by AJ Wolf
I remembered to call Mamma after getting my ribs popped back in place, so I don’t have to worry about going and getting Duke, or her seeing me. Which is good because I’m so fucking ready to go home.
My phone rings and I look over seeing it’s Delaney. I grab it, and a slight wheeze leaves my chest at the reach.
“Laney Girl.”
“Hey, how are you feeling? Did you go get checked?”
Putting the phone on speaker, I set it in the console. “I did and I’m fine. I said I was fine when you left.”
She doesn’t say anything for a minute and the tension gives me goosebumps. “Are you going home? Can I come over?”
“Yea, you remember the address?”
“I do. I’ll see you there.”
She hangs up and I frown at the phone, letting it turn itself off. I wonder if she’s gone to see Donatello yet, or if she’s just been with Beverly. She sounded stressed on the phone but based on how the beginning half of the day went, that’s not surprising.
She’s outside when I pull up to my building, standing outside the security doors with her arms wrapped around herself. She smiles when she sees me, but it's not genuine. Her big browns already pooling as she watches the way I cradle my side, wincing when I move too quickly. I’m not hiding my pain from her because it hurts to do it, and if anyone can see me weak, it’s her.
“How long have you been waiting?” I punch in the code for the doors and she opens them, holding it open so I don’t have to.
“Just a few minutes.”
I don’t know if I believe her or not, but I don’t question it, stepping into the elevator after her. There are only two condos in this building, mine and one that’s being remodeled by the owners. Ninety percent of the time I’m the only person in the entire building. She opens my door, knowing I keep it unlocked and I follow after her, dropping my phone and wallet on the shelf in the hall I walk to the couch, slowly settling into the fabric.
Laney drops in front of me, untying my boots and I frown at her attempting to sit up. “You don’t have to do that, Laney Girl.”
She waves me back, pulling them from my feet. “I want to.”
I can see she’s still fighting tears, eyes shining in the low light coming through the bay windows. She flicked on the kitchen light when she came in, but none of the other lights. “Talk to me Laney.”
She sets my boots off to the side, slowly moving to sit between my legs, resting her cheek on my knee. I feel her swallow against my leg and reach out, running my fingers along her cheek, waiting for her to speak.
“I think we should spend some time… apart.” She’s forcing the words out, her chin quivering as she tries not to let her tears fall.
“What do you mean Laney?” I know what she means. I just want it to mean something else. My body is fucking killing me and I don’t know if I can handle that kind of pain right now on top of it.
“Just… “ She moves her face from my knee to look straight at me. “I’m with Donatello and I can’t also be with you. I think it’d be best for the both of us if we spent some time apart.”
My heart is banging in my chest, lungs burning as I try to keep my breathing in check. “Don’t be with Donatello.”
She sucks her lips between her teeth, eyes dropping from my face and onto my hands. “I can’t do that.”
“You can’t, Delaney? What does that even mean.” I’m trying not to yell, but I can feel the panic rising in my chest, knowing I’m about to lose her.
“I love Donatello and it’s not fair for me to be with you also.”
I grab her chin, forcing her to look at me, the tears falling down her cheeks pausing the angry words I was about to say. My sweet girl should never cry because of me. “I love you, Laney Girl. Leave him and be with me instead.”
She starts shaking her head no, breaking my hold on her chin. “What do you mean no? I love you.”
“You can’t love me.” She pulls away from me, and I start to follow her, but the sharp stabbing in my side stops me, making me wince as I sit back into the pillows.
“What the fuck do you mean I can’t love you?” I close my eyes, trying to keep my anger from her.
“You just can’t love me!” She’s wiping her cheeks, chest shaking as she tries to breathe.
“Laney Girl, that’s not how this works. I’m not just going to stop loving you because you tell me I can’t.” It hurts to even say it, the realization that I’m truly about to lose her settling in my bones like pins and needles.
She’s standing across the room, crying into her elbow as she tries to calm herself, eyes pinched shut from me.
I force myself up, clenching my jaw until I’m up on my feet. Walking to her I grab the back of her head, pulling her into my chest. “What are you doing, Laney Girl? Why are you shutting me out? Let me in.”
Every sob that leaves her chest stabs directly into mine. “I can’t.”
I press my lips to the top of her head, breathing in her coconut scent as I try to get a hold of the situation that’s spiraling downward at an increasing rate. “I don’t know what that means.”
She carefully pushes from me, sniffling as she wipes the tears from her chin. “I love you, Jessie.” My heart bangs at her words, singing in my chest at finally hearing what we’ve been wanting for so long, but why is she crying about it? She blinks and more tears spill out the edges. “But I can’t be with you.”
I try to step toward her and stop, my ribs tweaking with my sudden movement. My heart has climbed into my throat, a hard lump I’m choking back down. “Why not?”
The next words from her mouth shatter like glass, slicing along in all directions to slash at my heart and lodge into my lungs. Tiny fragments digging so deep they’re impossible to dislodge. “I don’t want to be with you. I want to be with Donatello.”
I don’t want to believe her, if she truly felt that way why would she be sobbing over every word. I try to walk toward her again, but she backs away.
