by L. D. Davis
The vison of Lydia’s face in my mind made me smile to myself. She was so beautiful, so full of fire. She had been right—she wasn’t like the other women who had been in my life, but she didn’t understand, didn’t see how much that made me want her more. Lydia was one of a kind, and because of her rocky past, she failed to see her own strengths. She struggled to understand how I could love her instead of proudly admitting that she was worth being loved. While she wondered if she were good enough for me, I wondered if I were good enough for her.
I wanted to make our relationship work. I wanted to understand her better and to see what made her so disenchanted. That couldn’t happen until I returned to the States, however. My trip to Italy would only last a few days—a week at most—and then I would fly right back to Ohio, regardless of what or who needed my attention elsewhere. Lydia, my sweetheart, mio Tesoro, was going to tell me everything. We were going to have that conversation whether she liked it or not.
And then I would prove to her that I wanted her no matter what. She was what I wanted most in this world, and nothing was going to interfere with that.
End of Book One
Continue reading for a preview of Perseverance, Book 2 in the Disenchanted Series
Preview of Perseverance
Book Two of the Disenchanted Series
Coming June of 2019
Marco
I loved living in the states. I especially enjoyed my time at the cabin, but there was nowhere on earth like Italy. It was rich with history and natural beauty. Many areas were frozen in time, like the many villages in the south. In and around the bigger cities like Milan and Rome, however, it was a wonderful mixture of the modern and the archaic. It was always hard to leave whenever I visited, but despite who I knew I had waiting for me at home, this departure was one of the hardest.
My brother Massimo was recently diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He was still undergoing testing to determine what stage the cancer was at in his body. We hoped for the best, but it did not look good. While my brother did not look sick to me, he also did not look like himself. He suggested it was just because he was getting old, but he was only four years older than me at forty-three, which wasn’t old at all.
I’d argued that emphatically. “That would make me old, and I am too young to be an old man.”
“You would say that. Your girlfriend is half your age.”
I’d glared at him. “She is not half my age. She is almost twenty-nine.”
Massimo held his hands up. “Okay, okay. Calm down.” After a moment of silence, he asked, “Would you like to take any gifts home to her? Like a juice box?”
I scowled as he laughed. “You are lucky you’re sick, or I would hit you.”
He held up his fists and cocked an eyebrow. “Even with cancer, I can still kick your ass, little brother.”
“Not funny.”
“It’s hilarious.”
I’d gotten up and walked out of the room. He’d been cracking jokes about his condition since I’d arrived hours before and I didn’t find any of it funny.
Eventually, we were able to have a serious conversation. Although I hadn’t wanted to face the possibility of his demise, I couldn’t ignore it, and it made Massimo feel better to get the details of his will out of the way. We’d spoken for hours with one of the family attorneys. I’d been surprised by some of his wishes, and worried for what they meant, but I hadn’t interfered and let him make his own decisions for his wife and children.
There wasn’t much I could do after that, besides be there for emotional support and to help with the children. My brother was still getting around fine, but he was tired a lot, and though he tried to hide it, I knew he was in pain. It made me nervous and sad every time I saw him try to hide a wince, or take a handful of pills, or to fall asleep at odd times of the day. It didn’t seem right. I didn’t want to leave him for fear that he would suddenly die before I could return, but I didn’t necessarily want to stay either. I needed to get back to handle some business, but more importantly, I needed to get back to Lydia, Gavi, Amanda, and Cora. I missed all of them badly even though I had gone longer periods without seeing them. I supposed it was the distance that made it feel worse.
“Do you have to go?” a soft voice asked from the doorway to my bedroom.
I looked up from my packing and gave Celia a smile. “What are you doing here?”
Although I had spent most of my time with my brother and sister-in-law, I had still stayed in my old room in my parents’ wing of the mammoth house. My bedroom had been just as I’d left it when I last visited six months ago. Celia and Massimo had a residence in the south wing of the house. There was a lot of back and forth between the households all day, especially with the children, but Celia did not come to the main house often, at least from what I was told. When we were kids she and my mother got along fine, but I must’ve missed something over the years, because there seemed to be some tension between the two women. Of course, it could have just been normal tensions between a mother and her daughter-in-law, especially since they lived so close. After all, there could only be one La signora Mangini, and my mother was pretty much the boss of everyone and everything, except my father—at least, he would like to think so.
“Yes, I have to go,” I told Celia as I continued to pack.
She came further into the room. “When will you be back?”
“I don’t know. Probably soon, but I can’t say when for sure.”
“Is it because of your work?”
“Yes and no. I’ve done a better job than I expected building my company and hiring the right people. I still make all the major decisions, but I can literally do that from anywhere. I like to do the work, however. I like to be at the building sites and to wear a hardhat and get right in the mix of things.”
There was a brief hesitation, and I heard her soft intake of breath before she spoke again. “But you could work from here if you had to.”
I glanced at her again, my brow furrowed. “Yes, if I had to. I’d prefer not to. Why?”
Instead of answering my question right away, she asked another of her own. “Is that the only reason you won’t stay?”
I hesitated. Although it had been many years since our relationship, and she was married to my brother and had given birth to five of his children, it didn’t seem right to discuss my relationships with her. We never spoke about any of the women I’d been with, though she couldn’t have known about most of them except for the ones I’d fooled around with while visiting. Talking to her about Lydia didn’t feel right.
