Page 29 of Temptation
“And your brothers?”
“We were all beaten, but I got it the worst. I was the troublemaker, always the black sheep. I struggled at school, and I hid it by playing up. These days I would be diagnosed and labelled, and no one would bat an eye. But my father believes in the old ways. He had no time for a son he labelledstupido.”
My heart breaks for this man. The scars he hides under his expensive suit. The trauma he went through which has led him to being all sorts of fucked up. I reach my hand out to his back, wanting to comfort him but knowing my touch will make his skin crawl, that it will make him remember. My hand stops inches from his scarred flesh.
“You can go now, Greta,” he says quietly.
The words shake me.
He thinks that this changes how I feel about him. He’s shown me his most vulnerable side, and instead of scaring me away, it’s made me feel for him even more. I understand him now. I know where the darkness comes from, and I’m not afraid of it.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Lorenzo chuckles softly, but there’s no humor in it. “You don’t have to pretend to be okay with this. The last woman who saw my scars ran off screaming after seeing me for the monster that I am.”
Tears threaten my eyes, and I push them away. I need to show Lorenzo I’m strong, that his darkness won’t engulf me.
“I’m not like that.”
“I do not want your pity, Greta.” His voice is hard, and he half turns to face me.
“You don’t have it, Lorenzo. I do not pity you.” My fingers hover above the scars and he catches sight of them in her peripheral vision, which makes him frown. “But you have my love.”
His breath catches at my words, and he goes still.
Very slowly, I reach my fingertips forward and brush the ridge of one scar.
13
LORENZO
The touch on my back makes me flinch, and I fight the urge to jerk away as I process what Greta just said.
She loves me.
The words swirl around my heart and touch a warm place deep inside that I had long ago closed off. Her fingers slowly trace the skin of my back, and this time I don’t flinch.
I breathe hard as her gentle fingers move over the dead flesh. All the years of hurt, the monstrous scars I’ve kept hidden, and the shame of disappointing my father again and again and again rise to the surface.
Dark thoughts cloud my brain, and I want to push her away. To get lost in the sins of the flesh like I did for so long, watching strangers do depraved acts as a way to bury my pain. To keep the trauma buried while I lost myself.
I fight the urge to run from the room because now there’s something light, a spark permeating my dark thoughts.
She loves me.
A beacon of light that tugs at the pain and sets it free. Her fingers trace the lines on my back, and with every scar she touches, my soul feels lighter. Like she’s pulling the hurt to the surface and tugging the darkness out of my very soul, purging me of my past.
“Greta…” Her name is a whisper in my throat. The words coming out tangled, caught in the waves of emotion coursing through my body.
Then there’s another sensation. Her lips press against my back, and I feel their warmth spread to my chest and through my body. A warm glow like I’ve never known comes over me, and the heaviness on my chest begins to melt.
“Greta.” I turn around, and this woman who wandered in like a lost coniglietto and has come to mean so much to me looks up at me with tears in her eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere, Lorenzo,” she says with a steely determination that I’ve seen in the last few days.
My coniglietto is a strong lioness at heart, and I’m filled with love for her.
The realization is a new wonder.
