by Alta Hensley
When he was done and had filled the tub, he said, “Go ahead, undress and get in.” He turned his back to give me privacy which made me smile. He already had seen me naked, but his gentlemanly ways right now pleased me.
I quickly shed my clothes and eased into the steaming water, moaning slightly.
“Is the water too hot?” he asked, worried.
“It’s perfect. Simply perfect.” I lowered myself all the way in and closed my eyes, savoring how the heat removed all the aches and pains. The steaming water seemed to strip what remained of the sickness completely out of my body. “Thank you.”
He moved to my head with a bottle of shampoo and began lathering it into my hair, his fingers massaging my scalp. Heaven. Pure Heaven. I thought about stopping him and doing it myself, but just couldn’t bring myself to do so. It felt so good… so good.
As he worked at washing the tangles, he said, “You have really pretty hair.”
My reply was a cough that I had been trying to hold back, but I couldn’t any longer.
“I think after your bath, you should spend the rest of the day in bed. But after today, I think you’ll be fine to move about the house, just as long as you take it easy.”
He rinsed my hair and began washing my back and arms, dipping the washcloth into the soapy water with each pass. “I saw you have books from downstairs by your bed. Do you like to read?”
I nodded and smiled. “I do. Very much. My mother was an avid reader and she taught me how to fall in love with books before she died. I lose myself in the story. I feel like I disappear and go someplace different. It’s nice.” The memory of my mother made me sad, but I refused to go down that dark road. I’d closed that door to my life, locked it, and thrown away the key.
“I find that not too many people take the time to read books anymore. Everyone is so busy and lost in the now. Maybe we can share our favorite books and discuss them sometime.”
His statement seemed odd. Never had a man suggested spending any time together that didn’t involve sex or… ‘lost in the now’. The innocence of his comment took me by surprise, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. Luckily, a loud cough answered for me. The cough was powerful enough that it rocked my body hard enough to cause water to splash onto the floor.
Matthew patted my back softly. “Try to take a deep and calming breath. I’m right here.” He kept patting my back until the cough subsided.
“Thank you,” I wheezed.
“We’ll get you some more medicine after your bath.”
I nodded. “It seemed to help.”
He paused in washing me, holding his hand still in the sudsy water. I wondered if he would move his hand lower and turn the innocent bath into something much more. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and walked over to grab a towel. He held it open wide for me to step into but turned his head to not watch as I did so. Again, the chivalrous act of giving me the courtesy of privacy, made me smile. “Let’s get you back in bed before you catch a chill.”
He wrapped the towel snugly around my body as I studied his every move. Even though he was extremely focused on what he did—a level of control at all times, he seemed so warm and friendly. I liked that about him. I liked that he wasn’t at all what I had learned to expect from him. This was a different and welcomed side.
He smiled at me before giving me a playful swat on my bottom. “Come on now. Back to bed.”
When he had me tucked in nice and tight, he turned to leave.
“Matthew? Please don’t leave. I’ve been going stir crazy lately with you gone. I could use some company.” Maybe it was asking too much, but I wasn’t tired, and I didn’t want to simply stare at the ceiling for the remainder of the day and night.
He paused for a moment as if considering the idea. He nodded with a smile and pulled up the wooden chair, so it rested beside my bed and sat down. “All right. I think I can stay for a while. The work I was going to do today can wait.” He reached out for my hand and patted it softly. “You come first.”
17
Aria
We remained together for hours. Casually talking about our likes and dislikes, our views on life, what made us become the people we were today, and where we wanted to be in the years to come. I could count on one hand the amount of people I could easily open up to and talk freely with, and now Matthew had somehow become one of those people.
This demon.
This monster.
My kidnapper…
Our narrative morphed in the most twisted of ways.
Enemies to lovers.
Fear to comfort.
Foe to friend.
And even though he was doing me a favor by keeping me company, it seemed as if he too was enjoying the time getting to know the simple things about me. His intelligence challenged me but didn’t overwhelm me either. I had read many of the same books he had, and I was proud that I could have conversations about them with him. I wouldn’t ever call myself dumb—my mother had made sure I wasn’t. It had been a very long time since I’d gotten to show off some of the intelligence I kept tucked away. And it appeared Matthew appreciated it. He seemed to really value my opinion and insight on every topic we discussed. For the first time in my life, I was connecting with a man intellectually rather than just being considered a rich, spoiled mafia princess. It was new, uncharted, and I liked it a lot.
“So, tell me something more. Deeper. Tell me about shadows in your past,” he said. He didn’t come across as nosey or ready to cast judgment. He genuinely seemed to want to know. Our casual conversation led us to this point. He wanted to really know more about me than just what appeared on the surface.
This was the most attention anyone had given me in a very long time, unless you counted drunk Scrabble with Tennessee.
