14. Antonio
14
Antonio
A h, shit. Never again.
I wake up with the worst headache I’ve had in months. I can’t believe I let Colette convince me to drink after so many months of sobriety. She moves under the sheets, snuggling closer to me, and her warmth radiates through me. I brush some hair from her face and kiss her cheek.
Best hangover ever.
I get out of bed, plodding down to the kitchen. I chug a bottle of cold water and resist the nausea that assaults me. Shit, how did I ever enjoy this? I take a second bottle and settle on the stool, pressing the bottle against my head, hoping it dulls the throbbing.
Last night was amazing, and though Colette and I have had sex a million times, it felt special. Would have been perfect, save for the overwhelming guilt that clawed at me the whole night.
I still can’t process the fact that Henry sold out his sister. Memories of mine, lying on the floor with slit wrists in a pool of her own blood, flood my already battered brain. It was a sight that no child had to see.
While therapy has been helping with that, the knowledge of what Colette suffered at the hand of her monster of an ex-husband rips the scars open, making the pain of that loss fresh in my mind.
Two women suffered for the crimes of greedy, distant men. While I love Henry, that’s all I can see him as now. A greedy money grabber with a fucked-up sense of loyalty. What in the world was more important than family?
By not reacting and processing the information, I have allowed it to fester inside me, until all I feel is nothing but disgust for my friend. I’m torn between telling Colette all I know, and confronting Henry.
I realize it’s not my place to tell her about it. Plus, knowing how rattled she is about her divorce, all I’m going to do is cause her more pain. I’d love to expose Henry for the sleazy bastard that he is, but there’s no way to do it without harming Colette.
So, I sit there, stewing, angry, and with my hands tied. My anger and frustration compound the intense headache from my hangover. I should have stopped at one glass, although it’s pretty pointless to think about that now.
Fuck you, Henry.
I can’t just let this go, though. It would be a betrayal to Colette if I do. I go back upstairs and look at Colette sprawled on the bed, the covers in a heap beside her. I wonder what she’d tell Henry when he discovers she didn’t sleep at home last night. Especially with her not wanting him to find out about us. Honestly, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass if he finds out now. He’s lost every right to judge about her.
Resisting the urge to join her in bed, I head to the bathroom for a cold shower. Feeling much better, but still hungover, I get dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants and step out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind me.
The sun’s pretty high in the sky when I step onto the porch. It’s much later than I would have liked. I head straight over to Henry's place. There’s no point calling ahead—this conversation needs to happen face-to-face.
My strides are heavy as I make my way across the grounds separating our neighboring houses. When I get to Henry's front door, I don't bother ringing the bell. I just bang my fist against the heavy oak in a series of dull, reverberating thuds. A few tense moments pass before the door swings inward, revealing a startled-looking Henry in a rumpled robe and slippers.
"Antonio?" He blinks, raking a hand through his disheveled hair. "What's going on, man? You look like hell."
"We need to talk," my voice comes out lower, gravelly with restrained emotion. "It's about Colette... and her ex-husband."
He blinks in confusion for a moment, but that’s replaced with wariness as he stiffens, glancing up the stairs. Colette, he assumes, is upstairs, and he doesn't want her to overhear what I have to say. He steels himself, drawing in a deep, fortifying breath before meeting my gaze.
"Let's talk in the study." With a curt nod, he turns on his heel and heads deeper into the house.
I follow, clenching and unclenching my fists at my sides to maintain some semblance of control. The anger is building, a raging inferno stoking hotter with every passing second.
He steps into the study, and I follow, slamming the door behind me, my entire body trembling with rage. I can still feel the wine from last night sitting heavy in my gut, threatening to force its way out and ruin the plush carpet on the floor. I ignore the nausea and the pounding headache from the lingering hangover, gritting my teeth with fierce determination. None of that matters right now. I need to get some damn answers.
Henry settles behind his oak desk, steepling his fingers beneath his chin as he regards me with resignation. “I understand that you’re upset about what you heard. As much as the situation sucked for her, it's been over for a while now. Do we need to unearth this?”
A harsh bark of laughter escapes me before I can rein it in. “‘Sucked’ doesn't even cover the hell that prick put her through.”
Dropping into the chair opposite him, I lean forward and brace my hands on the edge of the desk, holding Henry's gaze with laser focus. “Did you know he used to beat her, rape her? Degrade her and make her feel worthless. Treat her worse than a piece of trash?”
Henry's composure cracks at that, and he looks away. Pain flashes across his face, but I don't care. He needs to feel this, to understand the depth of his betrayal.
