Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
Ex Problems
Raf
I have never felt like a bigger piece of shit than when Chiara left my office.
Not only because I was the reason she spiraled into a panic attack, but because the information that caused it wasn’t the total sum.
The total sum of it would break her, and I don’t think I’m strong enough to bear witness.
Until I speak with AJ to clear up what Alessandro put in that letter, I can’t divulge more than I have. Is it fucked that I talk of the importance of trust and yet here I am gatekeeping not just what was in the envelope addressed to her but also my own trust issues?
The buzzing in my brain is too much, only interrupted by the buzzing of the burner in my pocket.
Unknown:
Please, Bella Mia. Meet me. Come back to me.
Give me a chance to explain everything. I didn’t want to leave.
AJ made me, and he cut me off from having any way to get in contact.
That’s why I searched high and low until I found you.
Seeing you has only made me more desperate to start our life together.
Just give me fifteen minutes. Tell me where.
I’m still in shock you’re here. I need more time.
Unknown:
What does that mean? Hours? Days? Weeks? I have already gone years without you.
I don’t know. How long does it take to get over dead parents?
Unknown:
I can tell you everything about who did it. I promise.
I leave him on read because I’ve been fielding versions of this same message since that fucking letter I was never meant to find became my blessing and curse. Just one more day and I can get some clarity on what the fuck AJ has to do with it all.
I shove the blasted thing in my bag and tidy my desk.
I don’t want to be here. I have so much work to do, but I need to release this nervous energy pumping through me.
While I made the mature, well-adjusted decision and sent Chiara to a therapy session, I decide I probably need my version of therapy, the type that helps me get a handle on my emotions in a more volatile way.
Once I’m fully packed, I quickly change into the workout gear I keep in my office, grab my bag with my laptop in it, lock my door, and stride out of the office without so much as a backward glance at the junior lawyers gaping at me.
Needless to say, witnessing me leaving the office, in gym gear no less, before 8 p.m. is probably akin to a Loch Ness monster sighting.
I don’t pass my father’s office to collect the lecture that is no doubt waiting for me.
And I don’t stop to tell Janice to clear my calendar.
She’ll have too many questions—even if she doesn’t ask them with her mouth.
I simply step into the elevator and send her a Teams message asking her to reschedule all my appointments for the afternoon.
Then I get in my car and tell my driver to go directly to Johnny’s. Until I find a way to take out my frustration and pure contempt on the faces of evil that steal the sunshine out of my woman’s eyes, a boxing bag will have to do.
When I walk into the ring, I expect our usually reserved spot to be free, except it’s not. Seb is already there.
“What are you doing here?” I ask by way of greeting.
“What the fuck does it look like,” he responds between jabs and pants before stopping and resting his hands on his hips while trying to get his breathing under control.
Once he does, the Spanish Inquisition begins.
“The bigger question is what the fuck are you doing here? It’s three in the afternoon. ”
“I need to let off some steam. Dad was up to his antics today and I can’t fucking deal,” I say.
“Oh yeah. What’s he in a tizzy about now?” asks Seb before taking a swig of water.
“He’s sending me to a schmoozey dinner tonight and tried to fucking organize my date for me.”
Seb spits what’s left out of his mouth as he coughs on his laughter.
“Oh my God, bro, that’s diabolical. I hope you told him where to shove it.”
“No. Chiara did.”
Seb barks out a laugh. “Oh I bet she did. But please explain.”
“She dropped in to have some paperwork signed, and Dad barged into the office while she was there. It was a humiliating and gratifying experience.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Raf…why do you have this weird look on your face?”
“What weird look? My face is my face.”
“Raaaafff,” he says in a sing-song voice. “Have you been indulging in other gratifying experiences with your roommate?”
“None of your business.”
“Raf, it’s okay. Remember this is a safe space. We listen and we don’t judge, as Luca would say.”
“What would Luca say?” asks the man himself, as if just mentioning his name conjured him out of thin air.
“Well, baby bro. It would appear that our big bro has been sampling the live-in goods.”
“I didn’t fucking say that,” I seethe.
“No. But your face did,” claps back Seb.
“I’m proud of you,” says Luca, now by my side and patting my back.
I shrug him off. “There’s nothing to fucking report.”
“I call bullshit,” says Luca.
“Oh I definitely call bullshit. After having to look at Marco’s lovesick face for the last few months, I’d know that look even in my sleep.”
“You know what this means, Seb?”
“Tell me what this means, Lu.”
“We’re going on an adventure to the tattoo parlor! That was the bet right?”
