Forty
R ome was so upset at the bar that I didn't think he’d follow me home, since we were in separate cars leaving the office. I honestly thought he’d just make a quick turn onto the highway and go find solace in the peacefulness of his own house, so I’m pleasantly surprised when his car pulls into the driveway as I'm walking through my front door.
I don't even know what to make of it all. One second, everything was normal while Rome and I laughed and tried to have a good time after what was clearly a bad day for him. I’d finally gotten him to unclench and start smiling, showing the best, most infectious parts of his personality. The next thing I knew, Zane was there wearing an extra layer of asshole. He decided that disrespect was the only tool he could wield against me after what happened between us, but he didn't know Rome was there … and neither of us knew that Rome would defend me with violence at the slightest show of opprobrium. Chaos ensued and we had to make a quick exit, leaving everyone in Heartless reeling. Call me crazy, but now that it’s over, I’m not reeling. I’m flattered.
Maybe I'm wrong and simply speaking to my bias, but every heterosexual woman wants a man that will protect her and make her feel safe. We all want to know that when other men—the pieces of shit who like to hurt women—are around, that ours will be the one to stand up for us, and kick a little ass if necessary. In a world full of danger for women, safety is paramount, and it is a rarity to find a man both willing and capable of providing it without being a bully himself. Tonight, Rome showed me that—along with all of his other green flag attributes—he is that kind of man.
Unfortunately, when he rushes through the door after me, he doesn't look at all happy about what just went down. His adrenaline is clearly still pumping as he comes in and immediately starts pacing around the room, but the frustration and exasperation that stitched itself in his mannerisms at the office has returned. He looks miserable and on the verge of tears.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I say as he walks right past me before turning around at the door and doing it again. “Rome, just calm down. It’s over. You did what you had to do.”
“What if they call the cops? They’ll probably call the cops,” he says in a panic.
“Okay, then we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” I reply, hoping my words will console him, and let him know that if he gets in trouble I’ll still be here for him. “But for now, just try to calm down. I honestly think it’ll be fine. Everyone saw how he was acting.”
“Who was he?” he barks. “I just knocked out a guy I didn't even know.”
“He's just some guy I met on a dating app once,” I answer. “He was upset that I chose not to sleep with him. I guess the embarrassment still stings even though it was months ago.”
Still pacing, Rome says, “Well, he should've known not to talk to you that way. He shouldn't talk to any woman that way, but especially you. I couldn't allow that. I never will. You think he's still there? I should go back and make sure he remembers that you belong to me.”
With a sudden burst of energy, Rome rushes toward the door like he’s actually going to go back to Heartless to do even more damage to Zane, forgetting that he was just concerned about a police presence. As he tries to pass me, I reach out and grab him by the hand to stop him.
“Rome, stop,” I say, tugging his arm and pulling him close to me. I wrap my arms around his waist and force him into a hug. “Everything is okay, babe. You're all over the place right now. Just calm down.”
Rome finally stops moving and slowly puts his arms around me, wrapping me up and bringing back that feeling of safety that warms my soul. I breathe him in and squeeze, trying to do the same for him.
“Thank you,” I say into his chest as I listen to his heartbeat.
“For what?”
“For what you did at the bar. Zane was being ridiculous, and while I didn't expect you to knock him out, I'm glad you did. I always knew you'd protect me, but it was amazing to see it actually happen. I don't necessarily condone violence, but I kinda loved it.”
Rome lets out a breath and I feel his tension begin to melt away. “You don't have to thank me for that. You're mine, Nia. I'd throw myself in front of traffic before I ever let a man disrespect you. I mean that with all of my heart.”
I smile as I sigh and close my eyes, sinking into him. “I love you, Rome.”
Both of us freeze. Time stops as the sound of my heartbeat grows so loud that it is all I can hear. The relaxation that began to take hold of Rome suddenly reverses. Rigidity creeps into his muscles, making him stiffen in my arms until it feels like I’m cuddling a mannequin.
“What did you just say?” he asks as he takes a step back.
