by Shelly Cruz
The corners of her mouth tug upwards, and she squeezes my hands.
“I also understand why you ghosted me. You sacrificed everything for me, and I’m so grateful because now I have my boys. Had you not left me, Lucio and Leandro wouldn’t have been born. Does my understanding your actions mean I would’ve resented you? I don’t know. My feelings about the whole situation are all over the place, and I can’t reconcile them. My head is all sorts of fucked up, ya know?”
“And therein lies the conundrum. That’s what I’ve been living with every day since Dr. Ahmed told me I needed a hysterectomy—regret despite knowing it was the right decision for you. I know exactly what you’re feeling and how it twists you up inside.” She drops her head, looking down at the table, her fingers tracing the lines of my palms.
At that moment, the waitress comes back with our drinks and places them on the table. Lena lets go of my hands and grabs her glass, squeezing one of the limes and stirring before taking a sip from the straw.
I pull from the beer bottle before saying, “Please look at me.” She lifts her head without question and meets my gaze. I take her hands in mine again, intertwining our fingers.
“You broke me, broke my heart. Before I met you, I never imagined I would love the way I loved you. When I got back from the casino and you were gone, I was a mess. I hated you, myself, shut my family and friends out, and was a complete asshole to everyone. Without you, nothing made sense. You shattered my world in an instant and left a gaping hole in my heart, one I’ve never recovered from. I didn’t know how to cope with losing you. A whole year hoping you’d come back. Benny’s friend does some PI work, but he didn’t have any luck finding you. And back then, we didn’t have these smartphones like we do now, so it wasn’t easy.”
“I didn’t want to be found, which is why I never told Luci or my parents my plans.”
Her words cut me. It’s like she’s driving a dagger into my heart despite me knowing the reason behind it.
“You did a good job.”
“It’s probably no consolation to you, but I was miserable. I pined for you. I thought about you every day. It was always you.” She licks her lips before pursing them.
“You’re right. It’s no consolation.”
“There will never be enough words to express how sorry I am for the pain I caused you. Now that you know the truth, I accept whatever comes.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You don’t have to forgive me. You don’t have to accept anything from me. I have no right to demand anything from you. Whether you choose to forgive me or not is entirely up to you, and I’ll have to live with your decision, even if I don’t like it.”
We sit in silence. Words hover in the air as we stare at one another, my hands still holding hers, with our fingers linked. My heart constricts, and my stomach twists. Our tortured history mixed with my feelings stirs the storm within me. I never stopped loving her. Because of her, I was never able to commit to Camila, despite years of trying. Now I have the opportunity to resolve all of that, to finally settle the chaos Lena left in her wake after leaving.
The waitress breaks our silence when she begins putting food on the table, and we let go of each other’s hands. Talk about bad timing. I was hungry, but with our conversation being so heavy that I’m in my feelings, my hunger has subsided.
“Why’d you come back to Boston?” I ask.
She stares at me, lets her response teeter on her lips before saying, “For you. When I left, I knew it was the right thing to do for you, even if I knew it would destroy us, destroy me. I came back to set the record straight and give you the truth you deserve to hear. I knew that you needed it. I needed it. I wanted to apologize and ask for your forgiveness. Neither of us had closure, which we need to move forward.”
“Now that you’ve done that, how do you want to move on?”
She shakes her head. “No, Massimo. Not this time. I’m done making decisions for others. You decide.”
I contemplate her words, the sincerity in them, and say, “Call me a masochist, but despite you shredding my heart, I could never let go of you.”
Her eyes widen at my confession. “Oh. So, what does that mean?”
“I want us to try again.”
She fidgets with her glasses and adjusts them to sit on the bridge of her nose. “What about your relationship with the boys’ mother?”
“Camila? What about her?”
“Uhh, she’s the mother of your children, and you’re in a relationship with her.”
“She is their mother, and that’ll never change, but we’re not together anymore.”
Lena’s mouth goes slack. “You’re not?”
I shake my head fervently. “Camila and I have been over for a long time, but I made it official and moved out earlier this year. She’s an amazing mother to our boys, and she deserves someone who will love her completely, but that isn’t me.”
Lena’s face is still, her eyes wide.
“I met her a couple of years after you left and believed I was ready to move on. I tried. I thought a new relationship would help get you out of my system, head, and heart. Then she got pregnant, and I took it as a sign that I was supposed to let you go—especially because I desperately wanted kids. By that time, you had been gone for almost four years. I wanted it to work out for us because of Lucio. We were doing well for a while, or so I thought, which is why I agreed to have another child with her. But no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that I should be committed to her, my heart wouldn’t let go of you. It’s like a part of me was missing.”
“Oh.”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“It’s just that I thought you were married.”
I shake my head. “I couldn’t commit. She kept asking me to get married, wanted to make our family official, and I couldn’t do it. I wanted to, for her, but I felt like a phony, a failure. When I thought about marrying her for our kids it felt wrong and deceitful because my heart wasn’t in it.”
“Does she know why you couldn’t commit?”
