Chapter 19 ~ Alexander #2
Carlos doesn’t say anything for a little while, and then he switches the knife to his other hand and starts cleaning his other fingernails.
I grit my teeth. I know he’s baiting me.
He’s just trying to push me to see if I’ll snap.
But I’m done doing that. At the worst possible time in our lives, I lost the one thing that matters the most to me.
And I’m not doing that anymore. If he picks his nails for another hour, I’ll wait.
He keeps cleaning his nails. Scrape, scrape.
I lean back in my chair and run my hands over my face, dropping them onto my lap with defeat.
“I know I’m an asshole, and I finally broke her.”
Carlos finally stops cleaning his nails and looks up at me, his voice rough as he tries to keep his anger in check.
“You didn’t just break her, Alex, she’s shattered. You left her in a million pieces on that bedroom floor. And I don’t know if you’ll be able to pick them all up and put them back together. I don’t know if she’s ever going to forgive you, but if she does.”
He slams his knife into my desk, and it vibrates in the hole.
I jump back, “What the fuck, Carlos?”
He pulls the knife out and points at the hole left behind. His teeth are gritted together and the pulse in his jaw bounces as he glares at me.
“That mark will be left there as a reminder, and every time you see it, I want you to remember. If you ever win her back, and that’s a big fucken if, I will kick your ass, boss or not.
If you ever hurt her, leave another bruise on her body or make her cry, I will follow through on that promise. That is my vow to her and to you.”
He doesn’t say another word; he just puts his knife away and stares at me. And he’s right. If I ever win her back, I have to find her first in order to do that and make right what I destroyed.
Carlos stands up and rubs the mark on my desk.
“We’re all heading to the museum on Monday.
Danny is going to watch Anna over the weekend.
Maybe if we all showed up, including your father, she might crack.
I highly doubt it, but it’s worth a shot.
Maybe your father can get answers where we won’t be able.
She doesn’t trust us, and I don’t blame her”
He lets out a slow, calm breath. “If you don’t need me anymore tonight, I’m going home and going to bed. You should get some sleep too. You look like shit.”
I stand up and walk around the desk to hug him. I’m not a hugger, but right now, he’s all I’ve got, and I needed to hear that.
I whisper over his shoulder. “If I get her back, I’m going to treat her like the precious jewel she is. I should have done that from the start, but I was angry and blind to the truth.”
Carlos slaps my back and steps away. “Get some sleep, man. We’ll find her.”
I just put my hands on my hips, nod my head, and look at the floor.
I’m ashamed. I never thought I was this kind of man.
But then again, I never dated a normal woman, let alone married one.
The girls at the club aren’t like this. There’s no emotion or feelings involved; it’s just sex, the gratification of our bodies, and we move on.
I peer up at Carlos as he leaves me standing there.
This entire house feels empty, like the air is stagnant.
It’s too quiet and still. There is no life in this house without her in it.
Even though she hardly ever left her room, she had a presence that seemed to warm this place.
I grabbed my phone off the desk and headed up the stairs to my room.
I walk down the dark hallway and stop at her door.
It is strange not to see Sasha standing there, her glowering face looking at me with her customary nod.
I put my hand on the doorknob; it’s cold and sends a shiver up my spine.
I turn the handle and open the door. It’s dark; there are no lights on.
Isabella always had a light on. Now that I understand her better, she was afraid of the dark. She needed the light to feel safe.
I close the distance to her couch, grab the fuzzy pink blanket, and bring it to my face, inhaling deeply.
The floral scent of lilies and the one that is hers alone soothes me, and I hold the blanket in my hand and look around the room.
The floor is cleaned up, and the dried up flowers are gone.
The bowl where she was collecting the pedals is no longer on the coffee table.
I look at her bed and her suitcases are gone.
I rush over. She never unpacked, like she never intended to stay, as if she was a guest passing through.
All the signs were right in front of my face, and I didn’t notice a thing.
