Declan nods to the shop owner as he pulls out his wallet. When the woman starts to wrap up the necklace, he waves a hand to her. So she passes it over instead.
“Grazie,” he says with a courteous smile.
Then he drapes it over my neck and fastens it at the nape. It’s perfect. Masculine with a shimmer of silver that complements the blue in my eyes.
Pleased, I look at myself with it in the mirror. Just then, he steps up behind me, and I get a look at him and me together.
Suddenly, from out of nowhere, I get that familiar foreboding feeling in my gut. What are we doing? We look and act like a couple, but we’re not.
Why do I just put up with this? Why don’t I demand more? I should tell him what I want.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, noticing my change in mood.
“Nothing,” I mumble in reply as I turn and leave the store.
He follows behind, keeping a hand on my back the entire time.
“Colin,” he says after we walk for a while. He uses my name, which means I must be showing my cards. He can tell I’m upset.
And I’m tired of feeling like this. When we reach the plaza at the center of the city, I stop and turn to face him.
“What are we doing, Declan?”
He looks surprised by my abrupt questioning. “What do you mean?”
“I meanus, Declan,” I argue, keeping my voice down to avoid attention.
“We’re doing what we do every single year, Colin,” he replies. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” I reply. “I don’t understand what you want from me. I don’t understand how you can treat me like your lover one moment and your friend the next. How much longer can we really do this?”
He steps toward me. “Are you telling me you want to stop? This whole thing was your idea.”
“No, I don’t want to stop,” I say, growing louder and more worked up.
“Then what?”
“I wantmore, Declan,” I reply, exasperated. “I don’t want to be with you once a year. I want to be with you every bloody day of the year. I want to be yours,really. Not just during sex or when it suits you.”
My hands are starting to shake, and I’m worked up. His expression turns concerned as he reaches for me.
And suddenly, a panic starts to set in. Why did I bring this up? Why did I start this? What if I’ve ruined everything?
“Okay, baby, just breathe for a moment. We can talk about this more when we get home, okay?”
“Yes, let’s go,” I shout.
I’m feeling too frantic as I turn away from him and start to march toward where we parked our car. He’s quick on my tail, but I need space. I need to think.
I’m too distracted, and I just keep taking deep breaths to try and calm myself down. Where on earth did this attack come from? What is wrong with me? Why am I like this?
The questions swirl wildly in my head as I scurry to the car, emotion building like a storm inside me. I see the car down the road, and I walk between two parked trucks to cross the street toward it.
Then everything happens so fast. I feel the abrupt, painful slam of the motorbike as it collides with my body. I hear Declan’s terror-filled scream as he calls my name. I surrender to the violent crash of the hot Italian cobblestones as they rise to meet my skull.
And then, it’s dark.
* * *
