I’m already dreading how he might react when I tell him that I kissed Romeo. He won’t like it, and that terrifies me a little.
He knows too much about my life, and it probably wouldn’t be difficult for him to track Romeo down.
They’re both deadly, and I don’t know what might happen in that scenario.
As I think it through, I find myself comparing their other traits.
They’re both sarcastic with a dry sense of humor. And physically, their builds seem very similar. They both tower over me, and I haven’t seen Eros’s body, but he feels just as muscular as Romeo is.
Neither of them wears cologne, but I could almost swear they both have the same lingering scent of cloves and something woodsy.
There’s also the fact that Beppe has never shied away from Eros. I even remarked on it once. It almost seemed like he knew him. But I also think I could be making connections that don’t really exist.
If Romeo wanted me, why would he push me away?
The truth is, there’s a part of me that will always be tethered to him, but our history is history for a reason.
Too much has happened between us.
I have to believe that even if he meant to kiss me tonight, and it wasn’t to mess with my head, it was just a temporary resurgence of old feelings.
There was a time when we both knew each other better than anyone else, and it’s easy to fall back into those patterns during a vulnerable moment.
I can only imagine he regrets that it ever happened, and by tomorrow, he’ll probably have forgotten it entirely.
I don’t know much about Romeo’s love life because he keeps things private, but I’m certain he must have had women over the years.
He’s far too handsome to avoid attention, and admittedly, I don’t like thinking about how many offers he’s probably had.
It’s not my business, and I shouldn’t even be dwelling on it. I also shouldn’t have this sick feeling in my gut when I do.
He doesn’t belong to me.
And I don’t belong to him anymore.
My phone alerts me to a video call, and when I see who it’s from, I can’t help feeling torn in two directions. But I answer anyway.
“Hi,” Eros greets me.
For a moment, I consider what it would be like if I just said it.Show me who you are.But I’m still too afraid to go there, so I don’t.
“You’ve ghosted me all week, and all I get is a ‘hi’?”
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry, Gabi.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
As soon as I say it, I regret it. I don’t have the right to demand answers from him when I told him this could never be anything serious. Especially not after what I did tonight.
“Never mind.” I blow out a breath. “Just tell me you’re alright.”
“I’m alright.”
“Okay.” I pause for a beat. “Has this situation between us run its course?”
“No.”
The intensity of that single word catches me off guard. Because, again, it doesn’t sound like a passing thing.
