Chapter Four #2
Carlo, my wild-hearted boy, my lion. You’ve always been fierce in your convictions, but I must say once more what I told you in life; put aside that headstrong defiance.
It may have shielded you once, but it will not carry you forward.
I’ve lived long enough to know that happiness is a rare phenomenon, and it never grows in the soil of old grudges.
Let go of what darkens your path, even if you cannot forgive it.
Bitterness only burns the one who holds it.
Spencer, my steady, thoughtful soul. You carried burdens you were never meant to bear.
I saw how you loved, how you held things in to protect others.
But life isn’t something to survive, it’s something to live.
And love, in whatever form it arrives, is never shameful.
Not once did I question the depth of what you and Carlo shared.
It became apparent in the silences, the glances, and the years.
And Chess . . . Oh, that brave girl. She never stopped loving you; either of you. Her spirit endured more than most, and yet she gave everything she had to the people she loved. You must honor her not with grief but with joy. Let her memory urge you toward light, not shadow.
This world will always have bystanders—people with opinions that weigh nothing but speak loudly. Don’t give them your peace. Live boldly. Love hard. Go forth and conquer, boys. Disregard bitterness. And never, ever settle for half a life.
I’ll be watching from wherever the sun kisses the earth goodnight. You’ll know I’m there when the sky turns gold.
All my love,
Nonna
That September, only two months after Nonna’s death, Carlo enrolled in a business degree correspondence course.
He was too loyal to leave his job. The hotel chain had sponsored his hotel management course and he was grateful, they believed in him when nobody else would give him a chance.
Until this point, Carlo and I had been unfamiliar with such generosity.
But he was doing this new course for him.
Over the next couple of years, his loyalty paid off. By this stage, his financial position meant that on paper he didn’t need to work, but he never even reduced his hours to incorporate his studies, seeming to need the routine.
When the hotel chain shares became available, he bought them and in no time became a major shareholder.
I’ve always been proud to call Carlo my friend—he was my constant, my anchor. But as we grew older, it became harder to hide the way we felt about each other.
Our friends teased us in good humor, never suspecting the truth, but every joke scraped against something raw inside me. I was ashamed of the love I had for Carlo—love that went far beyond brotherhood.
Carlo, always more at ease with himself, occasionally suggested we be honest and stop hiding our love. But he never pushed for it; instead, agreeing to keep our physical connection private, protecting me from a truth I wasn’t ready to face.
Consciously I worked out harder in the gym, honing my fighting skills and in my mind, increasing my masculinity.
“Sorry, Spencer, can I stop you there for a moment?” Dr. Klein’s voice breaks through my thoughts.
I glance up at her, waiting for her to quiz me.
“It sounds like Carlo accepted you even when you couldn’t fully accept yourself. What was that like . . . to be loved that patiently?”
There’s a sound in my head—low, insistent, impossible to name.
It’s been there for weeks, humming at the edge of everything. But when she says those words, it’s deafening.
“Do you think,” she asks softly, “you’ve kept your love for Carlo hidden . . . because that’s the only way it seems safe?”
I wobble my head. Not to disagree, just trying to shake off the noise. To keep it from taking over.
My legs are unsteady, like they’re done holding me up.
I sink into the nearest upright chair, deliberately ignoring the other one across the room, the one I’d abandoned when this all started.
The room descended into silence, but I couldn’t hear it for the noise that persisted in my head.
I tried to focus on the ticking of the clock.
The scratching of her pen nib.
But both were drowned out.
“It’s okay. Let’s take a moment.”
Her voice is even, her posture unthreatening, but they still send a bolt of concern up my spine, straightening my back. I glance at her, I’m more vulnerable than I have been in years.
“You don’t need to speak right now. Just breathe. Let your body catch up with what you’ve just accessed.”
She waits a beat, giving me space.
"When you're ready, I'd like to shift focus gently—not to dismiss anything we've touched, but to explore your relationship with your wife. Can we try that?”
I study her. As my back relaxes, each bone gently lowering, while the pressure in the material connecting them lessens.
Closing my eyes, I try to take my mind back to when I first saw Sophie. My chest still squeezes when I think of the moment, but instead of starting there, I decide to fast forward to the moment we first spoke.
I met Sophie during my second year at university. She changed everything. Meeting her shook my life up. It was such a marked improvement that I couldn’t believe it was real.
She was one of many other students in my law lectures, but as soon as I saw her across the auditorium, she stood out like a beacon.
For several weeks I watched her. She was stunning with flowing blonde hair, large, bright blue eyes, and a figure to die for. Yet my fascination for her wasn’t only to do with her physical appearance.
On the rare occasions I caught her eye, she looked at me the way Chess had looked at Carlo and our connection made my heart stop.
It took me a few days to find out her name, though when I did, Sophie Jones became my fixation. I stalked her through social media, learning everything I could about her and her best friend, Nicky.
