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An almost painful jealousy grips me at the last thought, but I do my best to push it away. This can’t be anything more. It never could. And just like he won’t be able to forget me, I’ll never forget anything about these last weeks.
I’m finishing the shading on the flowers tonight—the flowers that I added to the original design, spreading over the tops of his shoulders. It feels fitting that this is the last thing I do. We’ve come full circle.
“Go upstairs and look at it before I pack up,” I tell Dante, when I finish the last touches. “So I can add anything you want before we’re done.”
He looks at me quizzically. “You’ll see it again.”
I don’t say anything. I can’t. My throat tightens, and I’m suddenly terrified that I’m going to cry.
“Emma.” His voice is too gentle, and I shake my head.
“Just go look at it, please.” My voice is tight, and I can hear the strain in it.
Dante looks as if he wants to say something else, but finally, he nods. He gets up from the stool without a word, heading to the stairs, and it takes everything in me not to follow him. Not to go up to his bedroom and strip every bit of clothing off of us both so I can feel him inside of me one more time. My entire body aches at the thought, and I sink my teeth into my lower lip.
This was always how it was going to end. Now that it’s here, I can’t pretend that I didn’t know.
Or that there’s any other way this goes.
Dante comes back down, his expression carefully blank. “It’s perfect,” he says finally, sitting back down so I can finish bandaging it. “Emma—”
“I need to get home,” I say the words in a rush, before he can say anything to make me want to stay more than I already do.
“I’m sure you do, but I—” He clears his throat. “I need your advice on something. If you’ll take a look at it?”
I frown. It’s not what I expected him to say. “Alright. What is it?”
“Come over here.” He gestures for me to follow him to the couch, and I hesitate, but after a moment, I follow him. Truthfully, I’m curious now.
Dante sits down on the edge of the couch, flipping a laptop sitting on the coffee table open. He nods to the seat next to him, and I sit down slowly, on edge. I half expect it to be a ruse, for him to turn and kiss me while I’m caught off guard. I know myself well enough by now, when it comes to him, to know that I wouldn’t be able to stop.
“Tell me what you think of these.”
It takes me a moment to register what I’m seeing on the screen. He has a jeweler’s website open, a name that I recognize as local. For one insane moment, I think I’m going to be looking at engagement rings, but then I focus, and I see it’s all bracelets.
“You want to know what I think? Dante—I don’t even wear jewelry.” It’s true—I have some family pieces tucked away…nothing valuable, but a couple of sentimental items, but I don’t wear anything regularly. I don’t understand why he’s asking me.
“I need a woman’s opinion.” There’s something vague in his tone, and a sudden, awful suspicion grips me.
“What about this?” He points to a thin gold bangle, dotted with small diamonds. It’s simple, which makes me think the kind of woman he’d buy it for wouldn’t like it.
“It’s beautiful.” The words slip out before I can stop myself, because itis. If I wore jewelry, it would probably be something like that. But I don’t—and Dante has no reason to buy it for me.
After tonight, we’re not going to see each other again.
Which means—
I clench my teeth, trying not to say everything that bubbles up behind them, everything that I want to get off of my chest. I don’t realize I’ve wound my hands tightly together in my lap until Dante turns to look at me, a sudden confusion on his face.
“Emma—what’s wrong? I just wanted your opinion—”
“We’re done here.” I snap the words before I can stop myself, before I can take them back, standing up from the couch so quickly that I almost smack my knee against the coffee table. “There’s no reason for me to still be here. I’m going to go.”
“Emma.” Dante stands up, too, that confusion still on his face. He reaches for me, but I back away before he can touch me, my pulse racing. If he touches me, that will be it. I’ll fall back into his arms, and I’ll believe whatever he says, and it will all be so much harder in the end.
“I get it. I was a novelty.” I turn away, going back to the counter, stuffing the last of my things into my bag and zipping it up. “I hope you enjoyed slumming it with me. I really do. I just didn’t think you’d end things by asking me to help you pick out diamonds for someone else.”
The words fly out of my mouth like arrows, sharp and wounding. Iwanthim to hurt, because I’m hurting so badly, thinking of never seeing him again. It shouldn’t hurt this much. I didn’t want it to.
