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“It’s okay. I’m sure he’ll get over it. I hope so, at least,” she says, still smiling but there’s still doubt in her voice. I’m his first love. No one ever gets over their first love. She’s afraid I’ll be his only.
It makes me believe I might never get over him. My first relationship wasn’t built on love, it was built on comfort. I wasn’t feeling great, and I needed comfort. I took it from the first person who offered it to me. Someone who did it as a joke. In some way, Elias is my firstlove. I don’t know if I’ll get over him easily.
I don’t know how hard it’ll make it to stay away.
Chapter 78 – Sette
Val
Six more days. Six more days before the event is over. Before I’m back home, and before Lorenzo leaves. I can’t believe the two months has passed so quickly. I can’t believe so much of it was a mess. He’s leaving. We still haven’t talked since New Year’s. I try to, but he’s never there. He’s always away, or trying to get away. Like he’s running from something. From me.
However, today, it’s him that finds me.
“Hey Val. Can we go somewhere, alone. I need to talk to you about something,” he says, and a feeling of hope takes over me. He wants to talk. I have been trying to get a hold of him, and he finally wants to talk.
“Yes. Yes, of course,” I reply, eager to accept. I need to talk to him, before he leaves. I can’t let him leave while we’re still on bad terms.
I go tell the others, then put on a jacket. It’s cold this evening, and I don’t want anything to get in the way of us talking. I followLorenzo out of the hotel, and into an awaiting car. That feeling of unease returns to my stomach as we drive to a lake near the Bronx area of the city. What if he wants to talk about something bad? Like he’s done with me, or he’s sick of me hurting him.
I try shutting down my worries. I’ll just have to wait until we get there. I look at Lorenzo; he looks tense, serious. Which doesn’t calm me at all. Is he okay? He doesn’t look the best. His face looks tired. Does that mean something bad?
The car stops at the lake, and we both get out, Lorenzo still not saying a word. I copy him, keeping the silence between us. We walk for a bit along the lake, the worry growing inside me. Why is he so quiet?
“Lorenzo,” I call to him. He stops and turns his head to me. He’s overwhelmed. His features show it. He wants to say something but he can’t. “Are you mad at me?” I ask.
“No. I couldn’t be mad at you, Vi,” he answers.
“You said you wanted to talk. I’m here. Talk. Whatever it is you want to say, say it,” I tell him.
He turns to me. “Val, I just—” He can’t continue.
“What is it? I don’t care if it’ll hurt me, I just want you to tell me whatever it is,” I beg. His silence worries me, knots tightening in my stomach.
He looks at me, his eyes glassy. “Val, I’m sorry,” he says. Why is he apologizing? I’m the one who should be apologizing, not him.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.
I stop, a lump forming in my throat. My heart feels heavy. “Lorenzo, I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to you.”
“Do what?”
“Hurt you. It was enough that I didn’t love you back, I couldn’t admit to liking him, too.”
“Val, I didn’t need you to love me.” The words sound wrong coming out of his mouth. Distorted, like he’s forced them out.
“But you deserved it. I tried, Lorenzo. So much. But not matter how much time I gave it, I couldn’t love you the way you wanted me to. You deserve so much I can’t give you.”
He doesn’t say anything, but he’s holding something back, I know he is just by his stance and the tense expression on his face. He’s trying to say something, but he can’t. “I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble for you,” he says, regret lacing his tone. “I didn’t care that you loved me or not, I just wanted this trip to be good for me and you, yet it turned out to be the opposite.” I notice tears forming in his eyes. I freeze, a cold shudder sent across my skin. He’s crying. Lorenzo doesn’t cry.
My heart starts beating faster, the unease growing and growing. “Lorenzo, you’re crying,” I mention.
He takes a step forward. “I love you, Val. I never needed anything from you, I just need you to be there. No matter what happens, no matter what you feel, I love you.” He stops, sniffling. “Ti amerò sempre, fiore mio.” His voice breaks.I’ll always love you, my flower.
Fear possesses my body. My chest gets tighter with every sentence he says. “Lorenzo, what’s happening. Why are you saying all this, you’re scaring me,” I tell him, my heart racing.
He doesn’t say anything. He isn’t able to. My heart starts to hurt. What’s happening? Why is he telling me this right now? Why is he crying?
