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Was that the best excuse he could give me?
“My father’s died.”
The words stunned me, and I felt guilty and ashamed all at once. “I’m so sorry, Marcus,” I whispered.
“Is there anything I can do?” I bit my lip. “Would you like me to come with you?”
“Grazie, bambina.” Marcus’ voice became softer. “But I’d rather do this alone. The circumstances around my father’s death aren’t...ideal.”
“Okay.” I told myself I had no right to feel rejected. “Just let me know if you need me.”
“Si.”
There was a pause, almost as if he wanted to say something.
“M-Marcus?”
“Nothing.” He breathed hard. “Ciao, bambina.”
As Marcus ended the call, I couldn’t help thinking this was the first time he had used the words to say goodbye.
The next day, I did my best to follow the news coverage of his father’s death, which turned out to be as controversial as he had hinted. Not only had his father passed away in his mistress’ company, but he had also done so while in the middle of a rather kinky setup, one that involved a long list of sex toys. I couldn’t even figure out what some of them was for despite having researched their English translations.
The day before his father’s funeral, I sent Marcus a text message, asking if he wanted me to fly over. Marcus replied moments later.
No.
I didn’t text back.
I got the picture, more so when I got a hold of Italian newspapers and found out that Marcus had attended the funeral accompanied by a woman believed to be his on-off girlfriend.
Eight
Present time
Over the years, I had secretly fantasized about how I’d bump into Marcus Ravelli.
