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I bit my tongue to hold back a torrent of words. Of course I'm unhappy, I shouted in my head. Your mom just made me feel like a piece of gum stuck to your shoe and made it clear that we have no future. You might be okay with that, but I'm not. I thought I was falling in love with you, and now...
"I'm really tired. That white wine was strong, so I'm sleepy."
"The wine was de-alcoholized Moscato mixed with grape juice."
"Oh." I felt like an idiot. "Okay, then." I closed my eyes, not willing to talk to him anymore.
"Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it." Massimo touched my hand.
I turned towards the window. "It's nothing that you can fix."
I cried as quietly as I could all the way home. His hand was still on mine, large and comforting. I didn't shake him off. I tried to savor the last moments that we could have together, the warmth that he brought with him. After tonight, I wouldn't be able to have it again. Why would I put myself through the torment of meeting up with him on Saturday when I already knew what had to happen? This time in the limo was going to be our last, and I was ruining it by crying.
I turned towards him and mashed our mouths together. I could feel the stiffness and surprise in his back before he put his hands on the back of my neck to hold me closer. I could feel the tears still falling down my cheeks, making our kiss salty. I kissed him with the desperation of someone who knew that she would never get to touch his perfect mouth with my own again. Kissing him was bliss and agony, heaven and hell. I knew that I shouldn't, but I couldn't stop. I sniffled but kept going, trying to breathe him in and hold onto this memory forever.
When the car stopped, I broke the kiss. His hands fell back to his sides.
"I'm sorry," I told him. "I don't want to...I just want..."
"Tell me." Massimo jammed his big hands into his pockets. "What is it?"
"I have to break up with you," I whispered, my voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.
"No," Massimo said, his voice as sharp as a rapier. "We're not done."
"We are."
"Is this about the gala? Because I can..."
"It's not about the gala," I said. "It's about your...everything. Your family, your name, your history... I won't ask you to ignore any of that." I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. "I have to go."
"Not yet," Massimo said. I wondered what the driver thought, idling here while Massimo and I talked in the back seat. Massimo's gigantic hand circled my wrist. "Stay until we resolve this."
"There's nothing to resolve." I hated the breathy quiver in my voice. "You get to live the life of a prince and I get to go home."
"It doesn't have to be like that."
"It does." I could almost hear a giant iron door slamming shut.
I looked into his eyes and saw pain there. I hated hurting him, but why should I put it off any longer? If we stayed together for another year or two, eventually we'd end up in the same place. It was easier to break up now, when we'd been together for just a little while. If we did it two years down the road, the memories would shred me. I already felt like I'd pulled my beating heart out of my chest and started slicing myself up with barbed wire.
"What can I say to change your mind?"
I felt more tears fall as I took in a shaky breath. "Nothing." I knew my makeup was ruined by my tears. Right now was the last time he'd ever see me. I was a total mess. "Thank you for everything
we shared. Goodbye." I tried to pull my wrist out of his grip.
"I don't want to let you go." His hand was still there.
"You have to." I used my other hand to take his off of my wrist. I could see that he was confused and upset. I had to go before my rational resolve crumbled under the emotional onslaught of even more tears.
I yanked the door open and stumbled on the curb. I caught myself without any trouble, though, before finding my feet. I blessed past Celestine for having the foresight to wear my sexy boots instead of stilettos. I ran away from the limo, not caring that he probably thought that I was insane.
I could've told him the truth, but it would it have helped anybody? It probably would've ended in tears and shouting. And I found myself wanting to end things with a whimper, not a bang. Prince Massimo was a good guy. One day, his perfect princess would be a lucky lady.
I would not be her. Ever.
My stomach told me that I was about to throw up. I tried to put my hand on it and keep myself from barfing, but as soon as I unlocked my door, I was heading for the bathroom and hurling. Barfing just added to my misery. I sank down to the floor and wished that I could jump into a time machine and never experience this night.
