It didn’t take much prodding to get to the heart of the matter at the apartment. Knowing how long she’d be at the fitting, I left with ample time to meet her.
I caught her as she came out of the building. She smelled of cool, frilly stuff. Her hair fell past her breasts in auburn waves, and her skin still held a golden tint from summer, making her green eyes stand out even more. She glowed from the inside out.
Taking the gaudy piece he had given her out of my pocket, I held it up. “You kept his ring.”
“He wouldn’t take it.” She shrugged. “What was I supposed to do with it?”
We glared at each other for a moment, while people streamed past in a constant flow. A mixture of French and English flew by in constant motion. A man decked out in rags, his hands shaking, went to pass. I stopped him and handed him the ring.
“Tell him to do what he wishes with it,” I told Scarlett. She translated in French, and he nodded, tightening his dirty hand around the diamond ring.
She watched him go and then turned back, eyes meeting mine. Shaking her head, she went to side-step me, but I blocked her with my body. Without giving her a chance to react, I took her left hand in mine, slipping the ballerina ring back on her finger. I had my pride, but pride was damned in that moment.
“Never take it off again.”
“Why would I continue to wear it, Brando? As a reminder? I’msickof reminders.”
I had to fight the urge to lift her off her feet and carry her to the nearest alley, showing her why instead of telling her. Reading the look on my face, she shook her head again, lifting a hand, a clear warning: don’t come closer.
The only person on this earth to ever cause me to lose my mind, if she told me no, she wouldn’t be able to stop me once I got started. To save us both, I stood where I was.
“Our plans are still on,” she said. “After you went to see Luca and you stopped…well, I made a vow to myself. I wouldn’t cancel a damn thing. I’d still show up and wait. I would have walked into that church even if no word came from you otherwise. If you never came for me, then I’d know the truth. I’d know how you truly felt about me and that it had all been just one effing lie.”
Her silence stretched to the point that I felt stretched beyond my own means. She didn’t say the words—call it intuition—but the word “coward” seemed to be translated from her silent language.Only a coward would leave the love of his life to suffer.
“You know me better.”
“I do.” She twisted the ballerina ring around her finger. “Or I wouldn’t be standing here. I would have never seen or spoken to you ever again, if I didn’t know better.”
“You’d marry the rat.”
She laughed to herself, a bitter sound, glancing down at her hand. “No. But who knows? Him.” Her eyes fell on a random man walking down the street. “Or perhaps him.” She pointed to another man in passing, his stride intent on some unknown destination. I stood in front of her finger and she released a heavy breath. “I don’t mean truly marryhim, Brando.”
She waved her hands around in frustration.
“What I’m trying to say is this. Although I love you to the point that my soul deserts me to be with you…” She shook her head, not able to go on. But then she did. “It takes two to love and the bond can’t be held up by just one. Not the kind of love we have. I hate being lonely. I refuse to be anymore. I’ve been alone long enough. All of my life, up until you.”
“You made a vow to cut me from heart to balls if anyone threatened to take me away from you. Including me.” I hated how fragile my voice had become, how fucking desperate and pathetic.
“I wanted you to know—that you do belong to me. I had to hear the words spoken from my own mouth. I had to claim you, for my own reasons. Just like you claimed me for your own years ago, when you entered me so deeply that I didn’t know whoIwas anymore. You filled me so completely that I couldn't hide the most sacred part of myself from you. I didn't want to either. As much as you took, I gave. No man can stand against you now.”
No, no man could. She knew what real love was. She'd never be satisfied unless it was me; I would never be satisfied unless it was her.
“As for the wedding,” she sighed, reading my mind, “we’ll see.”
She left me in the depths of her dark secrecy, at her complete mercy, once again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brando
A toast to my wife on our wedding day:
The word “love” feels like a lie—it doesn’t come close to describing what I feel for you. But what do you say when love just isn’t enough?
Always, always, always.
December 11, 2003.