“Please respect my wishes to take some time apart. Maybe we can be friends again in the future.” The last word is practically a sob as she turns and runs out the door, the loud slamming echoing in my ears.
I can barely feel the pain in my ribs anymore, the ache in my heart like poison pumping through my limbs, venom collecting in my gut forcing me to sit down or hurl. I drop to the floor where I stand, rubbing a hand over my mouth. Pulling my hand away, I look at the tear drop that landed on the back of it. I didn’t shed a single tear while having my ribs kicked in, but that’s nothing compared to losing my girl.
Grabbing my jacket off the back of the stool sitting next to me, I pull out a cigarette and lighter. I make quick work of lighting it before I lay flat on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. I didn’t cry when my dad died or my first dog. I didn’t cry when I made my first kill or every time I got my assed kicked.
But I’m sure as fuck going to cry over Delaney Luciano.
I’m staring at yet another meme I can’t send Jessie, saving it into a folder on my phone with a hundred others. I don’t know why I’m doing it. Saving these stupid memes, but I keep adding more and more, each one piling onto the heaviness in my heart. Two and a half weeks have gone by since I ran out of his condo, and I haven’t heard a single word from him since. I knew I wouldn’t, because I specifically asked him for space and Jessie will do anything I want, even if it means hurting himself.
Donatello comes into the room and I turn the phone so he can see the image, he smiles but doesn’t laugh and I turn my phone back around. Jessie would have laughed. “Where are you going?”
He has his boots on already, his fingers wrapped in their rings. “The south warehouse.” He looks over at me as he throws on his leather jacket, watching me as I set my phone on the counter and cross my arms. “Do you want to come?”
“No.” I want to see Jessie.
He crosses the kitchen to get to me, and I tilt my face back to look up at him. He places a kiss on my lips, fingers
lingering on my chin as he pulls back. “I love you, Vita Mia.”
“I love you, too.”
He drops another kiss on my lips before turning away, heading toward the door. “I won’t be late.”
I don’t respond to him, just listen to the front door as it shuts. I slide onto the island seat, staring at my phone on the counter. I’ve been doing anything and everything the last few days to try and ignore the ache in my heart, the anxiety gathered in my gut. I want to talk to Jessie. Make sure he’s okay and healing, but I can’t. Besides, I have no way to without sparking up a wildfire of problems.
Every time I close my eyes all I see is the crack in his heart, the stake I stabbed into his chest. It just about killed me to do it, to make him feel that type of pain. I had to do it though. It was one man or the other and he’s safer without me in his life. I can feel my throat tightening at the reminder, and I move from my seat in an attempt to change the direction of my thoughts. Maybe I should go with Donatello. He only left a few minutes ago. He might still be here.
Opening the front door, I almost run into the woman standing there. Her arm raised like she was about to knock. “Oh, sorry I didn’t realize anyone was out here.” She smiles at me, dropping her arm and I realize I know who she is. “Olivia? You’re a secretary at one of the warehouses, right?”
“Uh, yea. I am.” She smiles, but it's forced and I watch as her hands adjust the oversized sweater she has on.
“Can I help you with something?” I’m trying not to be rude but considering the last time I saw her she was all over Donatello, it’s a struggle.
“I actually came to see Donatello. Is he here?”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I frown at her. “No, he just left. I can take a message for you?” It’s mimicking every time she ever said that to me on the phone, and I give her a closed mouth smile, leaning against the door frame.
“This is serious. I really need to talk to him.”
I hum, staring at her ashy bleached hair and perfectly applied makeup. It’s annoying to me that she’s pretty, and I’ve seen her without her makeup to know she looks great both ways. Bitch. “I don’t know what to tell you. He just left.”
“I… can you please call him.” She looks like she’s about to cry and it puts me on edge. I don’t think she’ll tell me what she came for without Donatello being here, and it’s the only reason I oblige, dialing his number as I watch her pinch her lips together.
“Pronto.” He must have answered his car phone without looking at the number.
“It’s me, are you far? Can you come back home?”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. But Olivia is here to see you.”
There’s a pause in the line, but I can hear the sound of the engine.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. She won’t tell me, only wants to talk to you.”
He sighs into the phone, and my gaze lands back on the woman in front of me.
“Fine, give me ten minutes.”
It’s extremely awkward waiting for Donatello to get there, both of us sitting on opposite ends of the couch, staring around the room. I don’t even know why I’m entertaining her and not just telling her to fuck off, but part of me wants to hear what she has to say. And if it’s as important as she seems to think it is, I want to hear it from her mouth, not a potential secondhand lie from Donatello’s.
Olivia jumps up when he opens the door and I frown at her, eyes leaving her fidgeting hands to Donatello’s equally annoyed face.
She hesitates, looking between us before she finally talks to him. “Can I talk to you in private?”
His arms fold over his chest and he shakes his head, “Spit it out Olivia. What the fuck are you doing here?”
Her face falls at his tone, her eyes shifting my way and back. “I… “ I almost feel bad for her, standing there with the both of us staring at her like she has a second head. “I’m pregnant.”
