Chapter 16: More Than Useful

He sent everyone away at nine, and the house went quiet floor by floor.

I found him sitting on the end of his bed in the lamplight with his shirt off.

A white pad was taped to the crook of his elbow.

"You should be lying down," I said.

"I should be a lot of things."

"Your counts are better than this morning."

"Doctor." He held out his hand. "Come here and stop reading me."

I crossed the carpet and he drew me in between his knees.

He rested his forehead against my stomach and just breathed for a while, his arms around my hips.

I put my hands in his hair.

It was very quiet, and I could feel how tired he was in the weight of his head.

"I have something to say," he said, into my dress. "I'm saying it badly."

"Then say it badly."

"I had Rocco burn the ninety-day paper. Tonight. In the kitchen stove."

I went still.

"You think I keep you because you're useful," Alessio said. "You've thought it since the gate."

He turned his head.

"I saw you thinking it at the dinner, every time I touched you in front of someone."

"You're not wrong that I thought it."

"I'm wrong that it's true." He raised his face, and his eyes were dark and plain.

"If your hands were broken tomorrow, I would still want you in this room."

My eyes stung.

"That's a good line," I said.

"It isn't a line."

"I know." I touched his jaw. "That's why it's worse."

He laughed softly and pulled me down onto the bed beside him.

We lay on our sides, face to face, with the lamp throwing our shadows up the wall.

He took the pins out of my hair one by one and laid them on the nightstand.

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