Submerged

Chapter 5

Alessia

Dante:
*picture of him giving a thumbs up, showing off a tiny silver cat sticker on his nail with a smiling Frankie beside him*
Frankie wants a picture of your nails in return

Since I gave him my number we've texted back and forth everyday. He always texts me good morning and goodnight.

It's odd.

He's too nice, too perfect. I've never wanted to get under someone's skin more than I do his. I want to beg him to rebel with me but I already know he wouldn't.

Alessia:
*picture of her nails with chipped dark purple nail polish*
Yours are much better than mine

I cringe at the state of my nails. I've always kept them at least freshly polished, if not fully manicured, but my usual self care routines have slipped through the cracks lately. I just don't feel up to it anymore.

Dante:
I won't tell you Frankie's thoughts on those, but just know they weren't nice and she demands you let her paint your nails after we're married

I can't help but reread the last three words over and over again.

After we're married.

The way he just accepts this arrangement drives me crazy. I've only ever been around men that push their boundaries, not ones that bend easily to the will of others. I had a man risking his life to fuck me. Lorenzo betrayed Giovanni just to keep Polina. Giovanni fought for Vittoria and when he lost he had sex with Nolani in Raf's bed just to piss Raf off. Not a single time has Dante objected to this and it's so frustrating. 

"Mio Dio, all you do is tap away at that thing. I feel like I barely see your face anymore." Mom huffs in annoyance as she enters the dining room.

I glance up at her, taking in the multiple swaths of fabric in her hands. "Are you crafting?" I question skeptically, locking my phone and laying it on my lap.

"What?" She mutters, glancing down at her hands as if forgetting they were full. "Oh. No, these are tablecloth samples." She drops them onto the table right on top of my open laptop. "I've been running myself ragged choosing things for this wedding, it's time you put a little effort in. There isn't much time left."

Hmm... it's almost as if I don't want to get married.

I push the fabric off my keyboard and close my laptop. "Why would I do that when I don't want to get married in the first place?" I voice my thoughts aloud although I know it won't do any good.

"Not this again." She rolls her eyes as if she's grown tired of my rejection of this engagement and snatches two swaths of fabric up, both looking to be the same shade of cream. "We've narrowed it down to these two colors. Cream or eggshell?"

I blink at her in confusion. "Those are the same color."

"They're not." She insists, irritation bleeding through her words. "Cream or eggshell?" She repeats with a little more aggression than before.

"Cream." I shrug, not really caring.

"Great! Now we have to choose which fabric." She tosses the other options to the end of the table and starts spreading the remaining swaths out. "This one has a lace trim, this one is silk, and this—" my phone vibrates with a text, the screen lighting up with Dante's name. Her gaze is glued to the notification when I look back at her. She snaps her mouth shut, eyes meeting mine and then she quickly scoops up all the fabric. "You know what, never mind. Continue your texting. I'll figure it out." She flashes me a big smile and leaves the dining room with a bounce in her step.