I laugh. It’s rude and completely inappropriate, but it just comes out, loud and obnoxious. I don’t even know why I’m laughing, but I am, wiping the tears from the corner of my eye as Donatello’s face twists into a sneer.
“Why would you come here and tell me this?” His fists are clenched over his chest, looking at the poor woman like she’s a piece of gum stuck to his boot.
“Because the baby is yours Donatello.”
I go off into another round of laughter, bent at the waist so I can’t even see the look on his face. I’m clearly having some kind of manic episode unable to get myself under control.
“You’re lying.”
It’s all he says and my chuckles just continue, as I use my palms to wipe the tears off my face. I’m able to stop long enough to get her attention with a hand on her arm, “How far along are you?”
She’s eyeing me, like I’m crazy, which honestly I might be. “Seven months.”
I fall apart at her answer, laughing so hard I can barely breathe. Seven months ago I was in the middle of depression; failing classes, losing weight, and on the verge of suicide. While this man who carries half of my heart, was fucking his secretary and apparently got her pregnant.
“Vita Mia, stop fucking laughing.”
I straighten at his words, my laughter turning into angry bitter tears. “Vita Mia!” I scream it at him, spitting them at him like they’re vile. “I am not your life. That… ” I point at Olivia’s belly, which now that she’s not fussing around it, I can see the bump hiding behind her sweater. “Is your life. Quite fucking literally.”
Olivia’s arms wrap around herself as I stare at Donatello. He shakes his head, his eyes moving from her belly, to my face and back. “She’s lying. And even if she’s not, I don’t want it.”
Her face drops at his words and even though I hate her with every fiber of my being, it tugs at my heart. She didn’t deserve that. “I think you should go Olivia. Donatello will call you when he’s had time to process this.”
She stares at me in surprise, her own eyes shining with tears. “You believe me?”
I look at Donatello when I answer. “I wish I didn’t.” My eyes flick back to meet hers. “Please leave.”
She starts shuffling toward the door, and Donatello steps out of her way, purposefully putting space between them. I can tell it bothers Olivia but she doesn’t comment, quietly slipping out the door. We stand there as she leaves, me watching her car drive away out the window. The second she’s out of sight I grab the lamp next to me and smash it onto the floor.
“Baby, she’s lying.”
I ignore him, walking straight to the bedroom as he follows. I start grabbing my clothes, shoving them in one of Donatello’s duffel bags.
“Delaney, stop.” He grabs my arms, spinning me to look at him. “Stop. That baby isn’t mine.”
“Did you sleep with her?” He doesn’t answer right away, so I ask it again, louder. “Did. You. Sleep. With. Her?”
“Yes, but we used a condom every time, it can’t be mine.”
I closed my eyes with the first word, trying to keep myself from cracking down the middle. There’s only so much a heart can take and mine has already suffered so fucking much. At this point I just feel numb. Broken and shattered so many times that not all the pieces were found, my heart super glued back together with so many missing parts I can’t even feel the pain I should be right now.
“Baby, we weren’t together. You told me you didn’t want me, that you wanted space. I thought I’d never have you again.” He grabs my face, forcing me to open my eyes. “If I had known you were coming back to me, I never would have touched her, never would have even looked her way. She means nothing to me. She is nothing.”
“That’s your baby.” It’s all I say, staring into his russet reds as he strokes my face with his thumbs. I don’t care that we weren’t together, he took Jessie from me and made me suffer alone, and then he goes and fucks someone behind my back.
“We don’t know that. I’ll make her take a paternit
y test.”
“That’s your baby and she means nothing to you?” I blink at him, swallowing hard. We both know that’s his baby. “What about when that baby shows up in two months? What about when that baby has the prettiest brown eyes that look red in the sun? What about when that baby cries for its daddy after a bad dream or needs to learn how to ride a bike? Will she still mean nothing to you?” I slap out of his hands, grabbing more clothes to shove in the bag.
“Vita Mia, you are the only thing that means anything to me.” He’s desperately trying to get me to look at him, grabbing at my hands that I rip away.
“Now. Donatello.” I stop, turning to face him. “I’m the only thing that means anything to you now. But I know that I won’t be forever, I could never top the woman who carries your child and you’re lying to yourself if you think I can.” He grabs for me but I sidestep him. “You said you wouldn’t share me, and now I understand how cruel and selfish that was of me because I won’t share you.”
“Delaney.” He finally gets a hold of me, pinching my upper arms between his fingers as he drops his forehead to mine. “I want to marry you. I want you to have my children. I want you to be the one I come home to everyday. I want to see your beautiful face every morning when I wake up. I only want you.” He presses his lips to my forehead, speaking against my skin. “You don’t have to share me, baby. I’m yours, only yours.”
I bring my hand up to his face, and he turns into the touch, holding my hand with his. “But you’re not mine. Not in the way that counts. Not anymore.” My eyes burn as I pull from him, his eyes still pinched shut. “How can we possibly have the future you want us to have without her in it? I won’t ever carry your first child, because she is. I will never be the only woman in your life because she will always be there. Even if all you do is send her child support, she will be there. And is that really how you’d want that baby growing up? Feeling unwanted? Unloved? I would have lived that life if I hadn’t had Ollie, and even that experience was damaging.”