I stare at him standing there, all handsome and gorgeous. Willing and wanting…and then there’s me, feeling weaker than water.
“I didn’t get to dance with my girl yet,” he says softly.
He wants to dance with me?
I get a lump in my throat and I nod, I turn and open the door and he follows me in. He takes out his phone. “What do you want to dance to?” he asks hopefully as he desperately tries to save the night.
“Something romantic.” I smile, forgetting the worries of the world just for a moment.
“Alright.” He opens Spotify and says the words out loud as he types. “Romantic songs.” He puts his phone down on the table and holds his hand out to me in a grand gesture. “Are you ready to be romanced, my love?”
I giggle and he takes me into his arms.
Silence.
He glances over to his phone. “Play, fucker.”
I giggle again and the music starts.
If I, should stay,
I would only be in your way.
My heart drops.
Oh no…not this song, anything but this song.
We hold each other tight as we dance to “I Will Always Love You,” by Whitney Houston.
So romantic and heartbreaking. Never a truer song has ever been sung.
To the melancholy tune, I kiss, I dance and I love him goodbye.
Giuliano
The plane touches down in Milan, and I close my eyes. The flight has been long, Francesca stared out the window while I stared at her.
In twenty minutes, this very plane leaves again to take her and Anna back to Paris. We said our goodbyes this morning, knowing that it would be the last time we would be alone. The doors are disengaged and our guards exit the plane, everyone begins to fuss around as they retrieve their luggage from the overhead.
She’s leaving.
The walls start to close in as I stare at her.
No.
“Everyone off the plane,” I snap.
Francesca’s eyes meet mine.
“I need five minutes alone with Francesca.”
Everyone looks at each other in confusion.
“Everyone off the fucking plane,” I bark. “Now,” I cry as I lose control, I turn to look at the captain and the stewardess. “You too.”
One by one they all walk out the door and down the stairs, leaving us alone.
“Jules,” she whispers as she takes my hands in hers, sensing my oncoming meltdown. “Sweetheart.”
“No.”
“We don’t have a choice.” She tries to pull her hands from mine and I hold on to them, not letting her go.
Don’t leave me.
“Baby…” she whispers.
“No.”
“You need to do something for me.”
I remain silent.
“I want you to let yourself fall in love with someone.”
I frown. What?
“I need to know that someone is looking after you, keeping you safe and loving you….” Her eyes well with tears. “Because…I can’t.”
My nostrils flare as I stare at her. “I don’t want the second prize, Francesca.”
Her eyes hold mine. “This is goodbye, Jules.”
My vision blurs.
She reaches up and kisses me softly. “Remember me.” She takes me into her arms and I drop my head to her shoulder. We hold each other for an extended time.
No.
She goes to pull out of my arms and I pull her closer. “Don’t.”
“Giuliano.” She tries to break free.
“You can’t leave me,” I whisper angrily as I lose control, struggling to hold her. “I don’t give a fuck who we are.”
She pulls out of my grip, her eyes are welled with tears. “Don’t make this harder than it already is. I’m leaving for Paris.”
“When will I see you again?”
“You won’t. I’m not coming back.” Her haunted eyes hold mine. “It’s the only way we can do this.” She kisses me softly. “We need to move on.”
I step back, her detached words cut like a knife.
“Goodbye, Giuliano.” She turns and walks from the plane.
No.
I grab the back of a seat to hold myself up.
No.
No.
Carlo comes through the door, he tentatively walks up the plane, his eyes hold mine, and I stare at him in a daze. He doesn’t say anything because there is nothing to say.
We stand in silence for what feels like a very long time and he waits…because he knows.
“Let’s go,” he says. “We have to.” He turns and walks off the plane and I stand and stare at the ground.
I can’t do this.
You have to.
Eventually, I get off the plane and walk down the stairs. Without making eye contact with Francesca, and on autopilot, I get into the back of the waiting car, it pulls away and Carlo sits silently beside me. Forever faithful.
We drive into the night…straight into hell.
12
Francesca
A million tears cried into the sea of devastation. An emptiness that knows no bounds.
It’s one thing to lose someone, to be brave enough to walk away, but to know he’s hurting too…cuts that much deeper.
I keep seeing his face on the plane, the way his eyes searched mine, the way he clung to me as if his life depended on it. I keep hearing the fear in his voice.
I want to console him, hold him, protect him from the danger.
But I can’t, because I am the enemy.
The person responsible for that broken heart. I cannot fix this, no matter how badly I want to. Nobody can, and it makes it all that much worse.
I had to be strong enough for the both of us, although I’m not so sure that I can be anymore.
I want to sink into a ditch and never get out. The worst part is that I can’t talk about it with anyone, not even Anna. I know how bad this is and there is no excuse for our behavior.
The scenery flies by the car window as I stare solemnly out of it.
Has he eaten?
Is he consoling himself in someone else’s arms right now?
If loving him is a sin, then maybe I don’t care anymore.
The feelings are still between us, whether we act on them or not seems irrelevant.
Just feeling this way about him is a sin….
His words keep playing over and over in my head. “I don’t give a fuck who we are. We belong together. You know it, you know we do.”
And I do.
With every fiber of my being I know that he is my one grand love in this lifetime.
To walk away from it…. Just….
The lump in my throat hurts and I feel a hot tear roll down under my dark sunglasses, I discreetly swipe it away. It’s been five days since I said goodbye to my Giuliano…five days of unimaginable sadness.
I’ve never experienced a darkness like this before where I imagine my death and the peace it would bring me.
Us.
At least then, the hurt would stop…and he could move on.
I wonder what would be the least painful way to die? Anything would be better….
Antonio’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “Is everything alright, Miss Ferrara?”
“Yes,” I lie, I keep looking out the window, I haven’t made eye contact with him all week.
“You just don’t seem yourself, did something happen in Ibiza?” His eyes flick up to meet mine in the rearview mirror as he waits for my answer.
Everything happened.
“Not at all.” I fake a smile at my ever-loyal guard. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“Because….”
“I’m fine, Antonio,” I say, sterner, cutting him off.
He rolls his lips and gives a curt nod and continues to drive.