Chapter 16
Friday was the best and the worst day of my whole existence.
From watching her parade around with that idiot to nearly killing him while unscrewing the lid on twenty-three years of buried memories, to kissing her and confessing about Jake and not fucking stopping there, but also taking her to see him. And as if the day couldn’t get any more complicated, I went into her bedroom when my restraint was hanging by a thread.
I lost it when I saw the picture of myself on her wall. I couldn’t make sense of why she would care that deeply for me the way she does. Why she considered me as one of the people she cherishes enough to take pictures of and hang on the walls of her bedroom.
I was bound to do something stupid, so I should have walked out and let the swell in my chest boil to a stop. But instead, I let it bubble until it was spilling. And when she took off her dress, I was gone.
I was a gone man.
And whatever hell I was in got worse when I found out she had given me the gift of being her first.
I grate my teeth and glower at the sun bouncing on the screen of the car.
“If I could choose, Fabio De Luca, I would still choose you to be my husband.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
No matter how much I try, her words won’t stop haunting me. Her gift of herself won’t stop crawling inside of me like special blood with a separate connection to my heart.
Every one of my efforts is going to waste. Every time I feel I have something that will make her shrink and decide to look in the other direction, she comes back stronger. She puts my efforts to shame. She puts me in my place by taking control of what she feels for me.
I crank up the AC of the car, and rock music blares through the speakers.
If I continue to fill my time and mind with menial things, the guilt will keep lessening. The guilt that I have tasted her, and I want more.
I should draw the line, but I cannot. I am not strong enough.
I am mad at her for keeping that truth from me. She should have fucking told me it was her first time. I should have fucking listened to my guts. But I didn’t want to ask and make her feel uncomfortable in the slightest of ways.
Why would I care about the men she has been with? It didn’t make any sense to me to ask and have more reasons to want to go on a killing spree.
Shit!
I slam my hand on the steering wheel and open my phone to see the photo of Jake dressed for school that Mindy sent to me a few hours ago. I love him, and I love having pictures of him. But his picture does nothing to improve my messed-up mood.
I am fucked over.
My self-control is slacking.
I know she will accept me, and we can kick off from there, but now, more than ever, I know I cannot let her choose me.
Her decision making will not be unbiased, she’ll want me now because I am her first.
I swipe to another picture of Jake with a smile on his face, and I smile, too. He does look like a mini-me, although I cannot remember the last time I smiled as widely as he did. I must have been his age or younger when I stopped smiling like the world is fucking Disneyland.
I keep swiping through more pictures of him.
I need a better distraction. Anything at all will do. A night out or some time away. But that is another problem because I don’t want to be away from Eva. The constant confusion of wanting to be chosen by her and not wanting to give myself to her is fucking with my mind.
Eva steps out with Gloria. She is wearing gray sweatpants and a pink T-shirt, and Gloria is wearing a blue dress with angry stripes of some plant.
I watch through the rearview mirror as Eva halts a few steps away from the car. She is chatting away and Gloria has a small smile on her face, and occasionally, she throws her head back, cackling like she is having the best fucking time of her life at the expense of whomever Eva is talking about.
I want to know what they are on about because I had asked Eva to be quiet while driving her down here, and surprisingly, she was and it was complete torture.
I wanted to hear her voice. I wanted her to prod me with her words, but she gave me what I asked for, not what I wanted. I slit my eyes, and I look around to see if Paul will make an entrance.
I saw him go in and then leave in a hurry, his phone to his ear and his steps like he was late for something. I was tempted to get out of the car and continue from where I had left off, but I know better. I have made too many crazy decisions the past week; I can’t stand to make another.
Eva leans in to kiss Gloria goodbye, and Gloria waves at her as she strides toward the car. I sit straight, clear my throat and try to plead my heart to quiet the fuck down.
She opens the passenger seat and climbs in, my heart leaping at the closeness like some dog playing fetch.
“Eva,” I clear my throat. “How was…”
“Fabio,” she straps her seatbelt on. “Fine.”
“I was asking about your lectures,” I needed to start a conversation or risk another drive home with her keeping quiet. I hadn’t meant to get her to shut up all morning around me.
