Ginevra
“I- I can’t breathe.”
“I’m sorry, my dear. Try to breathe more superficially, rather than taking deep breaths.”
Anna Rita’s remark nearly seems like a motherly advice if it wasn’t that she was still tugging at my corset like a lunatic.
“Hmmm…” Tommaso is leaning against the wall of our room watching his mother struggle to make my body morph into something it is definitely not. “If you would just eat after the nutrition plan I composed, as you said you would, we wouldn’t be here, would we?”
I feel Anna Rita pull once more and lay my hand on my stomach, closing my eyes.
Unfortunately, my plan didn’t quite work out. Tommaso had a high at my conducting like a happy wife who is in love for about two days before he fell into his usual pattern of the abusive creep. Hence, my experie
