“I can’t give you any more, he’s home, it’s time to get off that shit, Pippa.”
I curse, wishing that I could scream at him. It’s not that I want to be an addict, it’s just that’s what I am now. Karma has played her games and here I am, suffering the consequences of my actions and my reactions.
“He won’t care,” I lie.
Arlo snorts. “I’ll give you one last bottle, but Pip, it’s done, yeah?”
Nodding, I lick my lips as I load some spaghetti alla carbonara onto his plate. “Okay, Arlo.”
I agree to his words, but know that in a few weeks I’ll be begging him for another bottle, maybe two. He shakes his head as he reaches into his coat jacket and before I leave the food table, I have the bottle neatly tucked into my small purse.
Making my way with two heaping plates of food, I sink down in the chair next to Massimo. I don’t pay attention to who we’re sitting with until I lift my head and my gaze meets Lenora’s.
She’s holding her new baby, the toddler that she has sitting in the seat next to her. My heart clenches at the sight as the toddler moves and Arlo takes the seat before lifting the child into his lap.
“Pippa, how are you?” Lenora asks, her voice wary as her eyes search mine.
Dipping my chin, I feel like a giant cunt. I’ve been ignoring her for almost a year. This woman who spent countless hours away from her family to keep me company and I can’t even give her a call back, not even when I went back to work for her husband.
Lenora smiles softly, then shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it, water under the bridge?”
Nodding, I bite the inside of my cheek. “Yeah,” I breathe.
“Lunch next week?” she asks as her gaze flicks from me to Massimo and then back to me. My eyes shift to my uneaten food before I lift them up to meet hers.
“Okay.”
Her smile widens, showing me her pretty smile as her eyes practically dance in front of me. “Good. I’ve missed you,” she admits softly.
Lifting my hand, I reach across the table and she doesn’t make me wait. As is her nature, her hand immediately finds mine. “Me too, Lenora.”
The rest of the evening we don’t mention my absence from the group again. Instead, it’s just like old times, as if the past five years hasn’t happened.
Eventually, the girls and the men are separated and I find myself surrounded by these women that I respect, that I even love—that I look up to.
We drink, but not too heavily. My tolerance is so high these days that after my fifth glass of wine, I’m not even buzzed. Massimo slinks up to my side, his hand sliding around my hip, his fingers gripping me there.
Turning my head to the side, I tilt it back to look up at him.
“Ready?” he asks, his one word, it holds more meaning than I think I could ever convey in a simple word.
Gulping, I nod my head. “Yeah, I’m ready,” I whisper.
Without another word, the two of us leave the party. There’s a car waiting for us outside and we slip into the back seat. Sitting next to me, in silence, he takes my hand in his, gripping my fingers tightly as the driver moves the car toward home.
“We’re here,” the driver says.
“Grazi,” Massimo murmurs as he reaches for the handle.
Together, hand-in-hand, we make our way toward the front door of our home. A home that we shared together for less than a week. A home that I have completely made over. A home that could possibly be a new beginning or the beginning of the end.
My heart hammers against my chest at the possibilities. I don’t know what’s going to happen once we cross that threshold, I’ve been thinking, dreaming and dreading this moment for five years.
Inhaling a deep breath, I let it out on an exhale, staying one step behind my husband, a man who is practically a stranger, I cross the threshold into whatever will be.
MASSIMO
I feel like a stranger in my own home. Like a guest. Nothing looks the same as it did five years ago. The furniture is different, completely changed, as is the color of the walls. I don’t recognize anything in the living room or kitchen and I wonder what else has changed.
“Between the wives and Rosana, we changed everything slowly,” Pippa offers as her explanation of what’s happened.
Nodding slowly, I turn to face her. My eyes rake up and down her body, taking her in completely.
The house, the decorations, they aren’t the only things that have changed. Pippa has changed as well, she is almost gaunt, her hair longer and duller, her blue eyes not quite as bright as I remembered.
“Seems you’ve changed everything, no?”
Pippa closes her eyes for a moment, then slowly opens them again. She shrugs a shoulder as she licks her lips, then tilts her head to the side, her eyes roaming over me before stopping on my face.
“Five years, Massimo. Not the same twenty-year-old girl I once was. Just like you’re not the same man you once were either.”
Shaking my head from side-to-side, I take a step toward her, then another until I’m so close that our bodies are almost touching. Reaching out, I extend my index finger, touching the side of her mouth before I trace her kissable lips.
“Are you going to hold it against me? The sins of my past?”
Pippa licks her lips, her tongue touching the pad of my finger. “Do you have a lot of those for me to hold against you?” she breathes.
I grunt, slipping my other arm around her waist before I pull her against me. The hand against her mouth shifts to twist in the back of her hair. Tugging her head back, I look into her eyes, still not as bright as they once were, but no less
