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I turn and leave the two of them to stare at one another. I slam the door hoping I’ve made the right decision. Calm and collected. No more jumping to conclusions. No more people getting unnecessarily hurt.
Chapter 21
Sophie
MarcoandIsaynothing for a few beats, speechless because of the last few minutes. I stare at the floor listening as Luca slams the door on the way out, then the sound of his leaving in the car. He roars off into the night.
We stand, both waiting …
I look at Marco …
Then we both scramble for the bedroom and hidden phone.
I beat him to the room and slam the door, locking it just as he barges into it. He pounds on the door and screams for me to let him in. My chest is fluttering. I’m done with this whole Colombino business. I’m getting back to my father now that Marco has shown how two-faced he is. More so that Luca left me with him.
“Let me in, Sophie,” he calls.
“I can’t trust you,” I say to the door as I yank my luggage from the corner and throw the heavy bag onto the bed. It bounces with a soft thump and I rip open the zippers. I begin opening my drawers and throwing clothing in the general direction of my bag. Tears are blinding me and I can’t help but let a sob escape between gasps.
“C’mon, Sophie, open the door.” Marco knocks heavily at the timber. “I just got a little out of hand.”
“Out of hand?” I say. “You wanted to attack me!”
“It’s no different than what Luca is allowed to do,” he replies.
“Luca has never attacked me, for your information,” I say back. “We’ve had disagreements, but he’s never made an advance the same way you have.”
“I just lost my cool for a bit. You gotta trust me,” he pleads.
“I don’t have to trust anything. I’ve had it with all this bullshit. I’m tired of being blamed because you two can’t see how someone is turning us against one another. You can’t stop me or say anything otherwise to make me change my mind.” I grab the pile of clothing in the corner I’ve been meaning to wash and jam it on top of the rest of my stuff. I head for the bathroom and my toiletries.
“Sophie please, don’t make this mistake,” Marco says.
I can hear the emotion in his voice, but I don’t fall for it. “You expect me to stay after that? You expect me to sit here and wait for Luca to return to see if I’m not guilty? I already feel stupid for having been charmed by such an asshole like yourself, I’m not waiting to be stupid again.” I slam my hair straightener into its pouch. “The fact that you both can’t, or refuse, to see what’s happening is your own fault. I am not guilty in any of this.”
Marco laughs. “You need to calm down and think this through. I know you’re not guilty. But you gotta understand, we just lost a year of work.”
“Potentially,” I say to the mirror.
He laughs again and the shock of it brings me out of the bathroom. The lock clicks and Marco turns the door knob, inching it open. I run and boot it closed with my foot.
“Message received,” he says through the door. “But are you really going to leave?”
I stare at the door as if it’s a representation of Marco’s stupidity. “Why hang around?” I say, headed back to the bathroom. “I’m accused of everything under the sun here and bringing down the Colombino family from the inside.” I say the last words in a dopey and stupid voice. “I hope that message was received too.” I swipe a pen of mascara that’s fallen to the ground and stuff it in the toiletries bag. I’m finished here. I stuff it all in my luggage.
“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t believe you’re responsible,” Marco says.
“You’ve already said,” I quip. But the emotion again makes me stop. “Thanks,” I say, beginning to look for this phone.
I go to the corner and begin pulling up the carpet. Surely there’s a hidden compartment or fake board? I head back to the bathroom and search the roof tiles. I hear a clatter of things falling and rush back to the room to find my toiletries bag has sprung open and spilt out all over the floor. I groan and rake my face.
“Sophie, just let me open the door so we can talk,” Marco says.
“No!” I say, again. “Don’t you get the message?”
Marco laughs. ”Sure I get the message, I just think you’re reading it wrong.”
“I’m not sure there are many other ways to read someone trying to hit you,” I say. “And stop laughing.”
