“Well… can I go ahead and put in my vote to say I hope you do? Seeing the way you talked about him, and knowing you, Tori… I don’t think I could handpick a better person for my brother.”
A few minutes later, I left Des in the kitchen to finish her tea while I went to the guest room, and threw myself across the bed. What the hell had I gotten myself into now? Kissing Avery certainly wasn’t part of the plan to get over him. After two months of not seeing him, not speaking to him, not talking about him, his presence in the room had sent me into a tizzy, and the kiss? My goodness, I was still tingling.
Is this what I should expect every time he was around? Just a few days ago, when I was telling Renee about it, I’d thought I was making progress… However, here I was realizing that I wasn’t getting over Avery at all.
Two weeks passed before I returned home to Dallas, and although I had a good time, and was more than happy to help Des, I was thrilled to see my house again. There was a fancy, unfamiliar car in my driveway, but I didn’t think much of it, assuming it belonged to one of Mel’s friends as I made my way to the front door with my luggage.
“Gatinha bonita, you’re home.”
I froze as that familiar, annoyingly sexy voice called out to me from the flashy car. Now it made sense. “Rafi,” I said, turning to face my ex-husband. “I’m no longer your pretty kitty… please, call me Victoria.”
“Not even Tori?” he asked, his handsome face spreading into a grin.
“If you must.”
I had been wondering when he was going to make an appearance, and of course, he picked an inopportune time. I was exhausted, and all I wanted to do was take a hot shower and climb into my bed before I had to start looking for a place, so I could pack and move out within the time frame I had given the young couple who purchased my house.
There was a short, awkward lull as I waited for him to state his business, but he didn’t seem inclined, so finally, I broke the silence. “Did you need something, Rafael?”
He shook his head, giving me another dazzling smile. “I wanted to see you, minha querida.” I cringed at yet another unwanted term of endearment, but allowed him to continue. “You don’t respond to my emails, you change your personal cell number so I can’t call… and I assume your lawyer hasn’t been passing along my requests for a meeting, a call… something?”
“She knows better,” I replied, smiling. “Although, I’m going to have to talk to her about a restraining order, since you don’t seem to get the message that I don’t have anything to say to you. Why are you talking to my lawyer, Rafi?”
A little of his bravado faded, but he stood tall. “I told you, I wanted to see you. I… I miss you, my love.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “I know you’re not about to ask me about getting back together?”
“No. No, really. I really did just want to see you, and see if you were okay. See for myself. I feel badly about the way things ended for us.”
A snort of laughter had escaped me before I could think about catching it. “You feel ba— you know what? I’m not going to go there. You wanted to see me, Rafi, you’ve seen me. I look great, I feel great, and I am great. Now, goodbye.”
“That’s it? After that big ass check, I can’t get a few minutes of your time?”
“I didn’t tell you to get married without a prenup, belo. After you exposed me to God knows what with your sleeping around, a hefty divorce settlement was the least you could give.”
He lifted his shoulders, then dropped them in defeat. “You can’t tell me what’s going on in your life? You’re not running your business anymore, you’re selling the house,” he said, nodding toward the newly place “sold!” sign in the yard. What’s going on?”