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He walks closer, still not in my personal space but enough to make me feel like we’re having a conversation with more depth.
“I mean, you weren’t dating her, so it’s not like she actually left you.”
I sigh heavily, growling a little as the smoke from my last cigar coats my vocal cords.
“I know, Leonardo, but we were still coexisting like we were together. It sucks that she feels like she doesn’t owe me more of an explanation and doesn’t want to hear me out. Why do I have to acknowledge her feelings if she won’t even let me open my mouth?” I reply as I get up out of my office chair to pour myself a drink.
He joins me by the mini bar, fixing his own drink as I angrily stir mine. “Well, it doesn’t have to be all bad. You don’t owe her anything either, so why don’t we go out and find someone else you can obsess over for a little while before you get over her?”
I hadn’t even thought about going out and meeting someone else, and it honestly makes me a little sick to think about. IlikedIris, and those feelings aren’t going to get cancelled out by having a lukewarm conversation with a bottle girl who just took five thousand dollars from me. I’ve had plenty of nights like that, each time expecting a different result and never finding it.
“I don’t know, man. It feels kind of soon,” I reply with hesitation.
“Come on, she wasn’t even your actual girlfriend. I know you thought she was hot and everything, but there are tons of women packing the clubs tonight who would do anything to be with you. Even if it’s just for tonight while you sort your shit out, it might be helpful.”
I wish he would leave me alone, but he’s also got a point. I’ve been sitting in here for hours, simmering in my anger and betrayal. It’s done nothing for me except make me feel worse, and I haven’t done a single productive thing all day.
“Okay, fine. But Let’s give it an hour or something, I want to pregame here. None of the bars around here have the scotch that I like,” I reply as I take the first sip of my drink.
It burns my throat just like it always does, that same familiar pain accompanied by a rush of warmth to dull the hurt. It’s how I’ve always solved my problems, and I don’t see it changing any time soon.
We drink together for a while, and I can’t help but wonder what Iris is even doing while we talk shit about our exes. I don’t know what her living situation is like, what she does in her free time, or how she handles stress. When I think about it, I really don’t know her well at all.
So how did I form such a close bond with her?
Was it just because I wanted to fuck her?
That can’t be it. I’ve wanted to fuck plenty of women. Even if they wanted me back, I never felt this specific kind of void when they were gone. It feels like a bottomless pit in my chest where the calm of Iris’s presence used to fit.
Was it just the way shewas?The way she acted?
It must be, because I know what I’m in for when we go out to the clubs, and I’m not even the slightest bit excited about it.
I’m about to be surrounded by women who view me as nothing but a dollar sign when they see me walk in. A lot of clubs around here know me well, either from the protection that my mafia family offers them or from my notorious partying days in my twenties and early thirties.
Most of the girls in these clubs aren’t even old enough to remember those days, but they’ve heard stories. Even the stories have been enough to earn me quite the reputation in these circles. It’s an inescapable reputation as well, so I live up to my namesake when I’m out.
But tonight, it all feels so meaningless and trite.
I don’t want to party the night away with women who don’t give a shit about me. I want to play tennis with Iris. I want to talk about her family or tell her about mine. The only person who is going to benefit from a night out with me is Leonardo, who actually stands a chance at getting laid if he’s out with me.
I down the last of my drink, and we decide to venture out.
22
Iris
What a massive, unforgivable mistake I’ve made.
I’ve let down everybody in my life who expected me to end up with someone who cared about me for who I was. I’ve let down myself, most importantly.
What the hell was I thinking? I never could have made things work with Matteo. He’s a narcissistic sociopath with an ego the size of Saturn. If someone had told me ten years ago that I would be trying to win the affections of a rich asshole who puts my life in danger, I would be so insulted that I would punch them in the face.
But here I am, crying over a rich asshole who puts my life in danger.
It’s not that I’m not going to miss him – I definitely will. I’ve never been good at separating my feelings when things get messy in a relationship. I always let everything become so interwoven that the second something breaks, the whole web is ruined and I have to start all over from nothing.
The Uber ride back to my apartment was the most awkward experience of my life, that’s for sure. The driver was an old, retired man in his mid-sixties, much like my boss John, except he didn’t seem completely devoid of empathy or humanity.
