by Sam Mariano
“He did,” Colin points out. “He knows who’s sendin’ me, lass.”
“I know he does,” I admit. “I just don’t want him to feel like I’ve completely turned on him. I’ve done something really awful here and I don’t want to make it worse than it has to be.”
Colin’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t bother arguing with me.
“I just… I was thinking maybe you could stay on the porch, and we could talk inside.”
“Nope.”
I didn’t figure that would fly, but I tried. “Then you can stay in the living room and I guess we’ll go to the bedroom.”
He looks over at me like I’ve lost my damn fool mind. “No,” he says, looking a little like he might laugh.
“Well, we have to go somewhere.”
“Not a bedroom. What kind of gobshite do you take me for? Mateo’ll have me arse.”
“I don’t want to have sex with him,” I say, flushing. “I just need to talk to him without an audience. This is a horrible intrusion. I didn’t want to bring a bodyguard at all, but I definitely can’t have this conversation in front of one.”
“I don’t get my orders from ye, lass.”
He pulls into the driveway, and now I can’t breathe. None of this is going the way I wanted it to. I mean, I would’ve liked to be a real coward and do this via text message. “It’s over, so sorry, bye!” That would’ve been heartless, but wonderful. This is the most stressful thing I can possibly imagine.
I don’t get out of the car. I can’t. This is all wrong.
“I want Adrian,” I tell him, changing my mind.
“Adrian’s busy tonight,” he tells me.
“Adrian knows Vince. This isn’t going to be okay if I take you. I should’ve never agreed to this, but Mateo threatened to come himself if I didn’t bring you.”
“He still might,” Colin tells me. “I call him right now and tell him ye’re not cooperatin’ and ye want to go off in the bedroom with this lad, he just might come over here himself, the way I see it.”
I glare at the unmovable Irishman. “You’re supposed to be here to protect me, not rat me out.”
“I’m here to protect Mateo’s interests,” he corrects me. “If he asked me to guard his house, I wouldn’t open the door to fecking looters, now would I?”
“I’m a person, not a house.”
Colin shrugs, like there’s little difference. “Ye’re Mateo’s property. His orders were clear.”
It’s sexy in the bedroom, but that is not sexy right now. I don’t appreciate that one bit.
“I can’t do this,” I state.
“Want me to do it for ye?” he offers. “We’ll be in and out quick that way. We can go grab a burger.”
“No,” I say, burying my face in my hands.
“She’s fecking Mateo now, lad. Time to find yourself a new bird.” He looks to me, as if for approval. “How’s that?”
I roll my eyes at him. “You’re such an ass, Colin.”
Actually I’m the ass, because that’s not an incorrect summation of this situation, but it’s also incredibly unhelpful.
“We can go in the spare room,” I finally say. “There’s no bed in the spare room. There’s no furniture at all. It’s just extra space for storage. This is my final offer. If you can’t even give me this much privacy to end my relationship with my first love, then I’m not doing this at all. You can take me back home and tell Mateo he has to pay you for nothing, because you were too big a pain in my ass and I couldn’t even dump my boyfriend. I don’t think he’d be very happy, but hey, it’s your call.”
Colin is not impressed by my blackmailing abilities. But he finally shrugs. “Fine. It’s yer arse. He pulls anything, I shoot him dead.”
My heart plummets, because Vince is very likely to pull something, and it’s too late to go back now. I’m trying so hard to hold onto it, but it feels like control is slipping out of my hands, and fast.
By the time we get to the front door, my hands are trembling so badly that I can’t get the key in the lock. Colin notices this and a look of trepidation crosses his face. “Has he hit ye before?”
I shake my head vehemently. “Never. He’s not abusive. I’m not going to need you, this is just… Mateo being overly cautious,” I assure him.
“Sounds like him,” he agrees, but I’m too nervous for him to put much behind this. I guess hardened murderers probably don’t think too much about breaking measly things like hearts.
