I lift her up and place her on the counter, not breaking our kiss. Her hands are lost in my hair as she moves her tongue faster in my mouth, trying to deepen the kiss. That's my girl: she was waiting for this no less than I was.
I can't wait any longer. I don't care if it's my parents' bathroom, I need to take her right here, right now, because I missed her so much and I’m not able to control myself any longer.
I spread her legs and shove my hand under the fabric, stroking her soft hips, and unbuckling my jeans with my other hand.
And then she breaks the kiss.
"No, not here," she whispers, gasping for air, and puts her hands on my chest to push me away, but I'm not giving in.
"I'll be quiet, babe, I promise," I insist and lean in again to steal another kiss.
"No," she protests, louder this time, dodging me. "It's my period."
I stop for a second, looking into her eyes, but she lowers her gaze, adjusting her dress, trying to make me get my hand out of her dress.
I think she's lying.
"No, it's not. You just don't want to be embarrassed if someone hears us," I insist, trying to spread her legs again and shoving my hand deeper under the silk until I finally reach thin lace fabric of her panties. They're slightly wet already, and of course, it turns me on even more. My dick is pumping inside my jeans, trying to break free.
"Ricardo," she says sternly and pushes my hand away. "Do you want me to show you a tampon I put in five minutes ago?" She gives me a sharp look, trying to prove how serious she is.
I still don't think it's the truth, because I can quickly figure out when she's lying. She's not really good at this, to be honest, though I don't know why she would lie about that. It's not just because she's afraid of being caught. I mean, it's not the only reason, I'm sure. But she obviously doesn't want to speak to me about it, and I don't want to put too much pressure on her.
That's why I give up and finally pull away.
"Let's go." I give her a hand and help her up from the counter. She avoids looking into my eyes. I want to ask her what’s happened between us and why she’s acting so strange, but I know it's not the place for this kind of conversation. She'll tell me anyway. I'm just not used to waiting, and that's the problem.
When we walk out of the house and onto the terrace again, it's already twilight and the lanterns have been turned on. Luckily Mom agreed to order catering from one of her favorite restaurants. Usually, she doesn't like strangers hanging around, but after she had surgery, Dad insisted she needs help cleaning the house and looking after the garden.
I can't believe she wanted to clean this large, almost six-thousand-square-foot house all by herself. She said she got used to doing everything by herself, and cleaning calms her down, but it's too much, even for her, especially when Vi and Fran are so sloppy.
"There you are!" says Pierpaolo, and everyone turns to look at us. "I thought you ran away already!"
"Don't be so controlling," says Mom with a smile. "Let the kids be alone together. They haven't seen each other for a couple of days, they missed each other!"
Sometimes I think Mom is even happier that I'm dating Angie than I am, if that's even possible. When I didn't date for thirty-two years, she almost gave up trying to convince me that I needed to start a family and give her grandchildren. The more she talked about it, the more I told her it wasn’t the right time and changed the subject.
But now she's shining. Seeing me with a woman like Angelica—young, beautiful, Italian—it's like the best birthday present for her. And it makes me happy as well because I'm glad to see her happy.
"I just wanted to announce something," Pierpaolo continues and stands up from his chair, holding a glass of champagne in his hand.
Everyone hushes, looking at him.
"My dear Valentina," he starts, looking at her. She smiles shyly in response. She probably didn't expect him to address her. "When I met you, the last thing I was expecting was to find someone who'd understand me. The real me." He pauses, and it's obvious he’s nervous. "With all my flaws and my horrible demanding nature, I thought I'd never be able to fall in love. Again."
He swallows. His voice starts trembling, and I turn to look at Angie; she must have noticed it as well.
Angie’s frozen in one place, and it seems like she’s not even breathing. Her big brown eyes are even more prominent. She's nervous, too. I take her by the hand, and she squeezes it tightly in her palm, just like she did when we were on the airplane. And then she opens her mouth in surprise, and I turn to look at her father again, seeing him getting on one knee and pulling a little red box out of his jacket.
"My dear, will you marry me?" he says softly, with his eyes sparkling under the lantern lights. Everyone is looking at them, trying to stay motionless, waiting for her answer with anticipation.
"Yes, I will," she whispers with a smile and takes the ring.
For a second or two, everyone stays silent, trying to take in what just happened and wondering if this is all for real. Then everyone starts applauding and screaming, congratulating Pierpaolo and Valentina.
I turn to look at Angie. Her eyes are wet as she's looking at them, and she smiles, but her lips are trembling, so she bites them. I can see she's happy for them, but at the same time, it seems like she's slightly upset. She's still holding my hand in her palm, squeezing it as if she's afraid.
I want to hug her, I want to calm her down.
I lean closer to her to make sure she'll hear me when I say that I love her, but she stands up quickly, breaking our handhold, and rushes to her father and his wife-to-be.
I look at them. Angie hugs her father tightly as if for the last time, as if she’s trying to let him go.
I don't know what just happened between us and when everything will be okay again, but I’ve already decided I will do anything to never let this woman go.
Chapter Six
Angie
"It's time for us to go to another party!" exclaims Vi after she’s just finished eating her third piece of cake.
"How can you be just as skinny as I am when I eat three times less than you?" asks Fran, who didn't even finish the first piece.
"You were dreaming about leaving us since the early morning, weren't you?" Philipp, their dad, asks with a smile, and they laugh.
"Let the children go a little crazy, honey. Don't you remember how we loved to dance when we were their age?" Alberta gently places her hand on her husband's arm and lightly strokes it.
They're so sweet together. Even after almost thirty-five years of their marriage, they're still deeply in love with each other.
I take a look at Ricardo, and he probably feels it because he turns to look at me.
Why is he so spooked when it comes to relationships? He never dated, he doesn't want to start a family, I don't even know if he likes kids. How can he be like that when he sees how incredibly happy his parents are? Why is it that all he cares about is money?
He told me he loves me and he came back to Tuscany again, but it's not enough. I want something real, just like Alberta and Philipp have, like my father used to have with my mother, like he now has with Valentina. I want something unique and not just an ability to travel from one country to another on his private jet, always hoping that this time will be different, that he'll somehow find time in his tight schedule to be with me.