The Italian Read online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Angst, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
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“And you were taught this as you grew up?”

“Yes. When I have my own children, it is very important for them to know my language and their culture, and what it means to be Italian.”

“I see.” She smiles sadly.

We sit in silence for a moment.

“So, that’s your magnet?” she asks.

I frown, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

“When you meet someone, they have a magnet that attracts you to them. Everyone has a magnet. Some are stronger than others.”

I stare at her, fascinated by her theory. “What’s your magnet to me? What attracted you to me?” I ask.

She chuckles. “Funnily enough, my magnet to you is the exact reason that we can’t be together.”

“Such as.”

“I loved how you are so proud of being Italian.”

My heart drops.

“And how you care for your family and love your parents. How I felt so safe in your arms.”

I frown and take her hands over the table as emotion overwhelms me.

Baby.

“But it was your stance on marriage that caught me off guard. You told me that when you marry, it’s going to be for life.”

I clench my jaw. She’s here to say goodbye.

No. please no.

“But then you ruined it in spectacular fashion by telling me that you own brothels, and then wanting me to be your mistress.” She shrugs. “I’m wiping that from my memory bank permanently, by the way. I’ve never been so insulted in my entire life.”

“I didn’t buy the brothels. I took them over from the family. Don’t judge me on that. And…” I pause. “I just didn’t know how to walk away from you. I was trying to find an answer to this mess—one where we can stay together.”

“I know.” She smiles sadly. “And if my self respect was for sale, I would sell it to stay in your arms.”

We stare at each other, sadness and regret hanging in the air between us.

I wasn’t joking. I really don’t know how to walk away from her.

She pulls her hands out of mine with renewed determination. “What was your magnet to me?” she asks. “Just for interest’s sake.”

Sadness begins to roll in like a thick fog.

I raise my brows as I think. “When I’m with you, I forget who I am. You remind me of who I was before,” I whisper. “When I could be who I wanted to be.” Her eyes search mine. “You are the only honest thing left in my life, and I’m scared that if I lose you, I will lose myself.” I frown. Where the hell did that come from?

I drop my head, rattled by my own admission.

“Baby,” she whispers. “You are a good man. You don’t need me or anyone to prove that to you. And when you meet her and fall in love, you will know that too.”

“I don’t want to fall in love with anyone else,” I whisper as fear grips me. “What if I’m already in love with you?”

“You’re not.” She smiles sadly with a shake of her head. She cups my hand to her cheek.

“How do you know?”

“Because when you love someone, they instantly become your family. It isn’t a choice. Your family presents itself.”

My face falls. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I never meant for this all to happen but I couldn’t stay away.”

“I’m sorry, too.” She smiles as she takes her hand from my face, coldness fills the void.

“So, this is it?”

“Yes, this is it. I just wanted to say goodbye and tell you that I understand.”

I get a lump in my throat. “You do?”

“Of course, I do.” She gives me her first genuine smile of the day. “I wish you the best. She will come.”

I stare at her, unable to push a word pass my lips. She’s already here.

“And if I find out you have a mistress behind her back, I’m coming back here to kick your ass.”

My face falls. “You’re leaving?”

“I’ll stay for the three months for the experience, but them I’m going to New York.”

My gaze drops to the table, unable to look her in the eye, and reining in my every instinct to drop to my knees and beg. “If it’s any consolation, I knew you would never become my other woman.” I pause for a moment. “But I had to try. I can’t change my heritage and what’s expected of me.” My eyes search hers. “If I could, I would.”

She gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “I understand. It doesn’t make it any easier, but I understand. Thank you for explaining everything.”

I smile, relieved that she doesn’t hate me. I hate me enough for the both of us.

She stands.

“You’re leaving already?” I murmur as I stand with her. “Can we just be friends? Stay and drink your coffee.”

“We both know where that will lead.” She smiles sadly.

I take her in my arms, and we stand cheek-to-cheek for a long time.


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