I know my face is an ugly sight. "Don't you find yourself being a bit too hypocritical?"
She stands there, unfazed by my response. "Hypocritical?"
"Yes, hypocritical. You ran away from an arranged marriage, and now you're forcing one on your son. So, yes, I believe the term for you is hypocritical." By now, I no longer care if she is Anthony's mother.
Suddenly, her lip curves upward. "So, you do have a backbone."
I stand my ground, no longer pushed around by the woman in front of me. "I didn't say anything for the past few days because you're Anthony's mamma, but enough is enough. No one enters my house and speaks about my husband's old fiance to spite me."
"Your house?"
"Yes, my house. Anthony is my husband now, and if you're here to break us apart, then I'm sorry, but you should leave." I'm mentally praying my words won't bite me back in the ass later.
She pouts, "Anthony, sweetheart, did you hear that?" I turn around to see the office door wide open with Anthony leaning against the frames. His arms crossed above his new clothes with hair still slightly damp from what happened earlier. She walks towards him. "How can you marry her? She is mean to mamma."
He sighs, "Mamma, don't you think you've played with her enough?"
I frown, not understanding what he means. Is his mother playing with me?
Her lip twists, "I still think Gabriella is better for you," she mumbles.
I scratch my head. "It seems like you two-" they suddenly paid all their attention to me, "are having a mother-son conversation so I'll-" I point two thumbs behind me. "I'll get going."
"Stay." At that moment, I felt like a dog listening to her master's command. I wanted to run, but my legs wouldn't listen to me.
Anthony pushes himself away from the door frame and walks towards me. "I was not engaged to anyone before I met you. There was talk about marriage from my mother and Gabriella's side of the family, but that was it - talk."
He positions a hand underneath my jawline and lifts it. "Do you understand my words, mio cuore?" I bit my lower lip. "You are not wrecking anything," he reassures me.
"I-I understand."
He motioned his hand towards my head and began running his fingers down my hair. He stops. Steadily, he moves towards my ear as I hold onto my elbow. "You should go take a shower. You're still quite sticky."
I close my eyes feeling his hot breath fanning my skin. Unable to answer, I merely nod and walk away.
While I head down the hallway, I can hear Anthony say: "Now, mamma, I believe it's time for us to have a long chat. Step into my office." The door closes.
I saunter to the shower, feeling a bit better after my confrontation with Anthony's mother. The steam fills the room, and I bathe my skin, taking careful notice of the marking Anthony left all over my body. After my shower, I slump into bed. "Gabriella, huh," I roll onto my stomach. "Probably really ugly since he didn't want her," I grumble into the pillow, knowing I'm lying to myself. If Anthony's mother pushes them together, then it must mean she is probably an exotic alien.
I lay there and continued staring at the door until a huff of breath exited my lungs. "Why are you so pathetically needy, Angelica?" I said, sitting upward in a crossing-leg position. "He married you, not her." I pinch my cheek. "So, stop it with the negative thoughts," I said, before leaping out of bed. Instead of moping around, I went to the chef to learn how to cook Anthony's favorite.