I’ve never really dumped anyone before, certainly never anyone I’ve been intimate with. I suddenly feel so ill, I don’t think I’ll be able to go through with this. I desperately want Mateo, but I don’t want to hurt Vince. Maybe I should’ve let Mateo handle this. It would’ve been unconscionable, letting him break Vince’s heart in my stead, but I don’t have the stomach for what I’m about to do.
I don’t want to break Vince’s heart. I don’t want that at all.
This is so much worse than last time. I’d been a fool last time, but I hadn’t hurt Vince on purpose. This… this is taking it to a whole new level. This is fucking unforgivable. I’m not just leaving him, I’m leaving him for the person who did that. The person who fucked everything up to begin with. I’m leaving the guy who tried to save me for the man who sought to destroy me.
Vince is never going to forgive me.
I mean, I knew that. But after this he’ll loathe me, and I’ll deserve it. I can’t believe I did something so horrible to someone.
Suddenly overcome with pain and self-loathing, I try to turn back. I try, but it’s too late. Colin catches me in his arms and shakes his head, turning me around to see Vince standing shirtless in the hall. He was in the bathroom and his hair’s wet, so he must’ve been showering. Now his handsome face is a mask of confusion, looking from me to Colin, then back to me.
“What the hell is he doing here?”
“I can’t do this. I can’t breathe.” I shove at Colin, trying to get him back out of the house. “Please let me out.”
Vince scowls, taking a protective step forward, because it hasn’t hit him yet. It hasn’t occurred to him why Colin is here. It hasn’t hit him yet that I’ve betrayed him worse than I ever have before, and that’s saying something.
I can feel tears welling up in my eyes already. I loathe what I’m about to do to him.
“I need to talk to you alone,” I finally tell Vince, since the asshole Irishman won’t let me flee the house. I hate Colin. He’s so much worse than Adrian. I wish Adrian were here with me right now. Adrian might judge me, but he would be nicer to me than this guy.
“Why is he—?” Vince stops, shock replacing the fierce protectiveness in his face. He looks at me like I’ve just stabbed him in the fucking heart. “Is he here to protect you? From me?”
He’s the one who needs protecting. From all of us. We’re all horrible. I hate all of us right now. Vince is the only one I don’t hate right now, as I prepare to gut him.
Vince’s apprehension grows by the second. “What did you do, Mia?”
I shake my head. “Please, Vince. We need to talk alone.”
Colin advances a step, putting a hand at my back. I glance back at him over my shoulder. “Lead the way.”
Vince is understandably perplexed as I lead Colin down the hall and show him the bedroom, where our bed is, and then the spare room, which is much emptier. He glances at Vince, then gives me a nod and heads back to the living room.
Sighing heavily, I step inside the spare room.
Vince follows me, closing the door behind him.
“Leave it cracked,” Colin barks back.
“Is this guy fucking serious?” Vince demands.
I move past him and crack the door open, peeking out to assure Colin, “We’re fine.”
“What the fuck is this, Mia?” I can see by the look on his face, this awful mix of pain and fear, that he already has a good idea. “You bring a bodyguard to see me?”
“I didn’t want to bring
him,” I say, unable to look at him. “I thought that was excessive, too.” I hesitate, my stomach aching, but there’s no easy way to do this, so I cannon ball into it. “Mateo insisted.”
His face turns to stone. He doesn’t speak. I don’t think he’s able to speak. He didn’t even get a shirt on after his shower, and the pronounced rise and fall of his chest tells me he’s about to lose his temper.
Glancing at the door, I add a little desperately, “Please don’t blow up. Please. I know you have every right to, but Colin is here in case you do, and I have no control over him.”
“What?” Vince finally asks, lowly. “He’ll kill me? You think I give a fuck?”
“Please, Vince. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because of me.”
“Maybe you’d fucking deserve that,” he shoots back, viciously, but he manages to keep his voice down. “What did you do, Mia?”