It’s too late to pull it back now. Although I had the thought days ago, I chose not to say it then. But everything that has taken place tonight just pushed it out of me. Being in his arms after he risked his life and freedom just to ensure that a man he didn't even know didn't disrespect me lowered my guard. The scent of him, and the way his words made me feel worked like a voodoo spell, disintegrating my inhibitions and forcing the words from my heart, and there is no way to put them back.
“I said I love you,” I repeat, owning it and basking in how it feels to say it out loud. “I know it’s a lot, and I don't expect you to say it back, but it’s true. I honestly think I'm in love with you.”
“What? Of course I won't say it back,” he suddenly snaps, his words slamming into my chest like he just hurled a brick.
It hurts so much that I wince and take my own step back. “What?”
“Why would you say that to me?” he questions as a look of miserable disgust spreads across his face.
“What do you mean? I said it because it’s true.”
“No, it’s not true. You don't love me, Nia, and I don't love you either. Alright?”
My face twists into a confused frown that makes my head tilt.
“What … Rome, what the hell just happened? Where is this coming from? Am I missing something?”
“Besides the fact that we are not in love with each other? I don't know. I can't believe you just said that.”
“What the fuck? I don't understand why you're reacting this way.”
“Of course you don't understand,” he blares, shocking me with the sheer volume of his words and the heat of his anger. “How could you? You don't know me. You don't know what I've been through. You have the nerve to tell me that you love me on the anniversary of my wife’s death? Are you out of your mind?”
Understanding and realization hit me like an arrow to the heart, completely deflating every good feeling I had earlier. That’s why he has been acting so strangely all day. Somehow, my feelings for Rome have done a fantastic job of making me forget that he is a widower. He loved someone before me and she died, and her death has been the catalyst for his fear of commitment ever since.
I take a deep breath and swallow hard, trying my best not to be offended. “Rome, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I couldn't have possibly known that today is the anniversary of her death. You can't blame me for not knowing that.”
“Maybe not,” he says as tears fill his eyes. “But maybe you should've picked up on the clues and not dropped this bomb on me. I don't do love. Do you understand? Love has been nothing but poison in my life, killing everyone I've cared about. I refuse to feel it. I refuse to accept it. I don't want it. I don't fucking love you!”
“I'm not asking you to feel it,” I say as I begin to cry. “I just wanted you to know how I feel.”
“Stop it!” he bellows.
“ You stop it, Rome,” I fire back. “I love you, whether you like it or not, but you can't keep forcing me to compete with your dead wife. If you can't give your heart to me, then what are we even doing?”
“We’re not doing fucking anything, Nia, because we’re done!” he screams as tears cascade down his cheeks. He stands there, crying his eyes out as he stares at me, somehow still defiant even as he weeps.
“Done?” I ask. “We’re done ? You're ending it because I love you? Rome, this doesn't make any sense.”
“I don't give a fuck if it makes sense to you. You could never understand.”
“Then fucking make me. You don't get to tell me that I won't understand something, and then don't even try to break it down for me so that I can. You don't get to just run away from how perfect we are for each other just because you're scared.”
“I'm not scared ,” he shrieks, but his words are barely audible through his sobs.
“Bullshit. I love you, and you know what else? I think you love me, too.”
“Stop. No I don't.”
“Yes you do. You're just too much of a coward to admit it.”
Tears stream down both of our faces as we stand in front of each other like two boxers squaring off. Rome’s face is showered in tears, his aura of invincibility completely dismantled as he breaks down and succumbs to vulnerability. I don't know what else to say, so silence screams in my ears until Rome stands up straight and takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure.
“I don't care what you think,” he says, fighting back an onslaught of tears. “But I don't love you … and I never will.”
His words break my resolve, sending me plunging into sadness that cracks my heart. I want to respond—to cuss him out, to fight for us, to call him pitiful and weak, to beg for him not to do this—but he doesn't give me time to. I watch in pure shock and dismay as Rome turns on his heel, opens my front door, and slams it shut behind him. I feel the pain of his absence in an instant, and the cracks he put in my heart give way, shattering me into a million irreparable pieces.