“Antonio, I…” He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. “I never meant for any of that to happen. It was just supposed to be a business deal, a merger of assets. I did not know he would—”
“You did not know?” I cut him off with a humorless laugh. “Bullshit. Come on, Henry. You knew what kind of man he was. And you still threw Colette to the wolves for your own gain.”
His jaw tightens and a spark of defiance flares in his eyes. “You don't understand. My father was on the brink of ruin. The company, our legacy, everything was about to crumble. I had to save it all.”
“At the expense of your sister?” I shake my head in disgust. “That's no excuse. There's no justifying what you did. Are you fucking kidding me right now? You enabled your own sister's descent into a real-life nightmare of emotional and physical torment. Don’t you fucking get it?”
I’m yelling now, mindless to anyone who cares to eavesdrop. Henry has the decency to flinch, but his chin remains jutted forward as he glares at me. “You don't understand shit about it, Antonio. You weren't there, you didn't see—”
“I didn't see?” I echo. “Open your goddamn eyes, Henry! I've seen it, alright. The aftermath of one of your precious arranged marriages destroyed my family! Killed my sister!”
The accusation hangs heavy between us, dense and palpable in the air. Henry pales, looking for all the world like I slugged him in the gut. And then his face hardens, and his expression turns angry.
"And what business is it of yours, anyway?" Henry snaps, his temper flaring. "Since when do you care so much about Colette's well-being?"
I freeze, realizing my mistake. In my anger, I've let too much slip. Henry's eyes narrow as he scrutinizes me, putting the pieces together. "Wait..." his voice is low. "Are you... Are you fucking my sister?"
Shit. I didn’t think this through .
I open my mouth, but no words come out. Henry's face contorts with fury, and he lunges forward, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt. "You son of a bitch!" he roars, spittle flying from his lips. "How dare you touch her? After everything she's been through?"
I shove him off me, my anger rising to meet his. “Colette and I are consenting adults, Henry. You have no right to tell either of us what we should or shouldn’t be doing with each other.”
He lunges across the desk and punches me, a solid haymaker that catches me right in the jaw. It happens so fast that I can’t react in time, the force of the blow making me stagger backwards.
“Fuck you, Antonio. You’re nothing but a piece of shit.”
I rub my jaw in shock, and it takes every bit of self-control inside me to resist the urge to return to the attack. I glance at my hand and see a hint of red. For the first time in my life, Henry has drawn my blood.
I straighten and look him dead in the eyes. "Don't act like you have some moral high ground here, Henry. Not after what you did."
"I was trying to protect her!" he shouts, jabbing a finger at me. "From assholes like you who would take advantage of her fragile state."
His words cut deep, and for a moment, doubt creeps in. Am I taking advantage of Colette? No, I shake my head, pushing the thought away. What we have is real, even if it's complicated. "I would never hurt her," I growl, getting in his face. "Not like you did."
He laughs at me. “You’re one to talk, fucking drugged out junkie,” he sneers, a hateful look in his eyes. “Look at you. Leo sent you out here to get clean, and here you are, just a few weeks later, hungover as a fucking hobo. You couldn’t even stay clean for a few weeks. I bet you’re a few days away from a complete relapse. You have no right to judge me.”
His words hit me with more force than his punch, rocking me backwards. I stare at him, searching for the right words to say. I can’t believe he went there, throwing my problem with drugs in my face. At that moment, I didn’t see my friend. I see a hateful bastard.
There’s a satisfied look in his eyes. He said what he said, intending to hurt me, and he succeeded. "Get out," Henry rasps. "Just…get out of my house."
I don't argue. I turn around and stalk out of the room. Don’t think about it. Keep your mind blank. Don’t process his words . I walk out of the house, letting the front door slam shut behind me. As I descend the steps, I collide with Colette, who's rushing up the path. "Antonio!" Her eyes widen with surprise and concern. "What's going on? I heard shouting."
I shake my head, unable to meet her gaze. "It's nothing. Just…leave it alone, Col."
Before she can protest, I brush past her and head down the driveway, towards the street. I can't face her right now, not with everything swirling inside me. I need space, time to process this cluster of fuck of fucking emotions.
I walk into my driveway but stop. I don’t want to be home right now. Where can I go? My house feels too isolated, too confining right now. I'll end up stewing in my own thoughts. I need a distraction, someone to talk to. Plus, knowing Henry, he’s going to come over later when he processes the fact that I am involved with his sister.
Without thinking, I walk past my house, further down the street to a house just down the corner to Elias’s. I hope he’s home. Now, more than ever, I need to vent to someone. And I can’t think of anyone else. He's been a good friend so far, a non-judgmental ear when I've needed one. Maybe he can help me sort through this mess because I may lose my mind if I’m alone right now.