I can’t tell him. I know I need to be honest, but how do I look him in the eye and tell him what I’ve done? How do I tell him I’ve already moved on from our relationship, I’m already deliriously happy with someone else, and I’m just now telling him? I’m leaving him brokenhearted and alone, and going back to the person who tried to break me.
I can’t, so instead I do the last thing I expect to do.
I hug him. More like throw myself into his arms, clinging to him. This is obviously not what he expects either. He’s slow to wrap his arms around me, but then he does, and I don’t deserve that either. I don’t expect him to hug me back. God knows I don’t deserve it. I don’t want to hurt Vince. He deserves so much better than this. All he’s ever tried to do was love me, and I’ve made it so goddamn hard.
“I’m so sorry for everything I’ve ever done to you, Vince. I’m so sorry.”
He doesn’t immediately speak. He doesn’t do anything. I don’t say anything else either, because now I’m crying into his chest. Slowly he begins caressing my back, holding me tighter. Trying to protect me from this damage I’m inflicting.
“Don’t cry, Mia.”
The softness in his voice only makes me cry harder. I don’t deserve his gentleness. I don’t deserve his affection. I don’t deserve this comfort, and I take it anyway. Not that it’s actually comforting. His willingness to comfort me makes this a million times worse. It means instead of lying in bed tonight thinking about my future with Mateo, I’m going to lie in bed and think about this. How even when he has to know what I’ve done, why I’m here, Vince is holding me and letting me cry into his chest before I push a blade into it.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper again. “I’m the worst person in the whole world and you don’t deserve this.”
“It’s okay,” he tells me, not even knowing what he’s forgiving me for. “It’s okay. Don’t cry.”
I finally pull back, because this is killing me. I was only braced for his fury, his pain. I wasn’t prepared for this and I don’t know what to do with it.
I still can’t say it though. I still can’t tell him what I’ve done. I’m a horrible person and a coward on top of it.
There are always consequences, I told Mateo. Time to face mine.
“I have to leave,” I tell him. It’s a sloppy beginning, inaccurate and unaccountable, and I hate it. I chose this. No one forced me to do this to him. This was my call. “I came here to end things. I came home to leave.”
“Then why are you crying?” he asks, unconvinced.
“Because it hurts,” I tell him, honestly. “Because I did love you.” My voice breaks and my stupid breath hitches, so I pause and take a breath. “Because you don’t deserve this. Because I don’t want to hurt you. Because you know I came here to break your heart, at best, and kill you, at worst, and you fucking hugged me, Vince.” I’m scrubbing at my cheeks now, barely coherent. “Why’d you do that? Why’d you have to do that?”
My emotion is shaking him. I don’t think either of us expected this kind of emotion when this day came—we had to know it would come. This has been building since the first time Mateo touched me, when neither of us even knew. Mateo has been playing the game, and now he’s won. And Vince loses. And that’s so unfair.
“But I have to go, and I’m sorry. There’s really nothing I can say to make this better. Just know that I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to go, Mia,” he disagrees, shaking his head.
“Yes, I do,” I tell him, sniffling and scrubbing at my already agitated face. “It’s too late. It’s already done.”
“Nothing’s already done,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re still here. Maybe… maybe this is what we needed. Things have been shitty between us lately, and maybe now we can finally move past it. Things have to get worse before they get better, right?”
“No. It’s too late,” I insist, flashes of my nights with Mateo flickering across my mind. “It’s too late, Vince.”
“I don’t care, Mia. I don’t…” Shaking his head, clearly aggravated with me, he amends his words. “I care, of course I care, but I don’t want you to leave.”
“I was with him,” I say.
“I fucking figured,” he says, his voice rising. “You don’t have to say it. I fucking get it. It doesn’t matter. It was a mistake.”
Guilt brands my heart, but I shake my head. “No, Vince. It wasn’t a mistake.”
“Yes, it was. You are both in relationships, and not with each other. That’s a textbook example of a fuck-up, Mia.”
“I have to go,” I say, suddenly just wanting to leave. I can’t fight him on this.
