Finding Solace

Chapter 2

Marcello sits in his chair with his legs propped on the desk in front of him looking out at the rain pouring with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His mind goes back to the brown-haired girl that left just a couple of hours ago after multiple steaming rounds of sex and an argument that left him seething with anger. His room was a mess after he had broken the lamp and the alcohol bottles on the ground and his hand was bleeding after a shard of glass pierced through it.

Marcello was surprised by his own anger just as much as Bella was. It's not that he never got angry or that he didn't have a temper. But usually he was able to keep it in check and maintain a calm demeanor and let his actions do the talking. He wasn't overly expressive, not verbally at least. He was a man of few words and usually his actions did the job.

But today when she spoke about leaving, about going away and never coming back, something snapped inside him. He hadn't felt such anger since his father accused his mother of cheating on him and killed her with a bullet through her head. That was the last time he had felt so lost and lonely. He was fourteen back then. It had been thirteen years and now he found himself having the same lonely feeling that he'd had back then.

It's not that he had spent his life surrounded by people. No, now that he thought about it, he had always been lonely. But in the past one year, things had changed. Someone had walked into his life and made him feel things he had never felt before. It was all so new and scary, but it was nice. It was nice to make love to someone and then hold them all night. It was nice to talk to them about things and trust them with your weaknesses. It was scary but so liberating. As if you weren't holding the weight of the whole world on your shoulders alone. There was someone to share it with. It felt good.

And then suddenly ,you feel like it's all going to go away and you have to go back to that dark, lonely, cold place that you had spent your entire life in.
It was unfair. And so his anger was justified.

" You are being immature." She had said, so calmly.

Was he? Was he being immature?
No. She was being unfair. He picked up his phone and considered calling her. But then, he put the phone down. She would call him once she realises how much her words had hurt him.

"Sir?" Someone knocked on his bedroom door.

"Yes?"

"Sir, Riccardo is here with some news."

"Not now."

"Sir, he says it's urgent."

"Not now."

The cook, Alex, was familiar with that firm tone in his deep voice. He knew that his boss was angry. He never shouted or yelled at people. He just held such power and authority in his voice, that even the most powerful of men cowered away. Alex turned and left.

Marcello decided to continue with his drinking session and eventually passed out on his chair before his mind went back to a pair of brown eyes that held so much warmth, a tear  escaped his eye.