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I smile. “I know. I mean more. I have questions.”
“You do? Such as?” I stare down at my plate and push the food around a little. I want to be blunt but I can’t seem to find the words. A gentle finger meets my chin and pulls it up so I am looking into his impossibly blue eyes. “You can tell me anything, ask me anything.”
“I know. I feel like a jealous woman. I don’t like it.”
His smile gets even wider. “However, I like it very much.”
He leans in for a soft kiss then waits for me to find my courage. “So, tell me about all the things I’ve read about. The women you’ve seemed to date before. Most of them were co-stars. Is that right?”
“I wondered if we’d make it to this topic.” Rafael sets his fork down. He turns his body so he can look directly at me. “As you know, only parts of what you read are true. In my case, many of the women you’ve seen photographed with me were women I had romantic involvement with. There were a few that it was a mutually agreed upon public relations play.”
I can barely swallow past the lump that’s shown up in my throat. “I see.”
“Do you? Ava, I’m not ashamed to admit that I have a propensity to fall for my co-stars. Many of the roles I take are based in that romantic element. Sometimes things spill over. It may be once, it may be a few times, or it may not be at all. I think you know me well enough to know that I would not lure someone in without their consent. That’s not how I was raised. That’s not who I am nor do I do things I don’t feel.”
“I know. I’m not judging you.”
“I hope not. There are a couple who still are very special to me. We maintain those friendships, but that’s all they are. Does that answer your question?”
“It does. I don’t want to pry. You know about Vince. He’s the only one you would ever have to question about, unless you want to count high school and freshman year.”
“I think Vince is plenty. I also think I know you well enough to know that no matter what I tell you, you won’t feel settled.”
“Rafael, we both have pasts. I just wanted to ask so I would know. I believe you. I trust you.”
“I like those words very much, Bella. Now to change direction, I have a game I like to play when I’m getting to know someone. What is your favorite color?”
“My favorite color?” I giggle. “I think I may have gotten whiplash from that change. Umm, that’s an easy one. It’s red. I love blood red nail polish. I love a hint of blue in my red lip. I love the red on an apple or a strawberry. Some people find it overstimulating, I find it allows me to be me.”
“Red is the color of a beating or bleeding heart. I understand that. I’m drawn to white. White is simple, pure. Some people see void, I see possibility. It’s a blank canvas to create on. Your mood can be whatever it wants when you begin with a clean slate. White can allow you to establish a new path, focus on that path. There are no limits.”
“Wow. I’ve never thought about it like that. I feel like I’ve just seen a whole new side to you.”
“Bella, the day I stop desiring to know more about you, and have you do the same, I don’t think exists.”
Chapter eleven
Ava
Every time I go to sleep, I feel like I never want to wake up. I know that it’s a silly thing to think or say, but these past few days have been nothing short of an adult fairy tale. I’ve been made love to more times than I can count. I’ve been in conversations that I’ve never had with a man before. I have been fed like a goddess and cared for mind, body, and soul. I don’t want to know if this is a dream.
I’m used to the breeze floating across my body all night long now. The feeling is the same someone could get from white noise. It lulls me into some of the deepest sleep I’ve ever experienced. I think that could also be from the man I’m sleeping with. His touch calms me in a way I never thought possible. The warmth of his body is a blanket for my soul. His voice could soothe the most savage thoughts. Everything about him is exactly right.
The rich smell of jasmine and citrus is there with me when I go to sleep and is still there any time I wake, no matter if the sun or the moon is ruling the sky. The breeze trickles across the bottoms of my feet then flutters across the sheet, up my back and into my hair. A few strands tickle my face enough to wake me. Before I open my eyes, I reach my hand across to feel for Rafael’s body. Usually there is always some part of me connected to him. That’s not the case right now.
My fingers search for his warmth. All they find is an empty left side where he should be. I lift my left shoulder as I turn, pulling the sheet over my front. My eyes scan the room, filled with moonlight, when I hear the voice I was searching for coming in waves like the ocean from the balcony, along with the strum of a guitar. I don’t know how I didn’t know he could sing. I’m now stuck in this place of wanting desperately to be near him to see his face, but being here, him not knowing I’m awake and giving me a concert he’ll never know about.
We sat last night and watched one of my favorite movies that I’ve seen a thousand times. He held me when I cried in all the same parts I always do, even though I know they’re coming. The movie is full of love after loss. It’s about finding that part of yourself you lost or didn’t know even existed. That’s sometimes how I feel. It hit me differently. He kept consoling me in multiple languages and, in turn, I think he started to know me even better. It must have, to wake him at whatever hour o’clock it is to find him mostly naked, playing a song from the movie on the balcony.
The constant is his fingers. He’s one of those people who simply is gifted with an ear that picks up the music in one or two listens and then is able to translate it with an amazing ease. His back sways slowly left to right as his fingers hit nearly every chord. On the second verse, he half hums and half sings in English. The chorus the first time through, he translates into Italian. My heart nearly explodes.
With a final strum, he lets the music be swallowed up by the waves on the shore. Carefully, I slide my feet to the floor and wrap the sheet fully around my body. With the cotton clinging to my chest, I get two more steps on the tile before he tries another song. It’s one I know and know well. There have been several covers of it over time. The most recent was a remake for a very well-known romance novel turned movie. The lead actor, who also has the gentle voice of an angel, sang it for the soundtrack. It may have only been a portion of it, but the impact it gave the movie and the smiles it gave those who hear it are still relevant.
Rafael’s voice is deeper than his. The key seems to be slightly lower. What hits me like a bolt of lightning is how Rafael is singing, it feels like a love letter to me. He’s telling me he’s amazed I love him and how I love him. How I pulled him out of where he was and into another space and time. He’s amazed at how much he really needs me.
Needs me?
I cross the threshold from inside to outside. His head turns enough to let me know he hears I’m near. It doesn’t stop him from playing. In fact, he leans into the meaning even more. The lyrics say that he’s a lonely man in the middle of a situation he doesn’t understand. It’s at that point I’ve rounded his body and am standing in front of him.
