Page 57 of Broken Vows

I really need to knock this shit off. I’m insatiable. When I got this place, I figured I’d be here sporadically. But I sleep here every night. I talk to her daily. I make excuses to see her, drop by her office, request meetings, and it’s not enough. The closer I get, the more I need. It’s never fucking enough.

The phone rings. Anna.

Shit. This is the first time Lexie has opened her shades in days and every asshole part of me that I despise wants to send Anna to voicemail. But it’s almost three in the morning in Italy, so this can’t be good.

“Hey,” I say, tapping the phone on speaker and keeping my eye on Lexie who’s still gazing at the street. “You okay?”

“Yeah, but I’m in the ER. Long story short, Nonna developed a new infection.”

I lower the camera. “Oh shit. How’s she doing?”

“Fine. Stubborn. Pissed that she can’t drink wine.” A tired laugh sounds over the phone. “Even though it’s the dead of night, I figured I’d check in on you. I’m sorry, I really thought I’d be back home by now.”

I thought she would’ve been, too. But right now, her absence is exactly what I need to get the Lexie bullshit out of my system for good. Because what’s happening to me is not good. Or smart. And I can’t stop it. “You know, I’m starting to think Nonna never actually took a spill and you two are conspiring with each other to avoid these wedding details.”

“Oops. You caught us,” she says. “What that woman won’t do to help her grandkid.”

“Blink twice if you’re being held hostage.”

“Theo,” she says in that scolding tone that always makes me grin. “We’re not on Facetime, but good try.”

Probably a good thing since I’m in an apartment she’s never seen, in the pitch black except for the one small green nightlight illuminating from the bathroom, and I have a telephoto lens camera hanging round my neck.

“But seriously, how’s the planning going?” she asks.

“Nothing new since we last talked,” I say. “Except I’ll never forgive you for making me learn how to dance the waltz.”

She giggles. “You are going to be sooo cute.”

“Is it too early to ask for a divorce?”

This makes her giggle even more and I don’t know if I should be offended or relieved.

“Anyway, I’m going to send you and Lexie an email. My mother changed her mind on the vineyard that’s supplying the wine for the event.” A moment passes as she exhales. “I really am sorry I’m not more involved in the process.”

“It’s nothing. Take all the time you need,” I say, lifting the camera back to my eyes. Lexie grabs two wine glasses from the shelf and digs out a wine opener from the drawer. Two. “The… ah…” Why does she need two glasses? “The planning’s going fine. At the end of the day, I know you don’t give much of a fuck.”

“Oh, harsh words my friend.”

My hands grip the edge of the camera. This better fucking be that Justin guy. “But am I wrong?”

“Um… I think I hear a code blue or something. Might be Nonna. Better run.”

Maybe it’s a friend. A girlfriend. I don’t see her out with many women, but it’s possible. Shit. What did Anna just say? “You’re so cute when you lie.” Across the street, Lexie fills both glasses and swirls the liquid. I need to get off the phone, now. “Tell Nonna I say hi, and that I’m not buying this bullshit infection story.”

“Love you! You’re the best.” When Anna hangs up, I toss the phone like it’s burning and shift all my focus into finding out what’s going on across the street.

“Who the fuck is that?” I mutter, as she talks to someone out of frame. But the second he steps into my view, I size the fucker up. Blonde hair, trimmed beard, the arrogant stance that he’s with someone who’s way too fucking good for him. My breath locks. I strain to look, wishing to Christ I could lip read. What’s he saying that’s making her laugh? He keeps talking as she smiles and sips and how is he not kneeling at her feet, worshipping?

She hops up on the mantle next to the window with her back to me, sets the wine to the side, and rests back on her palms. Like a fucking leech, he snakes over and kisses her. My Lexie. A burn ravages my gut as his dirty mouth sucks and inhales her lips.

No, no. It’s not supposed to be like this. She can’t be with anyone else, and yes, I’m a fucking dick, I know it, but she can’t. She’s an angel. A gift. No one knows her inside and out like I do.

When he pulls back, he rakes his fingers in her hair and tugs. My jaw tightens as I clench. Those should be my fucking hands. Put the goddamn camera down. I can’t do this. I can’t watch the way he stands in front of her and opens her knees. The way she wraps her legs around his waist. I can’t fucking do this. Is his cock pushing against her, rubbing on her sweet clit, is she squirming and getting wet and moaning? Her head moves and her tongue is in his filthy fucking mouth again. Stop! I should call, text, run over there and bang on the door. Anything to get them to stop.

Put the camera down and walk away.

Watching this is killing me. Acid fills my body. Hot and caustic, coiling in my gut and burning my chest. She’s my fucking Lexie and no one else’s.