A small laugh rumbled from his chest. He moved against me, and that was when I realized his body was still plastered against mine.
I looked down and then back up at his face. He was staring at me amusingly. Clearing my throat, I tried to push him again and this time he slightly moved away. But he was still crowding my space, still trapping me against the door with his body.
“You…you said you wouldn’t touch me,” I stammered. Closing my mouth with a snap, I took a deep breath in and then continued. “But you are touching me right now.”
“Am I?”
Was that even a question? His body was practically covering mine.
“You are,” I said.
“Okay, then.” Alessio stepped away from me and glided his fingers through his hair, ruffling it in the process.
He was about to say something but his phone rang. His forehead creased in frustration and he quickly pulled his phone from his pocket. With his eyes still on me, he answered the call.
“Yeah?” He was silent for a few seconds. “Okay. I’m coming,” he said, his voice cold and deadly. Alessio put his phone away and walked toward me. I quickly stepped away from the door to give him access. I kept my head down, refusing to look at him.
I heard the door open but there was no sound of it closing. Confused, I was about to turn around when I felt a hot breath at the back of my neck. My body froze in panic. When I heard Alessio’s voice, my muscles slightly relaxed.
“I won’t touch you. Not until you beg me to.”
His words made me tense. And my heartbeat quickened.
With that, I heard him walk away again and the door closed behind him.
Bringing a shaky hand to my chest, I breathed deeply.
Beg him?
Scoffing at his assumption, I walked over to my bed and laid down on my back. That was never going to happen.
Chapter 19
Alessio (seven years old)
My mommy sat on the big sofa chair with a book on her big round belly. She looked so comfortable and she had a small smile on her face. From where I was sitting on the floor, while arranging my puzzles, I saw her slowly rubbing circles over her stomach.
My baby sister was in there. Papa and Mommy called her a princess. Why didn’t they call me a prince? I wanted to be a prince!
But Mommy called me her sweet boy, so that was okay.
“Mommy, can I feel the baby?” I asked softly. Mommy looked up with eyes the same color as mine. She smiled.
“Of course, baby. Come here.” She motioned for me to get up as she placed the book on the small table beside her.
I quickly got up and ran to her. Mommy patted her lap and I climbed up and sat down on her lap, nestling into her chest. She took my hand and placed it on her round belly. As soon as my palm made contact with her stomach, I felt a hard kick. My eyes widened and I sucked in a shocked breath.
“She kicks hard,” I whispered.
“You used to kick harder,” Mommy replied, laughing.
“Really?” I looked up at her with wide eyes.
She nodded and made a humming sound. “You were a very strong baby.”
“I like being strong!” The baby kicked again and I smiled. I couldn’t wait to see my baby sister. “Mommy, I will always protect princess!” I said, looking at her stomach in awe. Papa always said that as her big brother, I had to protect her. And I vowed I would.
I won’t ever let anything happen to princess, I thought as I rubbed my small hand over Mommy’s round stomach.
Mommy placed a kiss on my temple and started humming some songs. She liked playing the piano and she was always humming. That would be our daily routine. Before going to sleep, she would play the piano for some time while humming. Most times, I would fall asleep on the sofa, listening to her play.
We sat there for a while and then I heard a knock on the door. Looking up quickly, I saw Papa leaning against the door, looking at Mommy and me with an amused smile on his face.
“Papa!” I exclaimed loudly, quickly jumping off Mommy’s lap and running into his open arms. He pulled me up and hugged me tight to his body. I missed him so much. He had been gone for a few days, but now he was back.
“Hey there, my boy. How are you?” he asked.
“I’m good. I was feeling princess moving.”
“Oh, really? I want to feel too,” he said with a small laugh, walking us back toward where Mommy was sitting. He stopped beside the couch and smiled down at her. Mommy had a big smile on her face, and she looked peaceful as she stared at Papa. He placed a hand on her stomach and asked, “How is our princess?”
“She is kicking a lot lately,” Mommy said, placing her hand over his.
Papa let me down and then leaned forward, kissing Mommy on the lips. They kissed for some time, totally forgetting about me. I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed. They always did that.
Papa pulled away but then pressed his forehead against Mommy’s. “I missed you, Angel,” he whispered.
Angel. That was what Papa called Mommy. But I never understood why.
Moving forward, I stood on the other side of Mommy. “Papa, why do you call Mommy ‘angel’?”
They pulled away and stared at me. Papa let out a small laugh while Mommy’s cheeks turned red. He crouched down in front of me. “What is an angel?” he asked.
I felt my forehead crease in confusion and then shrugged. “Isn’t an angel someone with wings? God’s messenger. They are nice people. They are supposed to help others.”
“Correct. But an angel is also someone who is sweet, kind, caring, and calm. The most beautiful woman on the planet. Someone who is amazing in every way. An Angel is the girl who makes your heart beat faster when she walks into the room. The girl you need wherever you go. The girl who makes you want to be better. An angel is someone who is your rock. The person who you love with your entire heart. The person who you can’t see yourself living without.”
I stared at Papa in awe. He was a man of few words. I never expected him to give me such an explanation. And while he was talking, he stared at Mommy, his eyes shining with emotions that I couldn’t understand.
“Oh,” I mumbled quietly. I didn’t know what to say. I heard him chuckle as I looked down. Mommy laughed softly too. I felt a hand on my arm and looked up to see Mommy pulling me toward her. I stood in front of her and she ran her fingers through my hair.
“And one day, you will find your angel,” she whispered. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and I quickly shook my head.
“But you are my angel, Mommy.”
She gasped and then smiled. “My sweet boy.” Shaking her head, she placed a kiss on my forehead. “No, baby, I’m not your angel. Your angel is waiting for you somewhere.” She pulled back and palmed my cheek. “And when you do find her, don’t ever let her go.”
“Because if you lose her, then you will forever be incomplete,” Papa added.
“Will she be like you, Mommy?” I asked, thinking about my angel. What would she look like? Would she be as beautiful as Mommy and as sweet as her?
“Oh, baby, she might be better than me,” she said, laughing.
“Impossible,” Papa mumbled under his breath.