144
MIA
A current of cold air makes me shiver, and I roll to the middle of the bed, seeking Lorenzo's warmth. Disoriented, I open my eyes and see him perched on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Waves of pain radiate from him, and my heart drops through my stomach.
Climbing out from under the covers, I crawl across the bed to him and slide my hands over his shoulders.
"Don't." The way he shrugs me off and his harsh tone hit me like an arrow through my heart.
"What's wrong?" I ask softly, terrified of his answer.
"This," he says with a snarl. "This is all wrong."
"Lorenzo, don't..."
Rocketing off the bed, he spins around to face me. "Do not fucking tell me what to feel, Mia."
I flinch at the hostility in his tone. "I wasn't going to."
He runs his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry. But this-us. It can't work."
"But it does work," I remind him.
"But it can't!" he yells, morphing into a man that I don't recognize, and I flinch. "I can't do this, Mia. I'm sorry." His tone is softer now, his head hung low-in defeat.
Climbing off the bed, I go to him and cup his face in my hands. "You can do this. I know you're feeling things, but just talk to me-"
"It's no good." He steps back and sneers. "You need to get the hell out of here. Get the hell away from me. You were right when you said you deserve more than I can offer."
Fighting tears, I stare into his eyes that are so full of shame and sorrow. "That was before I knew you were capable of-"
He scoffs. "Capable of what? Of loving you?"
Goddamn this stubborn asshole. "Yes!" I shout back.
His mouth twists in a cruel sneer. "You think I could ever love you as much as I loved her, Mia? You will never be her. You will never be good enough. Is that how you want to live your life? Always second best?"
I recoil, no less wounded than if he'd punched me in the face. In fact, a punch to the face wouldn't have hurt so much. Tears stream down my cheeks. I don't think there's any way back from what he just said. Lorenzo knows it too. He turns around and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
LORENZO
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Sitting at the piano, I stare at the keys. My fingers hover over them, poised to play, but it's like they've forgotten how. I slam the lid down and rest my forehead on the cool polished wood.
I need to think. To breathe. To stop the walls from closing in around me. But it's no less than I deserve.
An image of her face torments me. Mia Stone, the woman I tore to pieces because I'm a selfish asshole who can't give her what she needs. I can't give her what she deserves. Mia should have every single thing her heart desires-just as long as that something isn't me.
Except I could grant her everything she wants, couldn't I? The wedding and the kids and the happily ever after-the entire beautiful fucking future I dreamed of last night after I made love to her like she was the other half of my fucking soul. We could have everything together. But why should I get a happily ever when Anya couldn't have hers? What gives me the right to a joyful future with Mia when I promised my wife on her fucking deathbed that I would never love anyone else ever again?Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.
Anya's letter healed me in ways I never expected, but I can't give myself permission to move on. I can't offer another woman the future I was unable to provide for my wife ...
And I can't do it for Mia.
She was so perfect last night. I saw people watching us, and I know that they saw it too-how right we looked together, how fucking incredible she looked on my arm. Like everyone forgot that another woman once occupied that place. They forgot my beautiful Anya. But worse than that-I forgot her too. Not once did I think of my wife last night, and the weight of that guilt is heavy enough to crush me.
What if I stop thinking about her altogether? What happens to her then? What if I forget the feel of her skin against mine? The scent of her hair. The sound of her voice. How she curled up on my chest whenever she was tired. Who will remember all of those things about her if I don't? If I stop thinking about her every day, she might be lost forever.
Balling my hand into a fist, I curse the day I met Mia Stone. Rage is an emotion I know how to deal with. Anger is all I'm good at now. If I'd never met her, I wouldn't have made love to her last night. I wouldn't have broken her heart. I wouldn't have betrayed the only two women I've ever loved.
And I never would have felt my own heart shatter for the second time.
ΜΙΑ
Kat places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "He'll come around, Mia," she says softly. "You looked so happy together the night of the ball."
I know we did. Because we were happy. I have no idea what happened to turn the man I love into the world's biggest jackass. "I don't think so, Kat," I sniff. "He said some awful things." The memory of his words slices a fresh welt across my heart. I haven't told Kat exactly what he said. I couldn't bear the pain of repeating them, and I'm too ashamed of thinking I could have a future with a man who sees me that way.
"Besides, I've waited too long already. He had all day yesterday to come and talk to me." My cheeks flush at how I stupidly sat in his bedroom for hours, hoping he'd rush back in and beg my forgiveness. Tell me it was all some awful mistake, that he didn't mean any of those horrible things he said. "But I haven't seen him at all. It's like I don't even exist anymore. I'm done, Kat." I dry my face with a tissue from the box she hands me.
The agony of Lorenzo's betrayal is so acute that reliving his unforgivable words renders me almost numb. It's as though my brain knows that to allow myself to feel the pain of those words would be too much for me to bear all at once, so it won't let me. Instead, I remember snatched pieces, and I recall the hurt. The soul-crushing hurt of him eviscerating my heart all over again.
For a few hours after it happened, I even convinced myself that he'd come to me and somehow take back those terrible things he said. But of course he didn't. Lorenzo Moretti might just be the most damaged and stubborn man I've ever known. He's either beyond redemption or I pity the woman who eventually decides to stick around long enough to help him work through his pain. Because he's a selfish son of a bitch, and if he was right about one thing, it's that I deserve so much better.
I roll back my shoulders and swallow down a fresh wave of sorrow. "I found a few apartments nearby. Would you come look at a few with me? I have some savings and ..."
Kat pulls me into a hug. "Whatever you need, honey. I'm here for you."