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I couldn’t decide for her. “Goodbye, baby.”
She opened her eyes and looked at me, the tears forming for a new reason.
“I love you.” I tilted her face up so she could look me in the eye, so our eyes could be connected the way our souls were. I wanted to tell her how I felt about her and listen to her say it back. I wanted to hear those deep words from her beautiful lips.
She didn’t say anything for a long time, procrastinating as long as possible. She knew once she said those words, I would walk out for good and never contact her again. I would turn off her GPS signal and stop tracking her. I would shut the door on our relationship forever and move on with my life. I would go back to my prostitutes and my booze. I would go back to pure emptiness. “I love you too…”
Four
Vanessa
I knew it was really over.
Bones let me go. He wouldn’t contact me ever again.
Now I had a real shot to move on and start over.
But I was still carrying so much pain in my chest I thought it would cripple me. I told him I loved him, and saying those words out loud somehow made me love him even more. It was a relief to get it off my chest, to say the truth in my heart.
Even though he already knew how I felt.
I spent my time staying home, painting, and going to the store when I was out of food. I didn’t feel like visiting anyone because I was too sad to pretend I enjoyed company. One good thing that came out of it was my productivity.
I created a lot of paintings.
Next time I took a trip to visit my parents, I would bring them along. I hoped my family wouldn’t stop by unexpectedly and visit me. I wasn’t in the mood to put on a smile and pretend that everything was okay.
That I wasn’t heartbroken.
I was sitting at my easel when my phone rang. I knew it wasn’t Bones, so I didn’t get my hopes up. I took my time putting my brush down and wiping my hands with a damp cloth before I answered.
It was a number I didn’t recognize. “This is Vanessa.” I looked out my open window to the blue sky beyond, wondering if Bones was looking at that same sky. And if so, was he thinking about me?
“Hey.” The man’s deep voice was immediately recognizable, so suave and confident. “How are you?”
“Matteo?” I asked in surprise.
“Yours truly,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Wanted to see if you were free for dinner tonight.”
He was asking me out…again? Our last date was absolutely horrifying. I was so damn rude. I certainly wouldn’t ask me out again. “Seriously?”
He kept up his playful attitude. “Seriously.”
“I’m sorry…I didn’t expect you to call me. How did you get this number?”
“I asked your mother for it.”
And she just handed it over? She definitely wanted to make it work.
“So, how about dinner? Or do you want me to ask her that too?”
I grinned when he was being a smartass. “You caught me off guard.”
“I can imagine a lot of men ask you to dinner, so I find that hard to believe.”
“They don’t usually ask for a second date when the first one was so bad.”
He chuckled. “Well, I’m not really asking for a second date. I just want to have dinner with you—as friends.”
“Really?”
“Really. I get the distinct impression that you aren’t ready to do the whole dating thing. That’s fine with me. So how about we get to know each other as friends? No pressure, no expectations. You pay your half of the bill, and I pay mine.”
That sounded too good to be true. I wasn’t ready to date, not when I was madly in love with a criminal warlord. I couldn’t imagine myself ever getting over him, and I didn’t want to rush through it. “That sounds nice…”
“So you’ll meet me tonight?”
“Sure.”
“Alright. See you then.”
He didn’t rise to greet me when I walked into the restaurant. All he gave me was a handsome smile. “You look nice.”
“Thanks.” I sat across from him, wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a cardigan. It was warm that afternoon, but not warm enough to leave the house without some kind of sweater. “You do too.”
He was wearing a dark blue blazer and a white V-neck, dressed up in a casual way. His brown eyes were playful as he grabbed the bottle of wine and poured me a glass. “What were you doing today when I called?”
“Painting.”
“Cool. Did you finish that painting I saw last week?”
“I did. I have seven that I’m ready to send to my parents to display at the winery.”
“Seven?” he asked incredulously. “That’s a different painting every day.”
“I’ve had a lot of free time on my hands…” I wasn’t sleeping because I couldn’t stop dreaming about Bones. I wasn’t eating much either. I didn’t like to watch TV because there was always a romantic storyline somewhere that made me miss the man I couldn’t have. “What have you been doing?”
