“I didn’t have a choice.”
She scoops some fruit onto her plate. “You always have a choice. You can go home.”
“You are my home.”
She halts, her spoon midair. Pain flashes across her expression, like my words physically hurt.
“If you keep saying things like that, I’ll have no choice but to ask Damiano to kick you out,” she whispers, putting the spoon down, her gaze on her plate.
“I can’t. Not until you and I finish our conversation.”
Her lips purse into a thin line. “Rafaele, honestly. What are you hoping to accomplish? There’s no path forward for us.”
“I disagree.”
“Do you think I can just forget that you tossed me away at the first sign of trouble?” she says harshly, trying to mask her hurt with anger, but she doesn’t quite succeed.
I stand up and walk over to sit in the chair beside her. She stiffens when I place my hand on her forearm, but she doesn’t pull away.
“A lot went wrong that day. I couldn’t handle the thought of you being hurt, and I acted in ways I regret.”
She stares at my hand. “That’s not all it was. You reacted very differently when I got hurt when we got attacked at Il Caminetto.”
“Yes, but that was before—”
Forest-green eyes flit to me, a question written in them. “Before what?”
My pulse skitters and I swallow. It feels like every word coming out of my mouth is critically important. I’ve sat in many negotiations where that’s been the case, but this is the first time I’ve been this fucking nervous.
“At Il Caminetto, I was in control. I knew I could protect you. But when I got the call from your father, I had no idea where you were or who you were with. I didn’t know how to find you. I couldn’t trust your father to keep his word, and yet I couldn’t ignore his demands. I couldn’t be in two places at the same time. It was torture to imagine you being hurt while there was nothing I could do. It’s why I called Ferraro. I was desperate.”
A tiny bit of sympathy seeps into her expression. “You were?”
“Yes. And I didn’t know how to handle it. I never learned how to process my emotions. I only learned how to shove them away and pretend they didn’t exist. That’s what I had to do to survive my father. It’s what I had to do to make sure my mother survived him too.”
She frowns, a line appearing between her brows.
“The sheer intensity of my feelings for you overwhelmed me,” I continue. “It was like being hit with a tidal wave and being dragged away by the strongest current you could possibly imagine. I retreated somewhere safe.” I drag my palm down her forearm and take her hand. “I’m not saying this to justify how I treated you, Cleo. There is no excuse. But I think if I want there to be a path forward for us, I have to be more open with you.”
Surprise flickers inside her gaze. I curl my fingers between hers. She lets me, but she doesn’t return the gesture.
“I talked to my sisters about you. About everything.”
“What did you tell them?”
“The truth about why I am the way I am.” I clear my throat. “It was far overdue. You said my mother told you about what happened when I was a kid?”
Cleo nods. “She did.”
“I don’t know what specific details she shared.”
Her face softens. “She said your father beat her and forced you to witness it. If you cried, he’d keep going. He made you learn how to lock your feelings away.”
“Did she tell you about the rape?”
She pales. “What? No.”
It doesn’t surprise me that Mamma didn’t tell her that part. A prickle of resistance appears in the back of my head at sharing our secret with one more person. Even though our relationship is irreparably broken, my mother has always held out hope for me. And I know she would understand my reasons for sharing this information with Cleo.
“My father raped her in front of me. Forced me to watch.”
Cleo’s mouth falls open. She squeezes my hand hard. “Oh my God. Our wedding night…”
“I…” There’s an ache in my throat. “I decided a long time ago that I’d never be like him. I would never hurt the people I’m supposed to protect. Ever.”
Tears well up in Cleo’s eyes. I want nothing more than to pull her against me and kiss those tears off her cheeks, but I restrain myself. I haven’t earned that yet.
“But I did. I hurt you with my actions and my words.”
She curls her lips over her teeth and muffles a sob.
I squeeze her hand tighter. “I know that I’m broken. I know. But I need to tell you what I should have told you a long time ago. The feelings I have for you are bigger than anything I’ve ever experienced. They used to terrify me and make me feel out of control, but not anymore. I’m ready to embrace them. Until I met you, I never realized how much of me died in that dark bedroom. But then you waltzed into my life and showed me what it’s like to truly be alive. And now I can never go back to how I was before.”
She heaves a breath, her eyelashes fluttering.
My heart is beating so hard it threatens to break through my ribcage. “Cleo, when I look at you, I see the entire universe. It took losing you for me to understand that you are everything to me. There might have been a ‘before’ you, but there is no ‘after’. I can’t function without you. I can’t sleep, I can’t think, I can barely fucking breathe. Without you, I exist in a horrible dark place that’s devoid of everything that makes life worth living. Please come back to me. I love you.”
A tear escapes and carves a path down her flawless cheek. I catch it with my thumb and slowly brush it away.
Her breathing turns ragged, and my gaze drops to her parted lips. I need to kiss her the way I need air, but before I even move an inch, she pulls out of my grasp.
She stands up, pushing her chair back with a loud squeak, and turns to leave. “I have to go.”
No.
I rise out of my seat. “Please don’t run away from me.”
She halts and slowly looks at me over her shoulder. “Rafaele, I need some time to think. This is a lot. Give me space. Please.”
What am I supposed to say to that? “Cleo—”
Before I can come up with anything, she shakes her head and slips out the door.
I rake my fingers through my hair.
She said she needs space…but she didn’t ask me to leave again. That’s progress, isn’t it? I might be getting through to her. But if I push too hard, she might pull back again.
I sink back down in my chair and drag my hands over my face. She wants space? Then I have to give it to her. I’ll give her whatever she wants. Because I’m not the one calling the shots anymore.
She’s in control.
CHAPTER 45
CLEO