“At first, I didn’t tell her. But she wanted to know, so eventually, I did, even if I was reluctant to do it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was the best decision for her. I would’ve never been able to give myself over completely, and that would’ve been an unfair mistake. I had already made way too many mistakes and hurt her enough. She’s still upset with me, but she’ll eventually get over it, and she’ll find a good man that loves her completely. In the meantime, we have our boys that we have to raise. We will be the best parents we can be in two households.”
“So, where do we go from here?”
“I don’t know, but you’re back, and suddenly I feel like a darkness has lifted. Even with all the stuff I’ve learned lately. The gaping hole in my heart is already starting to heal. I want to see you, spend time with you again.” I stretch my hand across the table, caressing her beauty mark, and she leans into my touch. “Maybe everything I remember about us is just history that I’m nostalgic about,” I tell her. “But maybe we’ll be able to bury the past and start fresh. We were really fucking good together! I don’t know, I’m thinking out loud here.”
“Wow. I’m not gonna lie, that’s surprising and not what I expected to hear.”
“No? What did you expect?”
“Considering I thought you were married, it wasn’t that you wanted to spend time with me. But if I tell you the idea of spending time with you and trying again doesn’t excite me, I’d be lying.” Her cheeks are pink, and her eyes are teary.
“Look, I can’t make any promises and don’t know how it’ll turn out. We can at least see where things go. What do you say?” I rest my elbows on the table and open both of my hands out, palms facing forward, waiting for her response.
“I’d like that,” she whispers. Her hands meet mine, and our fingers intertwine. I kiss the back of her hand before letting them go.
“
Now let’s eat. I’m starving.”
We stand from our table and put our jackets on. Once I have mine on, I step closer to Lena and ask, “Will you come back to my place with me?”
Her eyes soften before she nods yes.
I park in my spot in the alleyway behind my building, and we get out and walk to the door.
“Why’d you move back to this neighborhood?” she asks.
“Camila and I lived in Brookline, but once I moved out, I decided to come back to the city to be closer to work. It was just easier, and this is close enough to her and the boys. Besides, I liked living in this neighborhood.”
We climb up the stairs to the second floor. I stick the key in and unlock the door, nudging it open with my foot. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m gonna put some music on.” I remove my phone from my pocket and connect it to the audio system, hitting shuffle. It’s chilly inside, so I grab the clicker and turn my fireplace on. I draw the curtains to give us some privacy.
Lena is sitting on the couch, her legs crossed. I bend over and tug on her hair, lifting her face to mine, dragging my thumb over her mouth. “Fuck, how I’ve missed you.” I kiss her, prying her lips open. She complies and runs her tongue along my teeth, causing my dick to strain in my jeans.
I’ve been waiting years for this woman—I want to both rip her clothes off to fuck her and gently undress her to make slow love to her.
Lena pushes her hands into my hair, starts tugging at its ends. I uncross her legs so I can straddle her, kiss her deeper, savor her sweetness. She’s pulling my T-shirt, pushing her hands underneath it. Her fingers burn my skin as they’re exploring. My heart thunders in my chest, and I drag my lips along her soft skin, landing at her ear. I softly sing Scorpions’ “Still Loving You” as the melody plays, and Lena’s grip tightens around my waist. Our breathing is labored, and her eyes are glowing with longing, lust, and love.
I stand up and grab the blanket that’s over the back of the couch, spreading it open on the area rug in front of the fireplace. I toss a few throw pillows onto the blanket and sit. “Come,” I say, patting the floor next to me.
Lena rises from the couch and pads over to me, crouches, and sits to my left, crossing her legs. She pushes the hair behind her ears and adjusts her glasses.
“Are you nervous?” I ask, rubbing her leg.
“Oddly enough, I am.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, really. For years, I dreamed of this day, of how it would be between us if we ever had the chance again, but never thought it would come true. Now, here we are, and my stomach is a bundle of nerves despite our steamy make out sessions.”
“Here, let me help you with that.” I remove the frames from her face, placing them on the windowsill behind me. I run my fingers along her jawline before our mouths collide. Her lips are hot and supple. She returns my kisses softly, passionately.
I ease her back, guiding her to lie on the pillows. I kneel beside her, her long curls sprawled out around her. She looks like a fucking siren lying before me, calling out to me, luring me in.
I want to rip Lena’s blouse open but think better of it and start unbuttoning it instead. I start at the top button and make my way down until her olive skin is exposed. She’s wearing a gray laced bra, and looking at her breasts spill over the bra’s fabric makes my dick twitch.
I cup her breasts in my hands, feeling their fullness. Her nipples perk up under my touch, and she closes her eyes, absorbing the moment, relishing in me worshiping her. I brush my knuckles down her midsection until I reach the button on her slacks and tug, causing Lena to open her eyes and nod—giving me permission to continue exploring.
She lifts her hips, allowing space to shimmy her pants down her legs. I pull her socks off one at a time and run my finger up one foot then the other, remembering it gives her goose bumps when I do.