“Don’t you dare,” he says, advancing on me, blocking me from the door. “I don’t want this, Mia. You don’t want this, I can tell. You wouldn’t feel this way if you knew you were making the right call. He’s engaged, for fuck’s sake. Think about this, Mia. You’re going to leave me to go be his side dish? You have more self-respect than that.”
I shake my head, unsure how I would explain it, but aware it wouldn’t change anything if I did. “That’s not… that’s not what this is.”
“Yes, it is. Is he marrying you? Did he leave Meg?”
I hesitate too long.
“Exactly. Fuck that. No. You aren’t leaving me. Not for that bullshit. Not for him.”
“You can’t reject my break-up, Vince.”
“Well, I just fucking did.”
I shake my head, a little calmer now, but drained.
“You fucked him. Fine. I kind of thought you were anyway, so… Now it’s out in the open. Now I know. We don’t have to lie anymore. I forgive you.”
“No, you don’t. If you can’t forgive me for what happened before, there’s no way in hell you’d forgive me for what I’ve done this time.”
“I just did. If the alternative is losing you… yes, I can.”
“I’m already lost, Vince,” I tell him quietly.
Vince shakes his head, backing me up against the wall. He traps me with an arm on each side like Mateo did just a few nights ago, and memories flood my brain. Memories of Mateo. Memories of the first time Vince kissed me at our high school, in the dark classroom.
And then he kisses me again, but he doesn’t ask this time. I shove against his chest, but he pulls my hands away, pinning my wrists to the wall. “You’re not leaving me, Mia,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead against mine. “I won’t let you.”
I was prepared for him to fight me on this, but I wasn’t prepared for how torn I’d feel when he did. I’ve been so happy these past few days with Mateo, and Vince and I have been so unhappy for so long now. I know Vince and I can’t be happy together anymore. I know we’ve done too much damage, and we don’t have the right tools to make this relationship a healthy one. I’m not sure what kind of tools that would take at this point—a demolition ball, I think—but we definitely don’t possess them. Breaking up is incredibly difficult, it hurts like hell, but it is the right move for us. The only move for us, now that I know what it can be like with Mateo.
I don’t fight h
is physical hold, but I fight his words. “It isn’t up to you, Vince. I know how unfair this is and I’m so, so sorry, but it’s done. I am leaving.”
“No, you’re not.”
“How are you going to stop me?”
“However I have to,” he replies. “You won’t tell him to kill me, and that’s the only way you’re getting rid of me. You let him kill me, or I kill him. If you leave me for that son of a bitch, it’ll be over my dead body. Ball’s in your court.”
“Vince, please… Please don’t do this. I’m happy. I know that’s unfair, I know I don’t deserve to be happy when I’m hurting you, but please… just let me go.”
His jaw ticks, irritation gracing his features before he clears his expression. “It’s a fucking trick, Mia. Don’t you get it? How is it you’ve known him this long and you still don’t fucking get it? He cannot make you happy. He only cares about himself. He’ll make you miserable. I’m not gonna let that happen. Maybe I’m not making you happy either, but we can work on it. We can do better. I’m not giving you up, Mia. I almost made that mistake once, but I won’t make it now. Mateo will chew you up and spit you out. I will kill that motherfucker before I ever let him have you.”
My gaze darts fearfully to the cracked door as a chill moves down my back. “You can’t make threats like that, Vince. You know what happened—”
“It’s not a threat, Mia.” He’s still close, still in kissing distance, still pinning me to the wall. His brown eyes meet mine, sparkling with volatility. “If you leave me tonight, if you go back to his fucking house, I promise you I will burn it down.”
I swallow, feeling a little afraid of him. Normally if someone said something like that, I would think they were exaggerating. But since I literally met him because he burned down my neighbor’s house, it seems like a far greater possibility in this instance.
Pain twists my stomach and I think I’m going to be sick.
“Vince, please don’t do this. I cause you nothing but pain. Please just let me go.”
