The last time we tried talking about this, you said you don't make love. You fuck
~Sophie~
Raphael
*Unedited*
She was still in the bathroom 30 minutes later while I laid on the bed feeling miserable and helpless. I knew she was avoiding me even as I waited for her, thinking she might at least come out and give us the opportunity to talk or just give me a chance to grovel which was probably what she wanted.
After dressing up, I went downstairs to the living room, where I could hear noises— whispers really and someone clicking on a table. I saw Stefano leaning back on his chair, a beer in his hand and a cigar on the other.
Stefano was a man who indulged in every vice known to man. He was also cruel and a mean son of a bitch.
A sat next to Romano on a chair that had been pushed back from the round table. The smell of alcohol and cigar lingered in the air, so did sweat and tension. Romano never liked Stefano, not to say he was one of my favorites either, but he was important in our circles.
"He decides to join us finally," Stefano said sarcastically, pointing his cigar at me. I glanced at the door that I figured led to the kitchen and saw Bruno's lean, tall frame towering over a petite woman.
Damn his love for food
Hell, I had no idea what I was going to say to Stefano, which reason I was going to give for wanting to get out of his home in the middle of the night. But it was either insult Stefano's generosity or alienate Sophie further, which meant she would pull further away from me. I choose the former because I seriously did not give a fuck about whether I insulted him or not, but I gave a lot of fuck about how Sophie felt.
"Yes, I did thank you for saving Sophie. We are now even my friend," I muttered.
"That we are," Stefano breathed heavily as he turned his large body off his seat to put the beer bottle he was holding on the table just as Bruno sat at the other round table next to us with a plate full of food and a small bowl with cut off pieces of fruits.
"That said, we need to leave as soon as possible" They all looked at me except Bruno.
"You're leaving my home so soon and in the middle of the night?"
"Sophie has been through a lot; I need to take her home."
Stefano gave me a speculating look, a smirk which meant he thought I was whipped.
I was whipped. Sophie had me on the palm of her tiny hand.
"You have a spunky woman there, Boselli" his tone was mischievous, full of playfulness, yet I detected a little hatred.
Stefano's reaction to my decision to remove my family from his home was what I had expected and dreaded; resentment.
He was also of the idea that I was letting a woman make my decision which, in his opinion, was a weakness.
After a few minutes of talking to Stefano and giving my apologies which he seemed to scoff, we finally left his home with Sophie still as mad as she was before or much more now if that was to be believed.
I felt like a man in his last throes of sanity, like my life and my heart were about to be split into two.
The helicopter was surrounded by at least three of my guys, Devonni being one of them. I stared at him discreetly, wondering if he was the mole in my organization; he didn't look at me directly. Instead, he lowered his eyes to the ground; but that wasn't out of character. He had never met my eyes for more than a second.
Lifting Sophie to the helicopter, I felt her stiffen and cringe as my touch repulsed her, and that is when it hit me; she might never forgive me.
I made a decision that I knew may blow up in my face as well as my whole damn house, but I had to try and persuade her to forgive me.
I sat her next to me, but she squeezed herself to the furthest corner from me, looking anywhere and talking to everyone else but me.
Childish as it was, I got the message.
A few things in my life touched me, few that I cared about, but Sophie ignoring me was the one thing that cut my heart into small pieces.
Didn't she know she was the only one I cared about?
I wished that I could go back and undo what I had done, stop myself even being in the same room with that woman. But in my defense, I didn't think it was such a big deal anyway.
God, I have never been this helpless.
We landed on the same island we had spent our first Christmas together. Everybody got off except Sophie and me.
"I said take me home; this is not my home."
That hurt.
"I know, just come in and pack whatever you need. I promise to take you home."
I jumped out of the helicopter, waiting for her at the bottom. I wanted to lift her, but I remembered the way she had cringed at my touch. I didn't want to feel that again, not from her, never from her.
We walked inside the house, with her proceeding me, in silence—her hands inside the back pockets of her skinny jeans.
I wondered whether she thought I could ever let her go. She probably thought I would, but I couldn't.
She was mine today, she will be mine tomorrow, and as long as I lived, she would remain mine.
She hesitated in front of our bedroom for a few seconds, probably remembering everything we've ever done in the privacy of this room just like I was doing. She finally pushed inside, and I followed, locking the door and then dropping the key in my suit jacket.
"What do you think you're doing?" She exclaimed, coming at me like a bulldog protecting its tuff
"We need to talk, care," I whispered, and she gazed at me in almost sadness. "No, we do not" She was no longer combative or warm like she no longer cared, and that scared the shit out of me. But there was something alien burning inside of me as I looked at her, something I've never felt in my life before; it made me want to run and hide from her, but that would mean a life without her warmth and presence, and I couldn't have that. I felt vulnerable and exposed.