I’m at his door a few minutes later, banging on it. It takes a minute, but, I hear the deadbolt turn, and the door swings open. Elias blinks at me in surprise, taking in my disheveled appearance.
"Antonio? What's going on, man?"
I must look as wrecked as I feel because he ushers me inside without further question. I follow him into the living room and collapse onto his worn couch, scrubbing a hand over my face.
"Do you want to tell me what has you looking like you went ten rounds with a heavyweight?" Elias asks, settling into an armchair across from me.
I snort, dropping my hand. "Feels that way. It's…it's Henry, Colette’s brother. He did something very fucked up, and I…I confronted him about it."
Elias nods. “Okay. Are you going to tell me what he did?”
I glance up at him, wondering if I want to put Colette’s business out there in the open. Ah, what the hell, I think, after some moments. How much more fucked up can this get?
I tell him everything. Well, not everything, just enough for him to know that Colette was in a real ugly marriage. I tell him about my conversation with the butler, and my confrontation with Henry last night.
He’s a fantastic listener and remains quiet throughout my entire tirade. He nods with understanding and says, "Ah, I see. And I take it the conversation didn't go well?"
"That's an understatement." I shake my head, the anger and hurt still fresh. "He admitted to arranging the whole thing, Elias. For business. He fucking sold his own sister to some abusive prick, all for the family company."
Elias's brow furrows, but he remains silent, letting me vent.
"And then..." I suck in a ragged breath. "He figured out that Colette and I have been…involved. He accused me of taking advantage of her, of being just another asshole who will hurt her."
Elias leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "That's a lot to take in, man. I can see why you're so rattled."
"You're telling me," I mutter, raking my fingers through my hair. "The worst part is, Henry threw my sobriety in my face, like a cheap shot. Accused me of being on the verge of relapsing because I had a couple glasses of wine last night. ”
I feel so betrayed. He’s my oldest friend. Why did he throw something like that out there, rubbing my shit in my face? He should understand, more than anyone else. And yet, he still said it to hurt me.
I hate sounding like I’m whining, so I decide to seethe in silence.
The memory still stings, dredging up old feelings of shame and worthlessness. Elias's expression softens with sympathy.
"That was a low blow," he breathes. "Especially coming from someone who's supposed to be your best friend."
Exactly!
I’m tempted to explode, but I hold back my rage, lurching to my feet and pacing the room. After everything we've been through, everything I've overcome, how could he say that to me? Like I'm some kind of lost cause, doomed to fall back into addiction.
Elias watches me pace, his eyes calm and understanding. "I think you need to look at this from Henry's perspective, as hard as that might be."
I whirl around him, ready to protest, but he holds up a hand to stop me.
"Hear me out. Henry made a grave mistake talking about your past. But , what he said, he said from a place of hurt. While that’s not an excuse, it’s still the truth. I guarantee you he’s back there right now, wishing he’d reacted differently.
“We do crazy things when we are hurt. Come on, Antonio, the man just found out you’re shagging his sister. Can’t have been an easy pill for him to swallow. You knew it would come to this, so for that sake, although I know this isn’t what you want to hear, maybe you should try to forgive him.”
I frown. “This is not my mess to fix.”
“You are right. Colette is caught up in all of this, and it won't go away if you choose to ignore it. It isn't your mess to fix, but you should address it. It will become her problem to solve. Do it for her sake, even if not for his,” Elias says, his voice reasonable.
I’m annoyed by his calmness that makes it seem like I’m being irrational, but he’s right, although I don’t care to admit it. I cannot leave Colette to face this all on her own.
“Well, he’s the reason she got hurt in the first place,” I yell, feeling the anger course through me again, rising high.
“That means he’s dealing with guilt now, a shit ton of it.”
“Good. He should feel guilty. He deserves even worse than that.”
Elias nods and then exhales. “Notwithstanding, Antonio. He’s right on one count. You shouldn’t have been drinking again, no matter the reason. Not so soon after rehab. Kinda defeats the purpose of all this.”
I groan and lean into the couch. “Not a sermon from you too, Elias.” I rub my eyes. “It was a mistake. A stupid one. One I won’t be repeating soon.”
“Good. I trust you.” He gets up from his seat and pokes at my jaw with a finger. “We should put some ice on that before it turns purple. I have some in the kitchen.”
“Sure. Lucky bastard caught me with a sucker punch.” I cock a brow at him. “What the hell are you, anyway? Some kind of therapist?”
He smiles at me. “Not exactly. I did study psychology though, and I’ve done some work with some patients who had bad tempers. And trust me, I’ve had my fair share.”
I remember his backstory with his abusive stepfather, and it makes sense.
“Huh,” I say, chuckling as I close my eyes. “Figures.”