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Scarlett
I’m at the bottom of my bottle of Chianti when Sofia walks into the kitchen. It is nearly midnight and after the mass confusion and bullshit of today, one would think that I would be exhausted enough to sleep for an eternity, but here I am, drinking away my sorrows in a silk slip against the kitchen counter.
My friend eyes me up and down, confusion filling her beautiful eyes as I shrug and down the rest of my wine. I’m so worn down that I don’t even feel drunk and how fucked is that?
“Long day?” she asks as she bends at the bar before retrieving a new bottle.
“The longest one yet.” I sigh as she grabs two glasses and places them before us, opening a fresh bottle and pouring it’s content into the two glasses.
“Wanna talk about it?” she asks as she sits across from me and right then I have to use every bit of strength that I have left to lie to her, because I really do want to fucking talk about it, but I can’t.
Now, I am a liar too. Just like Nico. Just like my dead, cheating husband that got me into this mess.
“Just an exhausting couple of weeks.” I say, sipping the fresh glass of wine as she offers me a sympathetic gaze.
“I can imagine, Scar. I am so sorry you have to go through all of this, but you’re handling it like a champ.” she says and more than anything I want to run into her arms and sob out the truth that has been weighing down on me like a thick cloak.
“I feel weak.” I offer instead, shoving down the tears that threaten to fall.
She reaches across the counter to rest her hand on mine, the touch warm and comforting, unlike Nico’s brutal touch that I received earlier today, that I internally begged for while I was grinding against his thigh like a cat in heat.
“You are not weak, Scarlett. You are the strongest person I know and considering the pain and loss that you’re working through, you’re handling it better than most.” she says gently and I want to laugh harshly, but I resist.
I’m not handling it better than most. I was ready to sleep with my dead husband's best friend during his celebration of life, even though he was still lying to me about the bastard child that my dead husband fathered during our marriage. I used that as my reason to give into the overwhelming temptation that is Nico Acosta. The desire felt justified, felt right. I wanted to hurt Luis like he had hurt me, but of course, the only person that will ever be hurt during this shit storm is myself. And I’ll be even more hurt if I give my body to Nico. Then, I really will be weak. I’ll die before I give myself to another lying bastard. I will not go through betrayal like this ever again.
“Can I ask you something?” I say, resting my chin on my hand as I stare at Sofia while she takes a generous sip of her wine and nods.
“Anything.” she says.
I can feel the blush heating my face before the question even leaves my lips, but I blame it on the wine. This is Sofia, for godsake, my childhood best friend. I don’t have to give her the nitty gritty details, but I can pick her brain on a topic that has been gnawing at me like a rabid wolf.
“What’s it like fucking someone that you don’t love?” I ask and she nearly spits out her wine that she tries to drink, a devious smile stretching her full lips.
“Scarlett Romero, I cannot believe that just came out of your mouth! I never thought I would see the day!” she gasps dramatically and I roll my eyes at her.
She’s shocked because I never really have talked about sex with her, nonetheless sex that doesn’t concern my late husband.
My sex life with Luis was bland at best, which isn’t a lot to say considering the fact that I was a virgin before I met him. I never really brought it up because I never really knew what to ask, what to discuss. What was wrong or right or what needed fixing. It felt like a duty, fucking him. It felt like I was doing what a wife should do and there was no need to talk about it because it was just the way of life. But after feeling the powerful lust that I felt for Nico today, I know all of that is wrong. And now, even though I am going through turmoil, I can’t help but feel curious after having his lips devour mine, after feeling his powerful hand wrapped around my throat.
“Are we talking like one night stands or fuck buddies or what?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
I shrug, because I truly don’t know and I really don’t want to say his name.
“We’re not talking about any of those things, are we, Scar? We’re talking about Nico.” she says, curiosity long gone and now replaced with complete mischief.
I sigh, unable to lie to her now. I can cover up Luis’ bullshit because it’s for her own safety, but this…this is different. This is something I need to talk to my best friend about.
“I fucking knew it!” she squeals, clapping her hands together, wine spilling from the glass her elbow bumps into.
“Keep your voice down!” I hiss, my hand snapping out to quiet her own as she giggles and shakes her head at me.
“Relax, princess. The entire house is asleep. Nico isn’t even here.” she says, rolling her eyes before she leans forward on her elbows as she stares me down.
“Spill. Now.” She commands and lord help me, I do.
I tell her about the kiss, about the way my body felt. I leave out details of Lorenzo or how it even started and replace those words with others. I tell her all of the grief and the loneliness that I feel had been building along with my attraction to him. I tell her how my body responded, how my skin grew tight and my womb clenched the minute my mouth touched his. I tell her about how strong he was, how he commanded me and took complete control. I tell her that for once in my entire life, I felt like a woman. I felt wanted. And god help her, but she takes it all in with focused attention and wide eyes, her own skin flushing as I spill all of the details she asked for.
“Wow.” She huffs out after a while, silence filling the kitchen. “That sounds really intense.”
