36
Thorns
Pietro created a moat fit for a large castle with his pacing outside their tent.
What the hell was he going to do? How could he see her? A note? She’d throw the thing away. Unread. She wasn’t at her store; he’d tried three times to lie about supplies he needed and was greeted by a very gay and very charming replacement.
He thought how he’d felt, alone in the ditch on pins and needles for hours and hours that night of 17th April. Thinking the worst. Thinking she was hurt or, God forbid, their tryst discovered and that somehow she’d protected him because they weren’t here to arrest him, but he wished they’d come and lock him away because living without her was not living at all. He knew this now as surely as he knew Stef was born to play the violin. His love for her was not a f
