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It’s like hitting a pile of bricks. I curse, shaking my hand, dancing back and forth. He grunts, not really in pain, but more like surprise.
“Ow, you fucker,” I moan, rubbing my knuckles. “What the hell? Are you made of fucking steel?”
“I work out. Did you seriously just punch me?”
“Yes, and you absolutely deserved it. Oh my god, that really backfired.”
“You resorted to violence. Allegra Rinaldo, you haven’t changed one bit.”
“Shut up.” I glare at him. “This isn’t funny. Stop smiling.”
“I honestly can’t. Remember that time?—”
“Don’t you dare.” The anger comes back, flooding away my embarrassment. “We’re not doing that. No memories.”
His grin falters. “Alright. I won’t bring up the time you pinched me so hard I dropped a glass and it broke all over the kitchen floor.”
“You deserved that. You said I looked like the Wicked Witch after the house fell on her.”
“In my defense, you had just gotten out of bed, and you did.”
“Stop.” I stare at him, not smiling, not in the mood for this. “I’m done with this.”
“Allegra.”
“No, I’m just done with it.” I walk to the door, rubbing my bruised hand. My tension migraine’s blooming down my forehead and I can’t think. All I want is a dark room and a cold washcloth. “I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking with this, offering to divorce me, all that stupidity, but we’re not kids anymore, okay? I’m not a naive freshman anymore. I know who you are now, Gian, and I’m not going to put myself in a position to let you hurt me anymore. What’s in the past is done and over with, okay? I’m going to marry Saul. We’re going to be family, for better or worse. Let what happened go and maybe we can coexist. And if you can’t, just leave me alone. Actually, just leave me alone either way.”
Gian pulls at the hem of his shirt. His face is pulled down into a grimace, and for him, that’s practically screaming in agony. I hate seeing him like that, and I hate hurting him, but he deserves it. He freaking deserves so much worse.
We’re through. This farce is over. I’m ready for a goddamn ice bath.
I walk away. He doesn’t say anything. His offer’s still moving through my brain, but it’s fading into the background hum of my insecurities.
I can’t believe I punched him. I can’t believe how freaking solid he felt.
And I can’t believe I let Gian Rossi make me feel hope for one stupid second.
Because he’s right. I know what’s waiting for me on the other side of my wedding vows, but he’s not the answer. I can’t trust him with something this huge, not after the way he ghosted me all those years ago. We were kids, but we had something, or at least I thought we did. I gave him so much in that one stupid week, and he disappeared.
There was no call or text, no explanation, no conversation. One day, I woke up thinking I’d see him after class, but he never showed up. I was worried as hell, freaking out, losing my mind, and there was nobody I could talk to. I thought he might be dead, at least until I saw his brother’s Instagram story.
They were in Vegas, partying.
It took a few more days, but when Gian didn’t come back to school and instead stayed out west, I figured out what happened. He got his one last hurrah with an East Coast mafia girl before disappearing to his real life and he left me all alone. Heartbroken, confused, and hating myself for being so stupid as to think we had something real.
That’s who Gian Rossi is.
He’s not the kind of guy who would help me without some ulterior motive.
“Allegra! Jesus, there you are.” Sophia standing in the hallway near the bathrooms. “Where were you?”
“Uh, I found a more private toilet.” I rub my forehead. It’s beginning to pound, the ache blooming between my eyes. “But bad news. I have a migraine.”
“Shit, because of the shrimp?”
“Right, yeah, the shrimp. They totally gave me a migraine.”
“Is that a thing?”