"Yes, we do. I'm sorry that I touched another woman, I'm sorry that I hurt you, but cara, I've never been faithful to any woman in my entire life."
"Yes, I heard. Apparently, you have a whore in every city. The question is, is it every major city or all the cities in the whole damn world?"
If I could blush, I would have. But my ability to blush vanished the same period I lost my innocence.
"I don't have a whore in any city."
"Don't insult me by lying to me. We both know you do."
"Not since I met you."
"How lucky for me."
"Sarcasm doesn't look good on you," I said as I dropped my jacket on the floor. Her eyes fell on it for a minute, and I could see her fingers fidgeting, wishing she could pick it up. She didn't, though. Instead, she moved to pull out her traveling bag.
"It's not important anyway. You made your choice, and I am making mine" She was dismissive, giving me the impression that she didn't care whether I fucked other women or not.
"It obviously matters since you're still mad at me."
"I don't care what you think," She spit. I was at a point where I didn't know what to do; I've never dealt with a woman I wanted before, never yearned to be forgiven by anyone as much as I yearned to be forgiven by Sophie.
"Well, you are not getting out of this room until we talk about it."
"We have, and I said I no longer care."
She must have seen the determination on my face because her expression glared at me, squinting angrily at me before she dropped into the seat placed on my side of the bed.
"Okay, talk"
That was not what I expected, but she at least agreed to a civil conversation. The whole speech which I had prepared disappeared completely from my head. I walked backward and leaned on the door, unwaveringly staring at her.
"You're so beautiful, do you know that?" I whispered, wanting her to forgive, love me again.
"This is obviously a waste of my time" I was suddenly on her side, bending on her feet before she could get up and rob me the chance to present my side of the story, which wasn't such a strong one anyway, but I had to try.
"Please don't go," I pleaded, laying my head on her lap. She smelt so good I wanted to stay in her arms for the rest of my life.
"I'm sorry, care," I murmured.
"Did you sleep with her?" She asked, her voice weak and vulnerable.
"Of course not. I told you that already."
"Yes, but you have a history of lying to me, so forgive me if I don't believe you."
"I've only ever lied to you once."
"Yes, but you'd planned on lying to me again."
"But I did not," I insisted.
"How can I ever believe you again."
"What about if I promise never to lie to you ever again?"
"Do you know how it feels to find out that the man you love is having an affair"
"I was not having an affair! I was feeling alone and rejected and thought I could try to fill the void by fucking another woman."
There was silence.
His eyes clench shut briefly, and when they reopened, I saw pain flowing through them, and somehow I realized I didn't really know how she felt.
"Let me ask you a question. If someone sent you a video of me pinned on a wall with another man's hand beneath my skirt, knowing he was about to give me an orgasm the same way you do, how would that make you feel?"
The muscle in my throat tensed, my hand formed a fist feeling the gripe against my palm; my heart pounded uncontrollably at the image she painted. Suddenly I understood, I finally got it.
"I would hunt him down and kill him," I said, honestly and precisely.
"Why would you? I'm like every other whore in your life."
"You're not my whore or anybody else's for that matter," I shouted back. This conversation was not productive. Nothing I said seemed to waver or soften her towards me, but then again, I would probably be like this if the roles were reversed, except I would get the satisfaction of killing the bastard first.
She folded her hands over her chest as a shade of color rose in her cheeks. I didn't know whether she was embarrassed by the fact that I had pointed out that she wasn't a whore or the entire subject of whorism.
"Cara, I swear she meant nothing to me."
"Then why did you lie to me when I asked you whether you had kissed another woman?" I walked further to the room, looking for something stronger to drink, but then I remembered this was Rio; I had no liquor in the bedroom, so I choose the bottled water that had been placed on the other side of the bed next to Sophie's Ipad.
At this time, I was desperate for a reprieve. I wanted to be able to find the words that would reach her soul. Drinking the water helped a little bit; watching Sophie looking at me as I did felt amazing. It was the look that told me she was still attracted to me.
"I lied because you were finally talking to me after weeks of ignoring me," I said.
"So it's my fault?"
"Of course not."
How would she even think it was her fault.
"Why are we having this conversation? Why do you care when you can just replace me within a blink of an eye?"
"What the hell do you mean?"
"The last time we tried talking about this, you said you don't make love, you fuck"
Her voice trembled, and I was afraid she was about to cry. "How stupid did I look to you? Did you laugh at me because I could only make love to you?... In fact, I don't even know how to fuck you because I loved you."
Oh God, she hated me.
"I have never fucked you."
I had imagined a million possibilities but not that one. Not hatred.
"Cara, I have only made love to you. Ti amo cara." I whispered.
"Don't! Don't say it. Not to manipulate me."
"How is that manipulating you?"
"Raphael, you can't even say it in a language I can understand. You don't love me, and neither are you ready to love. Please take me home."