I kiss her foot and begin working my way up her leg. She’s watching me, love oozing from her emerald gaze. When I reach her panties, I bite at them, tugging them away from her apex. I slide them to the side and lick her folds, causing her to buck her hips and moan. She tastes sweet as my tongue glides over and through her lips. Her response encourages me to suck her sensitive nub and swirl my tongue around it. Lena’s pulling and tugging my hair in rhythm with my tongue, and my cock is begging to be let free from my jeans. I give her mound one last flick before pulling away.
My eyes lift to meet hers so she can watch me lick her honey from my lips. I slide up, begin removing her panties, and that’s when I see it.
She has a thick, dark-colored scar running from below her belly button to her groin area. I glance up at her, and her eyes are moist. No doubt mourning all the loss she’s endured. I begin running my fingers along the length of the mark, softly caressing the bumps that make up the zipper-like scar adorning her beautiful olive skin.
I rest my forehead on the dark area and let the enormity of it all sink in. Lena sacrificed everything for me. She lost so much. My heart is pounding in my chest. Thoughts of what she went through alone cause guilt to stir within me. Although I’m not the cause of this scar, I am the reason why she suffered alone. She did it all for me and for my happiness. I let out a long breath to calm my erratic heartbeat.
When I look up and meet Lena’s eyes, tears are streaming down the sides of her face. She lifts her right hand, resting it on my left arm. I grab her fingers, intertwining them with mine, placing them on her scar. Our fingers drag in unison from top to bottom and back up, tracing the dark lines along her skin.
If I know Lena, she thinks this scar has ruined her. But it hasn’t. This scar has made her more beautiful; it reveals her strength and tells the story of a warrior who made it through battle and still knows how to love fiercely.
CHAPTER 25
No More Secrets
MARIALENA
MASSIMO IS CARESSING THE heinous scar that plagues my body, reminding me every day of what was taken from me, of what will never be. His gentleness is twisting me up inside, churning the emotions of what could’ve been. I place my hand on his arm, and he pulls it down, tangling my fingers with his so that we can explore the jagged line that mutilated my midsection and destroyed my body, ruined me.
In all senses of the phrase, I’m empty inside. I’ve felt so lonely for too long. My emotions bubble to the surface, and I cannot stop the tears from escaping.
He moves our hands and bends over, putting his lips to the zipper-like flesh, scattering kisses over it. “I’m sorry you suffered through it alone,” he whispers softly, almost as if he didn’t mean for me to hear him. My lips quiver at his words, and my eyes sting as the emotion stirs within me. I take a deep breath to ease my thundering heart.
Massimo lifts his eyes to mine; they’re dark, moisture at their rims glowing with love and lust and understanding. Without breaking his gaze away, he stands and unbuckles his belt, removing his jeans. He still knows me so well.
He knows that I’m hurting right now, that despite our conversations and apologies, the loss I feel is profound. He is going to make love to me because his touch has the ability to tear down my barriers, to heal me, and help me understand that I’ll be okay.
Massimo grabs his wallet from his pants and takes out a foil packet, tossing it onto the blanket. I watch as he tugs his shirt up and over his head and removes his tighty-whities, letting his beautiful cock spring free. It’s as thick and beautiful as I remember, its tip glistening with his arousal. The anticipation of feeling him buried inside ignites a firestorm of desire.
He drops to his knees at my side to finish sliding my panties down, then moves, so he’s straddling me. His arm stretches out to grab the condom he tossed onto the blanket, and I rise from my position, swinging my legs back to kneel.
I reach for the foil packet, tugging it from his fingers, and toss it back onto the blanket. Massimo draws his head back, his eyes questioning me. I remove my blouse, letting it drop to the floor, and stand up, setting my feet astride him. He squeezes my c
urvy hips with his hands, the pressure sending a tingle up my spine and between my legs. His lips find my scar, and he presses gentle kisses along its length.
My head tips up, and I exhale, pushing my hands into his unruly mane. This is the moment I’ve dreamed of for years—to have Massimo make love to me again. I cannot let my emotions of the past, and all the loss I endured, continue to torment me as it has. I have to be present and let him love me as only he knows how to.
His fingers push at my entrance, rubbing circles, playing with my folds—readying me for him. His breathing is heavy, his breath burning the skin underneath it, and I mewl from the pleasure.
With my knees bent, I hold on to his shoulders to steady myself until I’m hovering over his cock, and he guides himself to my entrance. I lower myself onto him so he can fill me, his heat setting the fire within me ablaze as he impales me—filling me with love.
Massimo hisses as he’s stretching me. His hands wander to my back and unsnap my bra, tossing it to the side, tightening his arms around my torso, our bodies as close as they can be. His breath is hot at my ear, sucking my earlobe between his teeth—whispering words of love and endearment.
Once he’s fully seated inside of me, I adjust to accommodate him. For the first time, I feel full.
Full of love.
Full of understanding.
Full of Massimo.
His lips find my taut nipples, and I watch him through a veil of loose curls falling over my shoulders. Massimo raises his head and begins devouring my mouth, kissing me with fervor—our tongues twisting, turning, and tangling. His grip tightens at my hips, lifting me up and down—inch by delicious inch. I take everything he has to give—mine.