Sophie seemed to glow with happiness; her striking blonde hair no doubt helped with the vision, but it was her free, cheerful confidence that made the room light up when she entered.
Yet even though I caught her checking me out from time to time, it took me a few weeks to summon the courage to actually speak to her.
Initially, the idea of dating another girl seemed like a betrayal of Chess’ memory.
It took several weeks to confess my concerns to Carlo, but I’m certain he was aware something was going on because I took a step back from our physical relationship.
Once I eventually summoned the confidence, he simply brushed a kiss over my lips and reminded me of Nonna’s words.
‘Live boldly. Love hard. Go forth and conquer, boys. Disregard bitterness. And never, ever settle for half a life.’
The day I finally summoned the courage to speak to her; Sophie had a crazy hangover. She and Nicky were party girls, but I’d never seen her look so pale, though she was still beautiful.
They came into the auditorium, slumped down and tried their best to blend into the background.
Impossible. Her light was too bright.
Our professor called her out because she and Nicky were wearing sunglasses inside. He forced them to remove them. I laugh. They were so out of it; it took them a minute to figure out he was talking to them.
Her gaze flicked up to meet mine, and the color rising in her cheeks said everything.
At the end of that lecture, I couldn’t have told you what our professor was talking about. I spent the entire two-hour lecture staring at her. It sounds creepy now, but I was trying to summon the courage to speak to her.
Her friend saw and whispered something to Sophie, making her glance at me.
Rupert and I got out of the room as fast as we could. Rupert had the hots for Nicky, so he was more than happy to wait for their exit with me.
When they came out, they seemed to be aware we were there and bustled in the opposite direction, as if they hoped to escape without speaking to us.
Her need to escape shattered my confidence, but Rupert pushed his shoulder into mine, urging me forward and whispering that he’d back me up.
“Hey, sunny girls’,” I called, cringing at my terrible first line to a girl who was probably used to a far smoother delivery.
I heard her groan under her breath, “Fuck my life.”
Taking large strides, I easily caught them.
They spun around as one, with elegance, a clear display of their dance experience. Sophie’s pretty face marred by a bored expression.
“Original,” she blurted out.
Her clipped rudeness only made my smile grow wider.
“Where did you go last night?” I asked.
We glanced at each other, and I could tell my intrusive question intrigued her.
Nicky responded before Sophie had the chance.
“The Oxford Press had a karaoke night,” she said, sliding her arm through Sophie’s as if she needed the support. “Apparently, we can sing when we’ve had a skinful.”
She finished her sentence with a cute shrug.
Rupert sidled up next to me, blatantly checking Nicky out.
“I wish I’d seen that,” Rupert muttered.
He directed his remark straight at Nicky.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Sophie. Up close, she was even more beautiful. The blue of her irises were ringed with a much darker blue that was almost black. Somehow, the contrast seemed to make the color pop, and in that moment, I never wanted her to look away from me.
She chewed on the inside of her plump bottom lip, and my eyes uncontrollably followed the movement.
“Come down to The Bridge tomorrow night,” I ordered.
I didn’t intend to be so bossy. My nerves just took over. I tried to cover my command by filling the silence.
“One of our friend’s band’s is playing down there. It promises to be a good night.”
Sophie seemed to flinch. I glanced down to see Nicky was gripping firmly onto Sophie’s arm. I wasn’t a hundred percent certain what that meant, but I took the gesture as hopeful.
Until she wrinkled her nose at my invitation. She inhaled deeply, stealing all the breath from my own lungs.
“Thanks, but right now, the thought of more alcohol doesn’t fill me with joy.”
Unable to give up so easily now that I’d come this far, I stepped forward, getting so close that her delicious feminine scent surrounded me.
She looked so exhausted, I could see it was taking everything she had just to stay on her feet.
I gently slid the books that she’d tucked under her arm into my hand, my fingers brushing the skin on her forearm when I did. The contact made a tingle I’d never experienced before shoot up my hand.
“So don’t drink,” I murmured, quietly enough that only she could hear me.
I purposefully hovered over her, standing closer than a stranger usually would, using my far greater height to dominate her, in the way I’d seen Carlo do.
“I can think of so many other ways of having fun, and none of them involve artificial stimulants,” I purred, bobbing my eyebrows to confirm I was being overtly flirtatious.
Her mouth hung open, and I stroked my index finger under her chin, gently closing her gaping lips. But not before considering how the space would look filled with my cock, which had jumped to life.
I drop my hand between us and extend it to her.
“Spencer Barton-Jones, it’s a pleasure to meet you—”
“Sophie Jones,” she replied. Her voice soft, her eyes sparkling and I suspect it was the first time that day.
I couldn’t stop my smug grin.
“You’re growing more perfect by the second, Miss Jones.”
And that was it; I was hooked.