“I guess you could say my shadows are more like my demons. My father being the worst demon of them all.” I took a deep breath. “He killed my mother. He claims it was an enemy who did it. That he did everything he could to protect her, and that he would make the killer pay. My father thinks I was too young to remember and even if I did, he could change the narrative so I would start to believe his words if he said them often enough. It wasn’t like I had much of a life to ruin at the time, but he managed to destroy whatever pathetic life I did have on that day.”
Matthew nodded as if he already knew this story. I was pretty sure it was no secret in the world they all lived in. Regardless, I hadn’t ever spoken of my father or mother, but it actually felt right… freeing.
“Was your father cruel to you and your mother always?”
I nodded. “Yes, I think that is pretty fair to say. But my mother told me he wasn’t always that way. She said he was a good man at one time, but his dark life had beaten him down. That jewelry box I took with me when you… when you took me… it’s all I have left of her. Inside, is a letter that I didn’t read until after she died.” I looked at Matthew cautiously. “Would you like to read it?”
When he nodded silently, I reached for the small box that was kept under my bed. Opening it, I pulled out a folded paper and handed it to him. Repositioning my body comfortably back in bed, I said, “Go on and read it.”
He took a moment to study my expression. “Are you sure? You don’t have to let me read this. It’s none of my business, and just because I have you here doesn’t mean—”
“I want you to. I want you to meet my mother.” I smiled widely even though tears were already forming in my eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Matthew, my new friend, gently opened the folded paper.
* * *
My dearest Aria,
I want to start this letter off by telling you that Mama loves you. I am so proud of the lovely lady you have become. I love you. I love you more than you can possibly imagine.
I bet you wonder why I speak of love so easily when you have grown up seeing anything but between your father and me. You have seen hate, cruelty and misery from a man we are supposed to love. For that I will forever be sorry t
o you. You should have never had to grow up with so much heartache, pain, and darkness all around you. I tried to shield you from the pain at first, but even my motherly protection could not save you from your father’s demons. And that is what they are—demons.
He wasn’t always this man you know and most likely hate. I fell in love with a man who, although could have moments of darkness, had more good than bad. His heart was cracked, but I thought I had the ability to cure him. I thought I could heal the pain that caused him such internal nightmares. I was wrong. The crack only grew, and the darkness overtook whatever kindness I once saw in your father.
I fell in love with him as a young girl. He was a few years older than me and felt he had to protect me from all the bad in the world. We used to sit for hours and hours talking about our hopes and dreams. He wanted to have a large farm with cows, horses, and rows and rows of wheat for as far as the eye could see. I know this seems crazy considering who he is now, but it’s the truth. He wanted ten children—which I always argued against but would have given him had he remained the person I fell in love with. Your father had a tough life. He grew up in the life of crime, and it chose him whether he wanted it or not. His two older brothers beat him daily. He almost died one summer because a brother of his took a pistol to his head. His father did nothing because he believed it would make him become a stronger man. I was the only one your father had to count on. Everyone in his life showed him hate, but I chose to show him love.
I’m not excusing your father for his violence, only hoping I can explain some of the reason for it. And I want you to know that he changed. I guess there is a part of me that thinks with enough love and patience from you and me… as well as forgiveness, he may change once again. He may someday be the man I once loved. It may not be too late for him to be the father that you deserve. And if that day does not happen in this lifetime, then I am sorry. I am sorry you never got to meet the man that I did.
He was a good man.
But I have no regrets. I loved. I lived. I didn’t hide from my feelings and my beliefs. And I did love your father. I still do. I allowed my heart to go to him freely, and because of that, I got you. You are my one true love, and I would suffer whatever consequences God has in store in order to get the treasure I have in you. Being a mother is the greatest gift and achievement anyone could receive. There is a love for your kin stronger than words can explain. I would die for you. I would give my very last breath just so you can be happy. I love you so very much.
I worry that because you have grown to see such venom, you will never allow your beautiful heart to love. Or that you will feel you deserve the same sort of man as your father. Or worse yet, that you won’t believe that love can exist. It can, my little Aria. It can. There will be a man who will love you for everything that makes you you. There will be a man who can lead, who can protect, who can offer you his entire heart. There will be a man who can give you a child, or children, so you can experience the joy I have had in raising you. He will give you a home.
I don’t know if I will still be alive when you read this letter. I hope so. I hope that I am around when you find the man of your dreams and get married. I hope I can be a grandmother to your children and help guide you in their upbringing. But if I can’t, if I am no longer there for you, please take my words and my advice to heart.
Be a fighter, but know when to ask for help. Stay strong, but understand when being vulnerable is more powerful. Be a woman who can take care of herself, but also maintain the ability to allow a man to help. And love, Aria. Truly love and never hold back.
Life is not always easy, as you already know. But I do not want you to grow hard.
Stone.
Cold.
