Of volume lineage

So many words boiled inside of me, so many emotions and feelings I couldn’t name. I suddenly hated my tendency to feel everything, to look at the color blue and see a dozen shades. If I was more like my big sister, if I was perfect and placid and sweet, maybe life would be less painful, maybe I wouldn’t cause destruction wherever I went.

I recalled the painting of her above the dining table. Dressed in white, passive, beautiful. She watched over our meals with a meek expression. Isabella had had a short life, but I doubted there had been any pain. She had been loved and adored; she had been perfect.

My perfect Isabella.

I squeezed my eyes tightly. The silence drew out.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted. Simple words but the only ones that fit. Tears spilled over my cheeks, dripping down to my already soaking towel. “I’m sorry I took her.”

He stared at me.

I kept babbling. “I didn’t want her to get hurt, Giova

Giova

Nothing? How was there nothing in him still? I was a thousand pieces coming undone with every second.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated, just in case he didn’t hear me. “I love Marzia and I would never risk her life. I…I–” My voice broke. “–I understand if you want to keep her away from me now…and I….” I swiped at my tears.

Giova

There was no warning when my rage erupted. I leaped to my feet, overcome by a godlike wrath. I was Hera cursing unlucky Greeks, I was Kali destroying demons and drinking their blood, I was Freyja being summoned during battle. There was nothing inside of me except the sound of clashing swords and bloodcurdling screams.

“Yell at me!” I shrieked. “Yell at me, Giova

He didn’t move.

“I can’t stand the coldness any longer. The apathy, the emptiness.”

No reaction.

I lunged at him, hitting his chest with a thump. “Don’t you want to kill me, Giova

Giova

I let out a thunderous scream. “No wonder Ines fucking killed herself! Living with you, dealing with this nothingness. You’re empty, Giova

His arms snapped up, catching my wrists. “Don’t cry, Isabella.” Calmness coated his voice.

I sagged in his grip, anger depleting like a popped balloon, and let out another sob. “She was so frightened…”

Giova

More tears spilled down my cheeks.

“Thank you.”

I froze. What did he just say…Had he just said…?

“Thank you,” he repeated. “Thank you for protecting my daughter, for comforting her and shielding her away from the atrocities.”

“I…”

Thank you.

There were no words. There were simply no words.

No more metaphors or similes or adjectives.

There was only this moment and the forgiveness we held between us like the bud of an unbloomed rose.

A peaceful silence fell over the room like a blanket. Sensations began to trickle back into my consciousness, no longer hidden by my rage and misery. I could feel Giova

I tilted my head up.

My husband showed no emotion, but I understood his actions. The touching, the care, the forgiveness.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” I whispered.

His palm tightened and he brushed his nose over my forehead. “I have never felt that way before,” he admitted, sounding vaguely confused. “Like my heart was going to fall out my mouth.”

I leaned closer to him, seeking both his comfort, and offering some of my own. “I feel like that all the time. It’ll pass.”

Giova

“Waiting for what, Giova

“Nothing,” he murmured. “Forget I said anything.”

I searched his expression, but he leaned forward, lips meeting mine. The kiss was soft, angelic. I kissed him back, my soul settling at his touch.

When he pulled back, something darker had entered his expression. It was the same look he had given me at the club, in the hallway outside an important meeting.

From the questioning tilt to his head, he was asking permission. Instead of speaking, I pulled his head down, our second kiss deeper and hungrier. Giova

Giova

His hands roamed down my exposed arms, goosebumps trailing in their wake. “Are you going to do as I say or are you going to rebel?”

My beat of my heart grew louder. I said the answer he least expected, “I’ll do as you say.”

Giova

I knew that but I didn’t care.

“I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t.” With a flick of his wrist, he undid my towel. It fell to the ground in a heap.

Cool air brushed against my naked body, my nipples puckering. Giova

“Such soft skin,” he noted. I don’t think he meant to say it out loud. “So easy to split and scar, yet you remain unmarked.”

“I had an easy life.”

Giova

“Have you done this again since I told you not to?”

I was surprised when I admitted, “No, I haven’t.”

He squeezed them. “Good.” Giova

I gulped.

“Lay down, Isabella,” he said. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

“Or what?”

His eyes gleamed. “You don’t want to find out, my love. Now do as you’re told.”

My cheeks heated as I crawled onto the bed, then lay down on my back, legs facing Giova

“Come closer to me.”

I wiggled further up. My heart was beating so rapidly it felt seconds away from exploding. Strands of my hair swung over the side, my eyes tracking Giova

Giova