“I know, fine,” she shrugs.
“About this morning…”
“This morning?” She laughs, harder than I have ever heard Gloria do. Her head falls to the side as she sneers at me. “This morning?”
“I didn’t mean to shut you up like that,” I go ahead to make my case regardless of the sneer darting at me.
“You regret having sex with me, don’t you?” She scoffs.
“I do not regret having sex with you,” I grit. I cannot regret having sex with her. I regret nothing, and maybe that is where the problem lies. That I am trying so hard to feel guilty, to feel bad, but the core part of my heart feels fucking good that it happened, and it was me who got to have her first.
It’s a shameless thing to think of, but behind my cloud of guilt, it’s the truth lurking.
“I don’t care anymore, Fabio. I am exhausted from having to play this ‘want, don’t want’ game with you,” she leans back to drop her bag on the backseat. “You can do whatever you want with yourself, but please, try not to confuse me.”
“Eva, I do not regret having sex with you.”
“It doesn’t feel that way,” she snaps. “It doesn’t feel that way,” she throws her hands in the air. “God, I hate you,” she sniffs. “I hate you so much, Fabio,” she brushes her hands through her hair and deflates with a deep breath.
That makes two of us.
“I am sorry.” It’s all I can squeeze out of my throat.
“Of course,” she nods. “Drive, please. Get me home so I can get away from you as soon as possible,” she folds her arms across her chest. “I should request for someone else to keep watch over me but I can’t because my father will ask questions, and I don’t have answers to offer,” she looks outside the window. “This shouldn’t be so hard,” she tilts her head so she is facing my profile.
I crush the steering wheel, thinking to myself why it seems so fucking difficult.
Why can I no longer make sense of the reason I had told myself it was best for her to stay away? Why is everything blurring out, and the only thing that seems to make sense is her? Why? How is she doing it?
I let go of the steering wheel and face her.
“Come,” I undo her seatbelt, but she stays put, sneering at me, “Eva, please,” I flip my hand to call her to myself, but she rotates her eyes and sucks on her teeth.
“Get me home,” she spurts.
I reach for her, but she slaps my hand away. It doesn’t stop me, neither does she stop at that. She keeps trying to slap my hands away. I find hold on to her face and I kiss her.
I kiss her, needing to extract some of her optimism about us, that is making her so fucking positive that this can happen. That we can happen. I need some of her strength. I am too frightened by the idea of her getting tired of me at some point. I can’t deal with the fact that she will someday look at me like I stole her youth from her.
I need what is making her so fucking assertive.
She peels herself away from me, and I expect a smack, but she grunts instead, balling her fists.
“You stay away from me, Fabio De Luca,” she points at me. “I am done with you,” she straps her seatbelt back on. “I intend to keep the last shreds of my dignity.”
“I know I might be…” A call booms through the car speakers, interrupting what would have been my first-ever confession of my fears about us. I forgot I had my phone connected to the car”s Bluetooth.
I search for it, and I find it stuck in the corner of the seat. I see Mindy’s name on the screen. Worst fucking timing ever.
“It’s Mindy,” I flip the phone to Eva and show her the screen. “But it can wait.” She’s probably just telling me about another fucking PTA meeting Jake has been begging me to show up for. Never seen a child who wants to flaunt his father as much as the boy.
What’s there to fucking flaunt?
The call ends and immediately starts again.
“I think you should get that,” Eva’s voice is solemn now. I nod and get the phone. Mindy never calls twice.
“Mindy,” I go first.
“Why didn’t you tell me you would be picking up Jake?”
“What? I never pick him up.”
“What do you mean? When I went to pick him up at his school, I was told his father had picked him up.”
“His father?” I go cold, “You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”
“No, for goodness’ sake, if he is not with you, then…” she can barely complete the sentence. “Oh dear lord, where is he?”
No one knows about Jake except me and her. No one knows I am his father except me and Mindy. Mindy doesn’t have the kind of circle that would put Jake at risk.
If it is what I think it is, then it is my fault.
How is it possible when I haven’t told anyone?
My head snaps to Eva.
Anyone but Eva.