The Carrero Contract - Finding Freedom (Book 3 of Contract Trilogy)

45

When we get to the table Gino spots us from further into the garden where he is kicking about a ball with some very small humans. It takes only minutes to be enveloped by the group and introductions are quickly made from people with a severe obsession with cheek kissing and bear hugs. I'm introduced rather proudly as Alexi's new wife, and, of course, a lot of mock shock and outrage at missing the wedding ensues.

It's a flurry of people for a solid ten minutes as the news spreads that yes, the commitment-phobic, womanising cousin has, in fact, got himself hitched. I must be some sort of goddess, angel, a saint with patience, yadda yadda. I endure a lot of jokes at his expense but it's all in good form, and it's obvious these people are truly happy for their black sheep of the family cousin. Alexi takes it all in his stride with a smile, and his mood from his mother's behaviour flitters away on the breeze as quickly as mine does. They have infectious happiness that sucks you in and makes you forget your dark clouds.

I don't feel completely comfortable surrounded by all these touchy-feely, overly nice people but it doesn't take long to relax enough in his arm to sit and pick at the cold buffet that's laid out for lunch in this huge greenhouse. Not that I would call it that, as there are barely any plants and it's more of a social building filled with seating and tables. I would hazard his mother hasn't got much of a green thumb and uses this for functions and lunches with her church-going friends. I wonder if she had it built to keep up with the neighbours and then failed miserably at any botanical raising.

Before long, his parents appear in the distance and make their way towards us, noticeably apart and stiff in posture. His mother has a pinched slapped expression on a face that looks like it's been sucking lemons for the last half hour of her absence. She has clearly had a major dressing down and Alexi's father approaches us with a smile and a handshake, looking much happier than she does. I can't help the little smug uprising in my belly when I paste on my gracious smile and aim it at the sour bitch. Her strained mirroring smile and overly polite behaviour signal a woman who is seething inside.

I hope it chokes her.

She knows how to play the game though and nods our way begrudgingly. Alexi looks away, avoiding her eye contact and smooths his shirt down trying to distract himself. Her husband makes a beeline right for us, no longer in his full suit and tie but now, like Alexi, in shirt and trousers, while she hangs back and tries not to glare. Appearing busy with her guests while side watching us coldly. You can feel the hostility and poor Lexi continues to ignore her, breaking my heart for him even more. I personally, don't give a toss about the crotchety old tart.

"Alexi, finally. Congratulation my boy. I'm thrilled to find you've finally put this poor girl out of her misery and made her one of us." He shakes his son's hand heartily, smiling widely with genuine warmth on that normally serious face, before pulling him to his feet for a manly hug and a lot of back-slapping. It's weird to see Alexi so physical with someone, but I guess that gentler touchy side had to come from one parent at least. I guess Daddy is affectionate, and the intimacy I get from my husband stems from having some real love and warmth from someone in his childhood.

Alexi says nothing, just smiles in that subtle way of his, pleased with himself and not overly verbal. He pulls me to my feet gently so his dad can hug me too. Somewhat awkwardly as I never know how to take genuine human interaction like this, especially not with men.

It's weird, the embrace and the pat on the back, very Alexi like and when he steps back, he kisses me on the cheek. I blush stupidly, for no reason other than it feels strange to be greeted and accepted this way. A paternal greeting rather than the sleazy 'let me fuck you' that I get from most men. It knocks me off a little and I revert to a gawky child with no grace in her movements and a sudden urge to fidget and stand oddly.