“I’d like a private word with you, Luca,” Giuseppe said. He glanced at my father. “I need to talk to him about his responsibilities to my daughter. The wedding happened so quickly that we didn’t have time for a proper discussion.”

Dad wheezed a laugh, not noticing the tension between me and his best friend. “He surprised you with the elopement too,” he surmised, waving his hand to dismiss us. “Don’t give him too hard a time, Giuseppe. This is a happy occasion, seeing our families truly united.”

I glanced down at Nora, who had remained dutifully silent while the men talked. It was as though she wasn’t even a person, a beautiful statue. She’d railed at me for treating her like a possession rather than a woman with her own thoughts and feelings, and now she was acting like no more than a pretty accessory at my side.

Was this her way of psychologically punishing me for how I’d treated her? By making me feel like the bad guy here? Surely, I hadn’t actually broken her.

Monster. Her accusation snaked through my mind.

I shook off the dark thoughts. I could deal with my wife’s strange demeanor later. If she was trying to be passive aggressive, she would regret it. I valued honesty, and I wouldn’t tolerate this kind of deceitful behavior. She wasn’t acting like her true self, and I didn’t like it.

I would return to her after I finished talking to Giuseppe. For now, I could leave her in my father’s care. I glanced along the high table and noted some of her cousins seated farther down. She would have some familiar company in my absence.

Far from satisfied with the arrangement, I removed her hand from my arm and brushed a kiss over her knuckles, playing the part of besotted groom.

“I’ll be back soon.” It was a promise and a warning. Nora would behave herself in my absence, or she would have a very sore bottom in a few hours.

She blinked up at me vacantly and smiled.

My stomach turned, but I forced myself to release her. I wanted to shake her instead. I wanted her to tilt her imperious chin and tell me exactly what she thought of me, even if the words might sting a little. Anything was better than this vapid doll act.

If I’d broken her…

I couldn’t think about it. Not now. If forcing the birth control shot on her had hurt her so deeply, I would hold her and make up for it later, when we had some privacy. And if she was playing some kind of psychological game with me, she’d learn that I wouldn’t tolerate being manipulated. My wife would not hate me, and she would certainly not break because of me.