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“Val, you should go,” he suggests, and the words send cold shudders through my body. I’m not leaving. I’m not leaving now.
“No. You still have an hour, there’s still time.” I start panicking. There’s time. I’m using all of it, every single minute I’m given. I’m not leaving him until I have to.
He pulls back to look at me, and I can see new tears in his eyes, falling down his cheek. He doesn’t want this, so why is he telling me to leave? “Vi, you’re tired. The longer you stay, the more you’re hurting yourself.”
I shake my head. “No. No, Lorenzo. Not now.”
“An hour won’t change anything,” he says. No, it will. I don’t care if it’s an hour, a minute or a second, I will spend it with him because it will be the last time. I’m not ready to leave yet. “Please,” he pleads.
I take his hand, squeezing it. “Lorenzo, I can rest tomorrow. I won’t see you tomorrow. I—” Something stops me from continuing, the words getting stuck in my throat. I won’t see him after now, not ever again.
I can’t say it.
“Vi, I’ll always be with you, even if you don’t see me. Always,” he promises. But I won’t see him. I won’t be able to talk to him or hug him or hear his laugh or witty comments. I won’t have him. I’ll have lost him. Lost every part of him and lost a part of myself, too.
He stands up, his hand still connected with mine. A rush of pain and emptiness hits me. He’s leaving already. He wants me to go. He can’t take it anymore. I can’t either, but it feels like I might not be able to cope with what comes after even more.
I stand up with him. “You’re going to be fine. I know you will,” he promises me.
I won’t. I won’t be fine.
“Just promise me you’ll let this be the last time we see each other. That the second you turn around, you won’t turn back. That you won’t come to the airport or fly to Portland. Let this be the last time because I don’t think I can let you go another time,” he requests.
No. No, I can’t promise that. I don’t want this to be the last time I see him. I don’t want to ever say goodbye.
I see his eyes pleading. He knows I don’t want this. He doesn’t want this, either. But he has to. I have to.
“I promise.” I force myself to say.
He takes my hand and raises it to his lips, pressing them on one of my rings. The one he gave me. He lets go of my other hand and uses it to take the ring off.
I look at him in confusion. He spins the ring around before turning it at an angle. A small engraving is shown on the inside of the ring.Ti amo, fiore mio.I press my lips together, the tearsgetting heavier. I raise my hand to my mouth, covering it, and let the tears fall.
“Ti amo, fiore mio.”
My eyes rise back to his. “I love you, too,” I sob.
He puts the ring back on, letting our hands fall back down but they remain connected. I start taking steps backward, our arms stretching out with our hands connected. Slow steps. Farther away. Until my hands slip from his, and they part. Forever.
I turn around and walk away. Walk away from my best friend. My savior. My soulmate. Forever. That’s it. This is the end. He’s gone.
I start walking to my car, the tears still streaming down. My face aches. Everything aches. But I still walk, further and further, shutting out the urge to turn back. Don’t. Don’t turn back. I get to my car, open the door and climb inside. I bring my legs close to me, and cry onto my knees. Breaking down.
This can’t be the end. It can’t. Don’t get out. Don’t get out. But my thoughts overpower me, and I swing the door open and run back. Run before it’s too late. This can’t be it. It can’t. The air pushes against me as I race back to the house. I get to the steps, but he isn’t there. He’s already gone inside. I rush up the steps and to the front door.
“Lorenzo! Open, please!” I shout, knocking on the door. He doesn’t answer. No one does. I knock harder. And harder. Please. “Please, Lorenzo. Please. I need to see you again. I need you!” I shout, sobbing. He still doesn’t open it. My knocks turn into bangs as my tears hit the concrete floor.
“Please, Lorenzo. Please,” I cry, leaning against the door. “You have to open it. Please don’t leave me yet.” My legs weaken, and I drop to the floor. I cry. He doesn’t open the door.
“Please,” I beg once more through my tears. But the silence has never been louder. My head is still leaning on the door. He’llopen it. He’ll open the door because he loves me. Because he wouldn’t leave me. He’s coming. He has to.
Please.
Chapter 85 – Mezza
Lorenzo
Banging on wood. The sound echoes through the house, and I cover my ears. Pleading for me to open the door. She wants me to open the door. To see me again. But I can’t.