I do not want you to feel like you can’t allow the softness to shine through. Allow the delicate to merge with the rugged. Please, my loving daughter, do not let the shadows of life darken your soul forever. Please.
I write this letter while you sleep, and your soft delicate features fill me with so much pride. I love you, my daughter. I love you so very much. My one true wish is that someday you will feel this same level of affection and devotion.
Forever loving you,
Your Mother
* * *
Matthew folded the letter with great care, placed it back in its protective box, and looked up to meet my tear-filled eyes. I didn’t have to read the letter to know what it said. I had memorized every single line of the letter and could quote it word for word.
“Oh, Aria. I…” He stopped and swallowed hard. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
“The sad thing,” I said softly, “is I still hate my father. Even though she didn’t when she wrote the letter. I hate him so much. She had no idea that he would shoot her dead.”
“True. It seems that she loved him very much and never gave up hope that they could find the love again,” he agreed. “Do you know why he shot her?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. He began raging over something like always, and she sent me out of the house like all the other times. She never wanted me to see him beat on her. But this time, I not only heard her cries and screams, I heard the bang of his gun. I wonder if she finally had enough and stood up to him. Maybe she told him she would leave. I like to imagine that she left the world that day feeling strong. She stood her ground.”
“No doubt about it. It sounds like your mother was a very strong woman but also a romantic one who didn’t want to quit. I didn’t know her personally, but I heard stories.”
“When I wanted to just give up, I kept reciting her words in my head to keep me going. Do not let the shadows of life darken your soul forever. I chanted those words over and over silently to give me strength.”
Matthew reached out and stroked my hair with such kindness in his eyes. “Did you? Did you allow the shadows to darken you?”
I nodded. “Sometimes. Sometimes all I could see was pitch blackness while still living with my father. But sometimes… I saw a light in all that dark.”
“I’ve misjudged you as just being a typical mafia princess. I can see how wrong I was. I’m surprised you didn’t just allow the shadows to swallow you up. I know grown men who wouldn’t have been able to survive the things you have.”
I looked down at the letter sadly. “I want to be the woman my mother describes in this letter so badly. I want to be the loved wife, the mother, the happy woman so full of dreams. I want this letter to be me.”
Matthew got up from the chair and sat on the edge of the bed. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against his warm frame. “It can be. You’re young. There’s no reason it can’t happen.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. I hope so. I want that. But then… you know my father. I can’t exactly break away and forget the blood that runs through my veins. I think my mother would be very disappointed in me for doing nothing but playing the part of mafia princess.”
“She would be very proud of you. She wanted you to be a fighter. Her words said so. She wanted you to be able to take care of yourself. You have already proven half of that letter is you. You are alive. You have spirit”—he smirked—“This much I know. The rest can still come.”
I looked up at the man I should hate, but didn’t, feeling hopeful. “Do you truly believe that? Do you think the daughter of Vittorio Costa can someday be loved?”
He leaned forward and placed his finger under my chin, so I had no choice but to look directly into his eyes. “I have no doubt,” he whispered, his lips still so close to mine. “You deserve it and so much more.”
As if under a spell, I raised my head just enough so that our lips touched in the softest of kisses. He didn’t move back or resist, but quite the opposite. He pressed his lips harder to mine and conquered my mouth with his—fully kissing me as a man would a woman.
Not as a capturer claiming his possession.
Kissing me as a man with desires. Desires that matched the ones ravaging my body.
When his tongue danced with mine,
I let out a gasp, breaking the spell we were in.
Matthew pulled away and smiled, but he said nothing more. He tucked the blankets around me one last time and made his way to leave.
When the door closed behind him, I allowed the tears to fall. I wasn’t sure why I was crying. I wasn’t sad. I’d just received the first kiss of my life that truly meant something.
I continued to sob, realizing I was crying because of the relief. Because for the moment, I was safe, I was warm, and I was free from my father’s grasp. For at least tonight…
The only thing I did know, was his strong embrace helped ease the sobs shaking through my body. Something about Matthew calmed me.
As my eyes grew heavy, I hoped to God that for once in my life, sweet dreams would indeed come.
18
Matthew
Several days had passed and just as Aria’s health had completely improved, so had the weather. Spring was in the air, and as much as I loved the snow and the warmth of the fire, there was something special about the mountains of Colorado in the Spring. The days inside had been some of the best days of my life. Easy, casual, and natural. Tennessee had cooked us food that was absolutely sinful, and I soon realized he had missed his calling as a culinary chef. The three of us had played games, laughed, read books and drank bottles of wine I had been saving for the perfect occasion. If we all didn’t think about the circumstances of what brought us together, it would have been the perfect vacation getaway. I had even behaved and kept my hands to myself. I wanted her to get better, and as much as I enjoyed fucking her, I doubted I was helping her progress along by doing so. I knew she needed rest, and I had to behave myself. But it was hard. Really fucking hard.
