity of his gaze never wavering.

“Yes,” I responded, staring at him like he was insane. “Hang on… are you jealous?”

I felt stupid the minute I said it. There was no way he would be; I was just his arranged wife, a mere entity, a contract fulfilling the formalities of a family alliance, nothing more. The thought of him being jealous was incomprehensible.

He simply stared at me, those green eyes deep and unreadable, the silence around us thickening.

“Am I?” His voice was low, almost a whisper. The question hung in the air between us, adding to the tension.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I was unsure if it was because of his proximity, his sudden change in demeanor, or both. His gaze never left mine, his emerald eyes shimmering with an emotion I could not decipher. Yet, there was a glint in them that hadn’t been there before.

“I-” I began, but suddenly found my voice stuck in my throat. He was watching me with an intensity I had not seen before, making the room feel smaller and stifling. “I need to shower!” I blurted out, pulling away from him and standing up on my good foot.

Without saying another word, I hopped to the shower, my heart still pounding in my chest.