Keeping My Bride by Angela Snyder
Chapter 36
Luca
“AND THAT’S URSA Minor right there, or the Little Dipper,” Verona babbles away from beside me on the blanket.
I’ve been smiling for what feels like an hour or more since she started excitedly pointing out every constellation in the sky. I had a strong feeling that stars would be her thing, because I knew what kind of books she was reading in our library. When I went in late one night, she was asleep and curled up with book about constellations, the universe, and aliens, of all things.
My wife is a space nut. And I kind of like it.
“Show me more,” I tell her. I could listen to her talk about stars all night long.
She points to another constellation. “That’s Perseus, the hero. He rescued Andromeda, the princess. And she is right there,” she says, pointing to a nearby cluster of stars.
“So they are together forever,” I say, turning my head to look at her.
“Yeah,” she says with a smile.
“You know a lot about stars,” I remark.
She’s quiet for several seconds before she finally speaks. “Well, when I was at boarding school, I would sneak out at night and go lie in the grass behind the buildings. I always thought that maybe my mom was up there somewhere, looking back down at me.” Her eyes get glassy as she stares up at the sky. “I missed her so much. It was the only way I could feel close to her.”
I hate that she had to go through so much alone at such a young age. I was a little older when my mother died, but it was still rough. At least I had people, like Greta, making an effort at trying to get me out of my depressed funk. Verona had no one. She relied on the stars to make her feel better. No wonder she’s so obsessed with stars and the universe. She wanted to believe in something, feel something.
It’s scary how much we have in common.
My hand reaches for hers. Her skin is cool, a much lower temperature than mine, and it feels so fragile and delicate in mine. I intertwine our fingers, and I love how soft her skin is against mine.
“Luca?” she whispers.
“Yeah,” I whisper back.
“Why are you doing this?”
Her question catches me off-guard. “What do you mean?”
“The dinner, this, all of this. What’s the catch?”
I release her hand and sit up slowly, staring down at her. “Why does there have to be a catch?” I ask, my eyes narrowing.
“Because there always is with you,” she says, sitting up.
She doesn’t trust me. She thinks I’m doing this with ill intentions. And that pisses me off. Reaching for the remote, I turn the fairy lights back on and stand. “I just wanted to have a nice evening with you, Verona. Is that so hard to ask for?”
Fuming, I storm into the house. I worked so damn hard to make amends with her, and she just ruined it all with a few words.
By the time I’m in my bedroom, I’m regretting even doing anything nice for her. Fuck, I shouldn’t have listened to Benito.
Start over, he had said.
Start over?
Maybe we can’t start over. We had such a rough fucking start to this marriage. Maybe there is no saving it. And I don’t know why the fuck I thought I could try.
