“It will be. Just give us time,” he pleaded.
Words… it could be jumbled and misspelled, just like his promises in the video and from last night.
“We can’t keep lying to ourselves, Toby. We tried—”
“Four days isn’t considered trying, Lucy,” he argued with frustration.
“What then? A year? Maybe three? Ten?” I pulled my hands from his, needing to hold myself. “What difference will it make?”
“We could still have it, Luce. It’s not too late… We can still marry and have a kid. All of that we can do—Fuck, let’s do it tomorrow. If you want a baby, we can make one right now. Just tell me. I’ll do it for you.”
Marriage and a baby? Did he need me to step into her shoes and provide a child so he could remember them through me?
“I don’t want to be any of those. You don’t have to say these things to make me feel better. I don’t want marriage. Not even a baby.”
He looked like I had just struck him. “I understand how you feel about marriage, but the baby? You used to say you wanted them. Did you change your mind? Don’t you want one with me?”
I shook my head. “Not yours.”
He stood up then, backing away while asking, “Why ever not?”
“I don’t want us to live in their shadows.” Their being Amelia and their baby.
“You think you are?” he shouted at me.
My answer would end everything, but I couldn’t hide anymore.
“Yes,” I answered, looking away.
“Then why the fuck are you with me, Lucy?” he barked out, sounding insulted and infuriated.
“Because you asked me to.”
“That’s not a bloody answer. So you’re here, tolerating this nonsense, because I asked you to? If the bloody Pope himself asks of you to run naked in the streets of Rome, would you? I thought not! So don’t give me this ludicrous excuse. Don’t you think for yourself?”
I looked at him, irritated from his patronizing tone. “Of course I do! Why do you think I’m here? I’m here because I fucking love you—even if it’s killing me inside. I hate that you have wedding pictures stashed in closets. Or how your wedding ring sits next to my toothbrush. I hate that every time you look sad, I always imagine that you’re thinking about them, hoping that it was them with you instead of me. But most of all, I fucking hate you! I hate you for ruining me for any other man because no one could come close, not even if they tried.”
“Why don’t you ever say anything? I had no idea how you were feeling—”
We hadn’t addressed anything, nothing of importance. “Why should I? It would only make me look weak. Well, it’s irrelevant—because I already do. I’ve always been weak when it comes to you.”
“You’ve driven me mad with jealousy, insecurity and distrust…” he started, looking at the other side of the room, as if needing distance. “You eviscerated me. Left me on my own to pick up the pieces and try to live with what was left in my life. When you left, you took my present and future with you. You had me begging on my knees just to have you again, but you—you turned your back on me, as if I was a nuisance in your life that needed ridding of. BUT STILL, even after all that mentioned, I still pursued you. When you dated Troy, I was devastated, but that didn’t stop me from trying to get you back. Even when I was casually seeing Amelia, I still chased after you. No matter what I did, nothing could make you come back to me!
“I wasn’t over you—not even when I found about the baby, not even when the talks of a wedding came up. But at that point, it was a wake-up call for me, and I was hoping it would do the same for you. When I saw you in Madrid, I thought you were there to beg me to stop all the nonsense and come back to you, to tell me that you’ve had enough living without me, but you chose to walk out on me, yet again.
“Each time I saw you around our friends, or at events that involved me seeing you again, I always ended up following your trail, begging like a pitiful excuse of a man because I simply couldn’t get enough of you. Each encounter was worse than the other. It had been so long by then that, at times, I thought what I’d had with you was simply an illusion I had made up upon desperation… then Rome happened.
“I meant to get you back, I truly did. That’s why I filed for divorce, mainly because of you and for my own welfare and sanity. I moved back here, thinking that I could be around you, and at the same time, build something for our future. But I witnessed how miserable you were when I was around… so that made me step back and think about what was best for you.
“Freeing you killed me, Luce. Then Amelia committed suicide, endangering the baby’s life. And when she died, looking so tiny and helpless, those tiny eyes telling me that she knew she was wasn’t going to live long—” He looked pained, eyes moist from recalling the past.
“It was one tragedy after the other. I was emotionally exhausted and felt like I had no purpose in life. When I found you that night in my living room, I was furious because you were there when I had freed you to do whatever you wanted. But you were persistent… and I despised you for that. My plan was easy, and that was to drink myself into oblivion until I was dead. It was brilliant and the least painful way to die. The uncomplicated plan was well on its way until you came along. You made everything complicated.”
I stared at him in horror. I’d had no idea…
“I wanted you to leave me alone, but you were such a persistent pest. When you offered your body for me to use, I was drunk, but I wasn’t daft, either. So, of course I took advantage of that, thinking that I was going to die the next day anyway, so why not take a small memory that had you in it to keep me companion when I’m dead and gone? I just wanted to take you once, but you went all out on me that night, becoming this highly crazed, sexual woman—and I wanted more of you. When I fell asleep with my cock buried deep within you, I remember thinking that maybe living for you wouldn’t be so terrible, and I was somehow okay with that.
“The next day, I woke up to you getting dressed, seeming distant. And you told me you were going out that night. I told myself that I didn’t care about you, that I could care less if you shagged a dozen men, that sex the night before wasn’t that phenomenal and that I should carry on with my plan.
“I somehow ended up waiting for you. I gave myself until three a.m. and if you didn’t show up, I’d end it then. Luck was on my side because you chose to show up, looking so gorgeous with that flimsy, little, short fucking dress that showed off your long legs and your body, and the makeup that made your eyes so sexy. I hated you on sight, and yet, I wanted to fuck you until kingdom come.