“There is someone waiting for me,” I said quietly. “My girlfriend.”
She blinked. “Girlfriend?”
I smiled. “Yeah, a girlfriend.”
She rolled her eyes and gave me an indulgent smile. “But there is always a female friend, Marcello.”
I chuckled, and actually felt a little embarrassed by that. It was becoming clear to me that my family and friends saw me as a philanderer. That wasn’t the best of compliments.
“She’s different. This is different. Lydia is not a female that is a friend, or a girl that is a friend. She is a woman and she is my girlfriend, my lover, or significant other.” I gave her a skeptical look. “The kids have called me when I’m with her, so I’m sure you know about her. My mother and sisters must’ve mentioned her at some point.”
I wasn’t self-absorbed. It wasn’t every day I spoke to my family about a woman, and I’d never called to announce that I was seeing someone seriously before a couple months ago. Surely, Celia had gotten the memo.
She wasn’t convinced. “I’ve heard some murmurings.”
“Well, let me be the one to properly inform you that there is a woman, that I love her, and I love her children.”
Her gray eyes widened as it finally sunk in. “It’s serious then. Really serious. You aren’t just having fun as usual.”
I laughed. “I’m having fun, but it’s nothing like the usual. Lydia is not like the usu
al.”
“She must not be to have captured the heart of a rake like you. Do you have a picture of this woman—Lydia?”
I picked my phone up off the bed and went to the pictures. There were dozens of photos featuring Lydia, some she was aware of, some not. Certainly, she was not aware of the ones I’d taken of her as she slept. I would not share those with Celia, or anyone.
My sister-in-law looked through the album I’d pulled up for her, one that had plenty of pictures of Lydia and the kids.
“You really are in a relationship,” she said in awe before handing my phone back.
“Yes, I am.” I put the phone in my back pocket. “And she is the main reason I want to get back.”
Celia nodded slowly. “I understand. She is very pretty. I wish I was still young and pretty.”
“You are still young and pretty.”
And she was. Celia was two years younger than me, but looked more than a decade younger. In my eyes, she was still the same girl I once loved. I didn’t ever really look at her too closely, considering she was my brother’s wife, but it was hard to miss how gorgeous she was, always had been. Her dark hair was still long, silky, and thick and stretched past her waist to her backside. Even after several children, her body was still in prime condition. I’d once told Lydia that Celia was stunning, and I’d meant that, but still, she had nothing on my Lydia. No woman did.
Celia smiled shyly. “Thank you, Marcello.”
“I am only speaking the truth. You have something more on your mind, I can tell.”
She bit her bottom lip. Twenty plus years ago I used to find that extremely erotic. I would be a liar if I said I didn’t find it attractive, but the action didn’t light a lustful fire in me like it had back then. If anything, it made me think of Lydia, and all the things she did that turned me on.
“It’s just…Oh, never mind.” She waved a hand dismissively and turned to leave.
I caught her by the elbow and made her turn back to face me before releasing her.
“What?” I asked softly.
Her chin began to quiver, and her eyes filled with tears. “It’s just that…I think Massimo knows he’s sicker than he says. Did you know that he’s known about his diagnosis for weeks? He’s known for weeks and has only just told all of us.”
I felt my heart stop. Weeks? If he’d been sick for weeks, then that would mean he knew by now what his prognosis was, which meant…I couldn’t think about that. I had to give him the benefit of doubt and trust he would tell me if he knew.
“I’m so afraid,” Celia continued tearfully. “The kids are scared, and I feel so helpless. It has been much easier to deal with while you are here. You make Massimo happy, and…” She began to cry harder. “He should have some happiness because I don’t think he’s…I think he might…”
I rubbed her shoulders gently and finished the sentence for her. “You think he might die.”
She nodded. “Yes. And I’d hate for him to die while you were away, and it’s been so good to talk to you, to have someone to talk to about this.”
I put my arms around her in a comforting embrace. “You can always talk to me. You can call me any time.”
“No, it’s not the same, and I wouldn’t want to disturb you while you are with your girlfriend and her family.”
“Lydia would understand. She’s a widow. She of all people would understand.”
We said nothing for several minutes. I let Celia cry as I held her while I thought about all she said. When she finally backed away from me, my shirt was wet from her tears.
She laughed softly through her sadness. “I’m sorry about your shirt.”
“It’s just a shirt. I have more.”
She sniffled. “You are a real comfort. You and I used to be so close. Obviously, it can never be like it was again, but I do miss our friendship, Marcello. I miss you, and I know Massimo misses you, too. I am asking you to stay for myself and the kids, but I am especially asking you to stay for your brother. You know that he won’t ask.”
I nodded my agreement. “He fought with me about this trip.”
“You see? Stubborn. I’ll let you get back to your packing. I know you have more important people to get back to than us.”
“Not more important, but…they are important.”
“Right. Well, have a safe trip. Hopefully we’ll see each other again before…the end.” She started to leave the room, but paused in the open door and looked over her delicate shoulder. “I am glad you came. I am glad that in your absence, you haven’t forgotten that family is everything here. You haven’t forgotten where you come from.”
She bolted from the room, sniffling, and leaving me feeling conflicted.
