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“It’s not! I swear, it was a total accident. We were on our way here and they ran into each other.” She quickly pours herself a glass of sangria and starts sipping. She’s a terrible liar. “Besides, he’s gorgeous. He’s a student at EUB and he wants to be an artist. He’s good too, Rubi and I saw some of his paintings.”
“I have to go,” I say and start gathering my things. I am definitely not in the mood to deal with another ‘accidental’ blind date.
Claudia rolls her eyes and tugs me back down into my seat. “Don’t be rude, Sophia. Rubi wouldn’t set you up with a troll. Come on, stay for one pitcher.”
“So, it is a set up then!” I scowl at Claudia and she doesn’t even blush.
“Yes, okay, you got us. We’re terrible friends for wanting to see you happy.” She tosses her hands in air sarcastically.
“I am happy, Claudia. I’d be a lot happier if you guys would stop setting me up.” I cross my arms over my chest, but I know I can’t stay angry.
“Excuse me, Sophia,” interrupts the waiter. His name is Marco and he knows our little group pretty well. He’s asked me out a couple of times, but I always say no.
“What’s up, Polo?” I say with a smile. He hates his nickname.
“Very funny. Somebody asked me to give you this,” he says and hands me a piece of paper.
“Ooooh, a secret admirer!” Claudia says. Both Marco and I blush, but only Marco has the luxury of walking away from an awkward situation.
“You’re a jerk, you know that?” I say to Claudia, but she just smiles.
I open the note and I only have to read the first sentence to know whom it’s from.
I can’t imagine what you must think of me…
I stand up so quickly, I knock over the pitcher of sangria and it shatters on the floor. My heart is beating in a frantic, but familiar rhythm. Claudia is up on her feet, trying to get me to acknowledge her, but I’m too busy scanning the crowd for him. He’s here somewhere. He’s here! I don’t see him and I want to scream. I can’t lose him again. I can’t! Already, there are tears in my eyes. I look down at the note:
And I don’t expect you’ve forgiven me. Still, selfishly, I have to ask you, are you glad I made you get out of the car? Was I right? Was everything you felt for me on account of my manipulation? If so, please know I am deeply sorry. That I will NEVER bother you again – I swear you’ll never have cause to fear me. But if I was wrong, if you still care for me – meet me? Paseo de Colon, San Sebastia tower, eight o’ clock tonight.
- C
“I have to go, Claudia,” I say.
“Wait! What happened? Talk to me, Sophia,” Claudia shouts after me.
I’m already half way down the block. As I run, I look around me. Is he watching me? Is it really him? Should I call Reed? It could be a trap, but I don’t think so. Only Caleb would know about our last conversation. It’s him. I know it in my fucking bones.
I’m in tears by the time I reach my apartment. I look at the clock. It’s only four o’clock. I have four whole hours to wait. I’ve waited an entire fucking year, but these last four hours are going to be torture.
Epilogue
James swallowed thickly as the stared at the words on the screen.
As I walked, I could feel his eyes on me, the way I could always feel his eyes on me. Tears ran down my face unabashed, but I didn’t move to wipe them away. I had earned those tears, and I would wear them as a symbol of everything I had been through. They represented all the pain I had suffered, the love I felt, and the ocean of loss sweeping through my soul. I had finally learned to obey and never looked back.
The End
Sophia had written a very tragic love story, but it was a love story just the same. She had been very generous to him, painting a far better picture of the man he had been than he would have. She’d been working for weeks, sequestered in her little room upstairs. He wasn’t allowed in there, and though he didn’t like it, he respected Sophia’s wishes. He respected all her wishes these days.
Several hours ago, she’d flown into the kitchen and thrown her arms around him.
“Why are you smiling, Kitten? Did you finally finish?” James asked.
“Yes! I finished,” she said and followed up with a little dance. She’d immediately dragged him upstairs and planted him in front of the laptop so he could start reading. There wasn’t another chair, so she’d gotten down on her knees and rested her head on his knee.
