Love Him Like Water Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Mafia, Suspense, Virgin Tags Authors: Jessica Gadziala Advertisement

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Even as I knew he was down there with his friends.

Any, anyone but me.

I walked in my towel back into the bedroom, seeing something sitting on my nightstand that I hadn’t left there. A little box.

I felt a small thrill, wondering if he maybe had bought me something, that I’d been on his mind while he was out and about in his life.

But as I walked over and picked it up, what I found only compounded those dark feelings.

He hadn’t gotten me a gift.

He’d gotten me a box of birth control pills.

“Damnit,” I snapped at myself as I felt a hot tear spill down my cheek.

Reaching up, I swiped it away as I tossed the box back down.

I would take them, I knew I would. Because, despite the disappointment, and the way little cracks kept spider webbing across my heart each time he only remembered me when he wanted to be intimate with me, it was all I could get from him.

And I was going to take it.

Because the need for him only seemed to be growing with each passing hour.

Moving into the closet, I found some pajamas to slip on, then found myself rummaging around in one of my bags, finding something I hadn’t bothered to look at since the morning of my wedding when I’d turned it to silent and ignored the tsunami of texts begging me not to go through with it.

My phone.

I knew I wouldn’t be strong enough to deal with my family’s upset when I was feeling so fragile. But I reached for it like a lifeline now, knowing that it was filled with people who didn’t want to use me, who just wanted to love me.

I took it and my charger back to my nightstand, plugging it in and charging as I ripped open the damn box, then pulled a pill out of the blister pack, pressed it against my tongue, and swallowed.

My objection wasn’t to the Pill itself.

While, yes, I wanted babies one day, I definitely didn’t want them yet.

It was just the feeling attached to the Pill that had me tossing it back into my nightstand drawer afterward, not wanting to look at it until I had to take it again the next night.

I curled up in the bed, reaching for my phone when the light indicated it was charged enough to use again, then sucked in a deep breath, and swiped the screen to my messages.

I tapped through the ones from my aunts and female cousins, all of them asking if I was okay, saying they were worried for me, wanting to make sure I was being treated alright.

I had to answer them all eventually.

But it was the texts from my big brother that had my attention.

I had a bunch of big brothers. But my “biggest” brother, Nico, the oldest of all of us, had always been my most ardent protector, my friend when I needed one the most, the one who dropped by to take me out for ice cream weekly even after he moved out. The one I’d dragged me to every bookstore in the tristate area I wanted to explore.

The one whose heart I’d ripped out of his chest by putting my foot down and saying I was going to marry Renzo Lombardi.

He hadn’t just sent me one text.

Oh, no.

He’d sent over twenty.

Each and every one dripping with his heartbreak, with his concern, with his confusion. Some even with his rage.

I swear on my fucking life, Lore, if he is keeping you from me, I will burn down that entire goddamn borough to get you away from him.

He would do it.

Of all of my brothers, Nico’s love was the strongest. To the point of suffocation at times. But warm and comforting to someone so prone to insecurity and uncertainty. His love was a hug to wrap around myself in times of panic or sadness.

He would bring an entire underground war into this city if he knew I’d shed a single tear because of Renzo Lombardi.

I’m sorry if my concerns made you doubt my ability to keep loving you even if I disagree with your decision.

Please answer me.

Don’t shut me out.

Your silence is fucking gutting me, Lore.

I was blinking back different tears as I tapped to respond, my fingers feeling clunky, each attempt at a response feeling wholly inadequate.

I love you, Nico.

It was the simplest, but most honest thing I could say.

Too tender to deal with any more back-and-forth, I set my phone to silent, then buried it in the drawer along with my birth control pills, turned off the lights, curled into myself, and did something that had become an alarming ritual since I started this new life of mine.

I cried myself to sleep.

—

I woke up alone, as usual.

There were no days off for Renzo, it seemed.

When I made my way downstairs, though, I realized I wasn’t exactly alone.

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