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How would I let her walk away…for good?
10
Carmen
If Ronan told his brother what I said at the coffee shop, it didn’t seem like it.
Bosco’s behavior hadn’t changed. He was the man he was before, but since he was naturally intense and quiet, maybe it was difficult to tell the difference.
I struggled to keep myself together. Tomorrow morning, I would pack up my things and go back to my apartment. I would drive in my little car without twelve men following me. Like this had all been a dream, I would return to my old life and pick up where I left off.
I wouldn’t miss the security and the luxury as much as I would miss the man who provided those things. I had amazing sex on a regular basis, but now that would be a thing of the past. It was difficult to imagine going out with some other guy then taking him back to my place. It was impossible to imagine having sex with someone else—and not think about Bosco.
This heartbreak was already killing me, and I hadn’t even left yet.
I went into the bedroom and opened the closet, seeing my suitcase open and ready to be filled with my clothes and shoes. I shut the doors again, trying to pretend I didn’t see it at all. Once the night passed and morning arrived, this would all be over.
How did time go by so fast?
Bosco’s voice sounded from the kitchen. “Beautiful, dinner is ready.” Like we were a husband and wife at home after work, he called for me to join him.
I took a deep breath and controlled my emotions, not wanting to cry into the bland meal Bosco prepared.
I went into the dining room and saw a meal I didn’t expect. “Wow. Pot roast, potatoes, and…is that actually bread?” I spotted the plate of garlic bread on the table, a fresh loaf sliced up perfectly. My depression was temporarily gone when I looked at the impressive, and edible, meal he made.
He sat down, shirtless in his sweatpants, and smiled. “Yes. It’s real bread.”
“And it looks so good.” I sat down and watched him open a bottle of red wine. He poured two glasses and pushed one toward me. “This should pair well with the meat.”
“You’re right. Look at you…wine connoisseur.”
“I pay someone to figure that stuff out. Personally, I think scotch goes with everything, but that’s not romantic, is it?”
I shrugged. “You like what you like, right? It’s not like you’re smoking a cigar at the table.”
He served both of our plates, and then we began to eat. “Not smoking has changed my palate. I can taste things differently now.” He placed a piece of bread on his plate. “My scotch has a better kick to it too.”
“Good.” I hoped that meant he would continue not to smoke after I left. Even if I never saw him again, I wanted him to have a long and healthy life. “Smoking is disgusting. My father used to smoke cigars on occasion, but my mom set him straight.”
“Women will do that…”
I took a few bites, and my stomach immediately growled with joy. “This is so good.” The chunks of meat were tender, and the carrots and potatoes were cooked to perfection. Wiping my plate with a thick piece of bread just made it better.
Bosco watched me with a slight smile on his face. “They say food is the way to a man’s heart. You prove that wrong.”
“How so?”
“Well, sex is the way to my heart. And food is the way to yours.”
“That’s not really accurate. I’m not that obsessed with food. It’s just you never have anything good around here, so I get excited when you actually make something decent. You know, that actually has flavor, fat, and carbs.”
He gave me an affectionate look. “Men don’t look sexy when they eat fat and carbs. Women can eat whatever they want and still look sexy.”
“I disagree, but that’s a nice thing to say.”
He took another piece of bread.
“It’s a big cheat day, huh?”
“The biggest.” He drank his wine after a few bites then looked at me as he licked his lips.
I would miss the sex and the affection, but I would miss this most of all—this easygoing relationship. We could have conversations just the way Vanessa and I did. He wasn’t just my lover, but my friend. After he dialed down his obsessive behavior and controlling nature, he was wonderful to be around.
As if he knew exactly what I was thinking, he held my gaze and kept eating, a note of sadness to his look. He didn’t address what would happen in the morning, maybe because he wasn’t sure what would transpire. Perhaps he was still confident I wouldn’t leave.
A part of me wanted Ronan to have told him the truth, just so it wouldn’t be so unexpected, and therefore, more painful.