As he read, he stroked her hair. James had been scared to read everything from Sophia’s point of view, but he was glad he’d made it through and discovered just how Sophia remembered everything. She loved him, he was sure of it and while he still didn’t think he deserved it, he was happy about it nonetheless.
He once again gazed on her sleeping form, unable to resist shifting her hair away from her face and behind her ear. Her mouth was slack, and he was sure she had drooled on him, but it didn’t matter. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He couldn’t help but stroke her. He loved the soft noises she made when he did. He didn’t deserve her. He never did.
She’d been with him for over a year now, and secretly he always hoped she would tire of him and decide to leave. She told him she loved him often, and each time, it cut him down to his core. He didn’t deserve her love. He couldn’t bring himself to pretend he did.
When he’d learned she’d been writing their story, he helped her in any way he could. It was his outlet as much as hers. He needed to see it in black and white, the pain he put her through, the monster he had been. He never wanted to forget what he could never allow himself to become again.
Since the night Sophia had met him at the Paseo, the night he had decided to leave everything be
hind and integrate into mainstream society, so much of him had changed. Away from the horrors of his youth, away from blood and vengeance, he was just – James.
At first, he’d had no idea what to do with himself. All around him, real life was happening, and he was a spectator. What did he know about meeting people in cafés? About grocery shopping?
But at night, in the dark, when he found he couldn’t sleep because the world felt suddenly too big – there was Sophia.
Whenever he thought about running away and returning to the life he knew, he thought about the day he’d given her the note. She’d burst into tears and run away from the café. He’d thought she would call the FBI and he’d been prepared to go to prison if they were the ones to meet him at the Paseo.
Instead, she had met him there. She stood, looking like a goddess among commoners. Her hair lay in soft waves down her back, occasionally being picked up by the breeze. She wore a black halter dress that hugged her breasts and bared her back. She also wore incredibly tall heels. They were dangerous, considering the cobbled streets. She’d wanted him to know she was a grown woman and she wasn’t afraid of him anymore.
He approached her from across the square. He was nervous. He wore jeans and a black cashmere sweater. The sleeves were pushed up to his forearms. He wanted her to know he was different. He didn’t want to hurt her anymore.
Her back was to him as he approached, but the breeze suddenly died and she turned when she heard his steps approaching.
There had been no words. He simply stood in front of her with his hands in his pockets. Her breath caught and for a while, she only stared at him. She stepped closer and he almost took a step back, but didn’t. She was suddenly very close and he couldn’t help but inhale her scent and close his eyes. She touched his shirt and pulled him down. His head swam. Then she kissed him, and it was all that needed to be said.
He moved to Barcelona, so she could still attend university. They never talked about the past. When people asked them how they met, she was quick to intercept the question and respond. They had met at the Paseo de Colon.
When they made love he was surprised to discover Sophia’s tastes had evolved. She wanted him to spank her. She wanted him to bind her arms. He felt sick about it at first. Her proclivities were obviously his fault. Still, their games turned him on to the point of physical pain.
He felt villainous, but what was done was done, and now he would do everything he could to give her what she wanted. He owed her much. Besides, it wasn’t always rough. Sometimes it was vanilla – and he liked that too.
Carefully, James lifted Sophia into his arms and carried her to their bedroom. He laid her down on the bed, smiling as she shifted around seeking some way to get comfortable. He undressed and got in bed next to her. Just touching her made him hard. He owed her so much.
Suddenly overwhelmed, he held her impossibly tight. She whimpered and whined until her eyes opened and she stared up at his face. “Oh my god, what’s wrong?” she asked and stroked his distressed face.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too,” she replied. Sophia’s eyes welled up with tears and she tilted her face toward his.
She kissed him so passionately, so sweetly, that James thought if she never kissed him again, this was the kiss he always wanted to remember.
