Fulfilling Fate - Book 3

Chapter 8 - Promises

I know what this between us is, and it only means heartbreak for me. I don't want pity. I have picked myself up off the floor many times and kept walking. I will do the same now. Following his orders, I glance at him as he towers over me. "I was you. When I was with Paul. I was you." His brows furrow, his hands tighten around my wrists. "Paul's feelings were more intense than mine. And this" realization has me gasping for air, "I am now the one with the more intense feelings, and you don't share them."

Tilting his head, he fights back the urge to snap at me. "I don't share them?" He repeats as a question.

Pulling his lips into a tight line, he waits for me to go on, "You don't love me the way I do you. We don't share that same intensity." My tears cascade down my face as knives stab my chest with each word I speak, "You left me once and didn't look back. You so quickly tried to move on after believing I was dead."

I hate that I can't control my emotions, and I fall apart in his hold, becoming a sobbing mess. This break-up is shattering me. Despite my efforts to control my despair, I fail. I don't want him to stay with me out of pity and obligation. My heart denies what my head believes, and there is an internal war.

"I'm going to be left broken again. I can't do this." Slumping my shoulders, my head lowers.

"Are you finished?" He questions, anger on the rise. A meek nod from me has him lowering his head to meet my eyes. "You will listen to me, understand?"

I don't respond; I'm far too tired. This emotional battle has drained me. Let him rip my heart out one last time and be done with it. I wish he never confessed about Angela and let me live in this fantasy where I started to believe once more; I was his everything.

"Look at me," he grits, grabbing my jaw; he wants nothing less than eye contact. "You are the only fucking woman that has bought emotions out of me that I thought I would never feel. They are fucking suffocating. All I see is you and nothing beyond that." He tries to convince me, leaning in closer, his lips brush mine as he talks, "I made mistakes because I didn't know how to deal with these intense feelings towards you. I didn't know how to cope with the grief of losing you."

With a sharp intake of air, he emphasizes, "What happened with Angela taught me one thing. No other can ever satisfy me or compare and take your place. You will never know the extent of what I feel because I don't know how to explain it. I crave you every fucking moment of every day."

"I..." he halts my speech with a hard kiss of the lips alone. It's needy and passionate. Breaking away, he cups the side of my face, fingers rest under my ears as his thumbs caress my cheeks, "I'm sorry. You are the last person I wanted to hurt. There was this hole in my chest that wouldn't close. Half of me was dead."

His words bring me some comfort, but I'm petrified that he's only saying this to me because it's what I want to hear. "I need the impulsive you, right now. The one that doesn't think ahead and lives in the moment," he pleads.

"You hate the impulsive me," I remind him.

Leaning his head on my forehead with shaky breaths, his voice becomes desperate, "No! I don't. I just want you to come to me. I want you to need me. Be impulsive, Asimina; follow your heart and not the deceitful thoughts that your head is evoking."

"I'm scared. You're the only one who can destroy me," I speak, and he focuses on my trembling lip, "You have no idea how heartbroken I am."

"I do," he nods. My brows pull together in confusion, and he elaborates, "I saw the footage of you and Paul that night," his hold on my face becomes firmer, "I saw him running his hands up your top, you two kissing." Our eyes meet, and I bite down my bottom lip. I had forgotten about that. I lost myself for a couple of minutes in Paul's tenderness. The fact he wasn't Raffaele had me putting an end to it.