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“I don’t know you, Julia, but I know that my wife cares deeply for you. You can’t blame her for this. This was done for her protection, as well as yours. I insisted that she marry me.”
“That’s well and good, but I still can’t deal with this now.”
“Please,” Viviana pleads again, but she’s still not deterred.
“Not now. You are supposed to be family. You are my only family besides my brother, and I wasn’t there with you. Listen, I’ll get over this. But right now, I need to be alone.”
“I understand,” Viviana whispers.
Without another word, she turns back to the door and leaves.
We are both quiet.
From where I’m sitting, I have my head cocked to look at her. Her head is down, facing the floor. She’s staring deeply at it. It’s as though there is something interesting there.
Of course, there isn’t. She is just lost in a train of thought.
Standing, I walk in front of her. Blocking her gaze with my body, I grab her by her hand.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re leaving.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t we have to pay?”
“No,” I tell her.
“Okay . . . Can we just go home?”
“No.”
Two thoughts pop into my head.
The first is, I don’t like seeing her like this. That thought gives me pause. She’s nothing to me other than a means to an end, so why do I care?
The second is, justifying why I care. It doesn’t feel genuine, and that thought bothers me.
I can use this to build trust.
For some reason, that idea feels wrong. But I refuse to let that stop me. Instead, I push forward with the plan.
Use her weakness to my advantage.
“Where are we going? I don’t want to ice-skate.”
Good. Thank fucking God because as much as I want to lure her in, ice-skating is not something I want to do.
If this hadn’t happened, I was already trying to formulate a plan on how to get out of it. This way, she thinks she decided.
Which works better for me.
I lead her outside, and then we start walking uptown.
This time, the walk is longer, and the air is getting colder. She pulls her jacket tighter against her chest.
“Do you want to grab a cab?”
“Nah. I’m good. A bit cold but not too bad.”
I shrug off my own coat and place it over her shoulders. She’s so tiny, it’s swimming on her.
Viviana stops walking.
She turns her body, pivoting until she is facing me. Her eyes are wide. She resembles a little girl trying on her father's clothes. That's how small she is. I don’t think I ever realized the size difference.
“How tall are you?” I ask, and she looks at me like I’m crazy. My question takes her completely off guard.
“Five foot two. Give or take. Why?” The moment she answers, I realize how dumb the question was. I knew the answer. I was just so preoccupied by her that I forgot all about her file.
“Because my coat is huge on you.”
“Well, it’s not my fault you’re like a giant.” She rolls her eyes at me, and I laugh.
“No. I’m definitely not a giant.”
“Then how tall are you?” Her perfect brow arches.
“Me. I’m six foot two inches.”
“That’s still a foot taller than I am. You didn’t have to give me your coat, by the way. I would have been okay.”
“You were cold, and that’s what a gentleman does.” At my words, she sucks in her cheeks as though she is mocking me.
“And you”—she pauses—“consider yourself a gentleman?”
“What else would you consider me?”
“Not that.” Her eyes look up and to the right as if she is trying to figure out the perfect insult to fling at me. “Maybe the word asshole would better fit.” She grins at her words, clearly proud of herself.
“You are so funny.” At that, she giggles. The sound is refreshing after the past twenty minutes of silence. We start to walk again, and I’m happy I was able to lighten the mood. Thus far, it hasn’t been pleasant to see her sulk. I don’t do drama, and having to watch her spar with her friend is exactly why I don’t do girlfriends.
This time is different because her emotions don’t play into my bigger plan. It’s obvious she’s upset. But I don’t know how to deal with that shit.
I have never had to.
This is a relationship, and I don’t do relationships. An ironic fact, seeing as I’m married now.
Now that the air around us is lighter, I pull her closer to me and wrap my arm around her.
“What are you doing?” she asks, confused.
“I figured since you were cold,” I offer as my completely bullshit excuse.
“Oh. Okay.”
“It’s only a few more minutes anyway.”
“Where are we going now? I can’t possibly eat another piece of food. Or drink anything more.”
“Don’t worry. No more food. Well, at least no more food until dinner.”
