She stands up, pushing her chair back with a loud squeak, and turns to leave. “I have to go.”
No.
I rise out of my seat. “Please don’t run away from me.”
She halts and slowly looks at me over her shoulder. “Rafaele, I need some time to think. This is a lot. Give me space. Please.”
What am I supposed to say to that? “Cleo—”
Before I can come up with anything, she shakes her head and slips out the door.
I rake my fingers through my hair.
She said she needs space…but she didn’t ask me to leave again. That’s progress, isn’t it? I might be getting through to her. But if I push too hard, she might pull back again.
I sink back down in my chair and drag my hands over my face. She wants space? Then I have to give it to her. I’ll give her whatever she wants. Because I’m not the one calling the shots anymore.
She’s in control.
CHAPTER 45
CLEO
Rafaele told me he loved me. His admission pulses inside my chest and seeps warmth into my veins as I rush upstairs after our conversation. I lock myself in my bedroom and make an honest attempt to untangle my thoughts and feelings.
Now that I know the full truth about what happened with Rafaele’s father, I can understand why Rafaele is the way he is. The thought of what he had to witness as a young child sends nausea churning through my gut. What he and his mother went through is horrific. I sometimes forget that our world isn’t only heartlessness toward women, but toward men too. No one is born a killer. One way or another, they are forged by their environment and by the people around them.
Rafe was visibly uncomfortable when he shared the full story with me. I could tell it was difficult for him, but he didn’t let that stop him. He told me something deeply private, deeply vulnerable about himself. How many times did I wish he’d open up to me? He finally did it.
And it didn’t feel like some tactic just to get me back. It felt genuine.
He really wants to fix this. To fix us.
Do I?
Longing snakes through me. I wanted to comfort him just now. To hug him, to kiss him, to say that everything will be okay. I managed to hold myself back though, because for once, I thought about the consequences of my actions.
If I jump back into this too quickly, driven by my raw emotions, I might regret it later on, and I don’t want to have any more regrets. I have too many already.
I curl up on the bed and scroll through the photos I have of us on my phone. There’s not many, but the few that are there make my chest clench.
The photo he asked the waitress to take of us at the Il Caminetto dinner. I look pissed as hell in that one. There’s another photo I snuck of him right before we headed to dinner at the Ferraros’。 He’s glancing at me from under his brows as he’s fixing a cuff link, a hint of amusement in his expression. There are a few from my birthday party. A posed photo I got Vale to take of us on the terrace. A selfie from the afterparty. He’s smiling, looking at me instead of the camera.
Cleo, when I look at you, I see the entire universe. It took losing you for me to understand that you are everything to me.
That flicker of hope comes alive inside my chest again. Only now, instead of stomping it out, I allow the memory of our conversation to feed the tiny flame.
I spend the rest of the day in my room, avoiding everyone, and I have my dinner brought to me. Vale comes knocking as I’m getting ready for bed.
“Do you want to skip the concert tomorrow given everything?” she asks as she peeks inside.
Shit. I completely forgot we had plans to go out. A band we both like is playing in Naples, and she got us tickets. We’ve been looking forward to this, and I don’t want to back out just because Rafe showed up. What am I going to do for the next few days? Hide in my room and think about him nonstop? Maybe it’ll be good to get out of the house and have a distraction for a few hours.
“I still want to go.”
Vale’s smile is careful. “If you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
She takes one step inside and closes the door behind her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I just need some time to think about everything. Rafaele is really trying…” I sigh. “He told me he loved me.”
Vale’s expression softens. “About time.”
“I know, fucking finally, huh? But is it too late?”
“I don’t know. Do you still love him?”
Do I? There’s a thick layer of hurt on top of whatever other feelings I have for him, but I can’t deny that he’s managed to get past it. Somewhat. But I’m not sure that his change of heart is enough to fix our relationship. He might say he loves me now, but that doesn’t erase the fact that his consigliere is dead because of what happened.