Page 108 of Valentino

The waitress walks over. “Can I get you anything? Dessert perhaps?”

“What would you suggest?” Valentino asks her casually as if it’s a typical end of meal conversation. Like he hasn’t just dropped a bomb of epic proportions that’s about to blow up all of my hopes and dreams.

They look over the menu options and fall into conversation, while I sit quietly and pretend to listen.

I would make sure to never see you again.

I can’t imagine living in a world without Valentino, nor would I ever want to.

For all of my adult life we have been friends, more than just friends, and when he puts it like that…it is a lot to risk.

If he’s everything that he says he is then we don’t have a chance of making it anyway.

“What would you like, Anna?” he asks, pulling me back to the present moment.

“I’ll have the same,” I reply on autopilot, I didn’t even hear what he was ordering. “Thank you.” I force a smile to the waitress.

“Of course.” She scribbles on her notepad before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Silence….

His gaze returns to his fingers as they twist my ring. I have to wonder, is he purposely doing that to touch me or is it insignificant and just an idle act of boredom?

I’d pull my hand away if I didn’t want him to touch me, but we all know that I won’t. No, I’ll just sit here and let him twist my ring while he twists my heart, telling me ugly things in the prettiest of ways.

I stare into his big, beautiful eyes, half scared, fully enchanted, while ignoring every warning sign. The flag is so red that it’s on fire. White hot.

A stronger woman would get up and leave the restaurant and never look back. Because men deny their flaws, they hide their darkness, they battle the demons for the woman they love.

But not this one, he wears them like a badge of honor. His admissions are just a dare wrapped in words.

Leave me now while you still can.

I stare across the restaurant, my heart in my throat.

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I murmur.

Not a lie because my mind is blank, introspective thought process evades me.

On one hand I know I need to listen to his warnings and go, move on. But on the other hand I know that if I do, I will leave without a piece of my anatomy, and nothing will ever be the same.

My heart will stay with him.

After all, he’s had it in his possession all along. I’ve never truly owned it.

He keeps twisting my ring as he watches his fingers, and I keep letting him.

I’m not ready to let him go yet. The question I need to work out is, will I ever be?

The road in front of us is dark, lit only by the headlights.

I stare through the windscreen, searching for the right thing to say. Something that could erase his confession from my memory.

I am everything you think that I am…only much worse.

We ate dessert in silence, walked to the car with dread, and the further away we get from the conversation we had, the more likelihood there is of never finishing it.