I go to the closet and open the door. They are all piled in the back corner.
I drag them out one by one and set them by the door.
I walk over to her studio and flick on the light.
It reminds me of the day I watched her work at the museum.
An organized mess. Her brushes are still in a jar of dark murky water, and her painting pallet is wrapped in plastic wrap on the counter next to a half-drunk cup of coffee.
I look at her easel and my breath stops.
There is an envelope with her bold handwriting.
Alexander.
I cross the floor, dragging her blanket with me, and I pick it up.
Holding the letter to my nose and I close my eyes, as if I could concentrate, I’d be able to smell her skin.
I can’t read it, not tonight. Crossing the room, going across the hall and opening my door.
I throw everything on my bed and go grab her suitcases and drag them into my closet.
I’m going to hang each fucken piece of clothing she left here beside mine.
Where I should have put them the first night, but I was pissed and told her I didn’t care where she fucken slept.
It was a lie. I wanted her beside me and should have said so. But again, my pride got in the way.
I made so many mistakes, but that ends now. Tonight.
We will track those assholes down. We will get the answers from Robert about Angelo and Isabella.
I click off the closet light and sit on my bed.
I grab her letter, open the nightstand drawer, and place it beside her jewelry box that holds her earrings that I bought her.
I never said anything when she brought everything back to my room.
I felt like she saw it as something borrowed and not the gift I had intended it to be.
In my arrogance, I thought she would accept them.
True to Isabella’s nature, she knew it didn’t mean anything.
It was the wrapping on a pretty present that she didn’t want.
She wanted the version of me I was on the night of our truce.
The man who held her and made love to her, and I will be that man for her again.
I get undressed and plug my phone in. I can’t watch her tonight. She is not there, and I toss it on the table in frustration, turning off the lamp. I gather her blanket and set it on the pillow, stroking the fuzzy material. I will make it right.
~ ~ ~
I spent Sunday driving around Chicago. Carlos and I decided we would try everything we could think of.
The airport, train station, and bus station as well.
No sign of her. She is smart. I didn’t think she would take any local transportation, but one can never underestimate her. I know I never will again.
It’s late afternoon when Carlos finally tells me that it’s time to go home.
We need to check in with all the security teams to see if anyone has spotted anything at any of the locations that we have them stationed at.
Christopher has checked in and he has grabbed a few more men, so we’re up to 10 now.
Quite the little team Robert has put together.
I chuckle inside my head. I guess the Russo underestimated the Gallos from the beginning.
Carlos joins me for dinner, and we concentrate more on Robert and what needs to be done once we get a hold of him.
He joins me for a drink after supper and heads home.
I head up to my bedroom, pausing momentarily at her door again.
That door’s going to haunt me till I find her, just like the knife mark on my desk. I need them to keep me on track.
I go into my room and go to the closet and spend the rest of my evening hanging up every single solitary piece of clothing in that suitcase.
I take her toothbrush and her toothpaste, and her night cream.
I’m putting them beside mine in my bathroom.
Maybe it’s foolish to pretend like she’s still here or that I’ll actually get her back.
But I can’t stop myself. I just need her to be a part of my room, even if she doesn’t want to be a part of my life.
On Monday, I wake up and have my coffee in my office avoiding the dining room.
It was never a good place for us, let alone sitting in there by myself staring at her empty chair, which she will never sit in again.
I think I should have that entire room redone.
Get rid of that fucking table and those stupid fucking chairs.
Pushing my cup away, I look across the room at the small little round table that we always hold our meetings at.
We should start eating in here if she ever comes back.
Christ, my chest is killing me.
Carlos texts me and tells me that the car is ready.
We’re picking up my father and going to confront Anna at the museum.
Danny is going to meet us there. Anna went to the museum early yesterday morning; she went to work and stayed there.
She never came home. So, either Isabella is still at the museum or Anna and Danny are on the outs.
And I could see it. He has divided loyalty, and so does she.
I thought my situation was fucked, but so is theirs.