“Always with the rules, Rossi,” I say, trying for levity, but my voice cracks halfway through.
I clear my throat and step further into the empty room, closing the door with a soft click. Calling her Isabella is too personal, miles away from where we are. Professor is too formal for what I intend to say to her.
Rossi, it is.
Her expression hardens when she sees me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. They’re too full of sadness and exhaustion to carry the fire I saw last night.
“What do you want, Mr. Kahale?”
The way she spits out my last name has me hating it again. I take a step closer, fighting the urge to reach for her like I did so many times last night, only for her to swat my hands away.
“I want to explain.”
Her laugh is bitter and short, like it’s been forced out of her.
“Explain what? How your frat friend outed you for using me. That’s the only reason why you pursued me, wasn’t it? Or are you more upset about him divulging your secret?”
“He didn’t.”
I stalk toward her as she backs up and then darts behind the table to keep a physical barrier between us.
“It was all bullshit what he said. Yeah, I talked to him about you because I wanted to be with you like we were this weekend. I threw him out, Iz?—”
“Don’t call me that.”
I stop mid-sentence, swallowing the lump in my throat. Her wall is sky fucking high between us. I don’t know how to break it down.
“Rossi,” I correct myself, waiting for a reaction, and the name seems to be neutral territory. “What he said was disgusting. I don’t blame you for being angry. But you have to know that’s not how I feel. I’ve never seen you like that. Never.”
“And yet you told him about us. About me. About something that was supposed to be private.”
Her shoulders sag a little, but she doesn’t let go of her anger entirely.
“I know.”
I shove my hands in my pants, needing something to do with them.
“I know I messed up. I was stupid and reckless. I was excited about you and said more than I should have. I didn’t think?—”
“No, you didn’t. You didn’t think about what it would mean for me. For my career. What if he tells? He still could. I could lose everything. You didn’t think about the consequences because there are none for you. You get to walk away from this without a scratch, but I’m the one destroyed.”
Her words are a punch to my gut. She’s right. I didn’t think. I didn’t consider the position I’d put her in, how much harder I’d made things for her just by opening my mouth.
“I’m sorry.”
My voice breaks. For the first time, I wonder if I can talk my way out of this. Like I usually do in other situations. None is as bad as this.
“I’m so fucking sorry. You’re right. I didn’t think about how it would affect you, and I hate myself for it. But I swear to you, I never meant to hurt you. I care about you.”
Her lips tremble.
I think I see her resolve weaken. But then she shakes her head, her hand rolling into a fist over her napkin.
“Caring isn’t enough, Diego,” she says with a sadness that stabs my chest. “Trust is everything. And you broke mine.”
“I know. I’m trying to make this right.”
Trust is so fucking important to her.
