Winona [18+]

chapter five

JUNE 09, 1985

WINONA D'ALIA

"You're lucky that you weren't hurt badly."

Emmett poured her a steaming cup of milk tea, garnishing it with cardamom and fennel seeds. The cinnamon scent was enough to calm her as she iced the ache on the side of her head. Clad in warmer clothes—a sweater and loose pants that belonged to Emmett—Winona glanced out the cottage windows and replayed the events over and over again, like a broken record.

"It could've been a lot worse." Winona agreed quietly. Guilt racked through her and a small part of her chastised herself for toying with Salvatore Rinaldi. What a mess.

"Let me see."

"It's just a bump, Emmett. It'll go away in an hour."

He doesn't listen, rounding the corner and nearing her. Winona gasped upon feeling his fingertips dig into her knee, parting them so that he could fit between her legs. Emmett tipped her chin towards him, unfazed by her reaction, as he removed the bag of frozen peas away from her head. His fingers brushed aside wet strands of hair and he inspected the lump that had taken its shape against her temple.

"Looks better than before. What were you doing out there?"

"Being foolish, I suppose."

His eyebrows quirked with surprise. "What were you doing out there with him?"

"Well, I... I..."

Winona kept her eyes on the buttons running down his shirt, avoiding his gaze. His gentle caress coaxed her into a calm state and she meditated over her actions. Pushing Salvatore Rinaldi into the fountain... Hurting him... What was she doing? She felt embarrassed and only slightly annoyed. Emmett's questions probed at her mind and put her in a spotlight she didn't ask for. It would be easy to lie.

Wrong place, wrong time.

I didn't know he would be there.

We bumped into each other.

"Winny..."

"Nothing happened."

"Winona D'Alia, there isn't a soul on this planet that you can fool."

"I'm trying to make his stay miserable."

Emmett laughed suddenly at her honest answer and his shoulders dropped. "Seriously, Winona? Where will that get you?"

"I don't want him here. As a matter of fact, mama can hire the world's finest artists and I'll find a way to drive them all away."

"How far are you willing to go?"

Her lips pressed together. With his intense gaze spectating her, Winona sighed. The silence offered a blanket of comfort and a period of reflection. The domesticity of the scene played out accordingly. She reached for her tea and hummed, thanking him quietly. She always sought reassurance from Emmett, who protected her under his wing and ensured she had a space to talk about the complexities she dealt with.

The cards were not in her favor when it boiled down to Salvatore Rinaldi.

"Everyone's been talking about him."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Did you know that his work is in the-"

"Museum of Modern Art. So, I've heard."

Winona winced at the sharp pain shooting across her scalp and he apologized in a soothing voice, tracing his thumb down the side of her face. Worry overcame his gentle features. "You'll have to go get that checked out. You could have a concussion."