~Tiara
Sitting cross-legged on the plush couch in the sitting room, I twirled the cord of the landline phone around my finger, laughing softly at my mother’s incessant questions about married life. I was dressed casually in shorts and an oversized T-shirt, feeling completely at ease in the moment.
“So, Tiara,” Mom began, her tone mischievous, “how’s married life treating you? Is Giovanni being a good husband?”
I rolled my eyes playfully, even though she couldn’t see me. “Mom, you’ve asked me this every day since the wedding. It’s fine, I promise.”
“Fine? That’s all you have to say?” she teased. “Come on, Tiara. Are you happy? Is he treating you like the queen you are?”
I chuckled, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “Yes, Mom. Giovanni treats me well—”
Before I could finish