“Why the fuck are you both here? Can’t I come and punch the fuck out of the bag in peace?” I snap.
“Now what fun would that be?” says Luca, pouting at me. He really is such a troll sometimes.
“What the fuck are you doing here anyway?” I ask him.
“Well it’s either burn the whole world down or punch a hole through the bag,” he says more soberly this time.
“Why? What happened?” I ask.
“Marco was right. Arabella isn’t coming back. Indefinitely. Worse than that, she wants us to cut ties completely. She said she needs to be completely alone with no reminders of her past.”
He looks so sad and broken.
“I just don’t get it. Now that I know the truth about that night, we can work through it together. But she’s adamant she’ll never be able to heal if I’m in her life. And fuck if that doesn’t cut to the core.”
He’s got his gloves on now and is lashing out at the bag, while Seb watches on with a faraway look in his eyes.
“What about you?” I ask Seb. “Why are you here punching the bag like it’s your worst enemy?”
“Evie is hiding something from me,” he says.
“How do you know?”
“I just do. She’s vibrating with this anxious energy, and I know she’s working on a big project, but something isn’t right,” says Seb. “She seems extra stressed.”
“Did you ask her about it?”
“Of course I fucking did,” Seb sighs.
“And, what did she say?”
“She said, ‘I’m fine’.”
“So what’s the problem?” I say.
“You better get versed in woman speak real soon, Raf,” comes a familiar voice from behind us.
We all turn to find Marco grinning at us like a Cheshire cat.
“When a woman says she’s fine, she is most definitely not fine. Trust me on that one.”
“Oh, thank you, Love God. I forgot you have a PhD in relationships these days,” mocks Seb.
“I didn’t realize you were in a relationship,” I say, raising my eyebrows at Seb.
“I’m pleading the fifth,” he counters before turning question time back on Marco. “What are you doing here, bro? Sophia will have your balls—and all of ours—in a vice if she knows you’re training.”
“I got the all-clear this week. Training and sex now back on the table—thank the Lord above,” he says, crossing himself.
“Please remind me to never eat on your table,” grumbles Luca.
“Who pissed in his Cheerios?” asks Marco, thumbing at Luca.
“Arabella,” Luca says.
“Ah. So she told you she’s left New York indefinitely?” asks Marco.
“Yep,” says Luca, popping the p as he lands a kick to the bag. “And that she needs space.”
“Listen, if you’re meant to be, life will bring you back together. Look at me and Sophia.”
“Well you two do kinda make it hard not to with your constant canoodling,” says Seb.
“Get used to it, brother. Tomorrow I’m making it official. On that note, you all better fix your faces. You look like a bunch of sad sacks. Mind you, I’m the one who took a bullet and hasn’t been able to get any in months.”
“As always, too much information,” I say.
“Well, Raf, if my information sources are correct, I believe you have an event in T-minus two hours and a certain pint-size devil who happens to be my cousin is your date.”
“Your point?” I ask.
“You two seem to be getting on well.” Marco smirks. “How’s that abstinence going? Or are we all going on a group excursion to the tattoo parlor.”
“I’ve got a whole Pinterest board of design inspiration if you need it,” says Seb.
“What the fuck is Pinterest?” I ask.
“Oh Raf, Raf, Raf. You have so much to learn,” Seb tuts.
“No, I have approximately forty-five minutes to punch the living shit out of that bag so I can survive a dinner I don’t want to fucking attend, when I’d much rather drink scotch and smoke my cigars in peace,” I say. “Now does that answer everyone’s questions? Good.”
“Does she call you Daddy?” asks Luca. “’Cause I can totally see it.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you’ve lost the fucking bet. Hard.”
I don’t deny him, instead shoving him towards the middle of the ring and squaring up.
“Let’s go. If you manage to win all three rounds, baby bro, I get a tattoo and you get to pick the design. But if I win, I get to choose yours.”
“Oh I am so glad I snuck out of the house for this,” says Marco, rubbing his hands.
“I thought you got the all-clear?” Seb says.
“Oh, I did, but Nurse Sophia didn’t agree,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Apparently she doesn’t trust the doctor’s opinion because her degree in Doctor Google suggests a longer recovery time.”
“Well for the record, I didn’t see you here,” says Seb, snickering. “But let’s go, I’ll ease you into it. Those two clearly have bigger demons to chase.”
“Just watch the face. This weekend is kinda a big deal.”
“Bro, there’s no way I am leaving evidence that will implicate me. I like my balls attached.”
“Okay, Thelma and Louise. Can one of you please just fucking start the clock,” I call out.