by A. Constanza
“We haven’t slept together.”
“Hmm, well he must be in love then,” she said, giving me a knowing smile. “But, if you don’t reciprocate the same amount of love or at least sleep with him, it might cause trouble in paradise.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, crossing my arms and giving her a bothered look.
She shrugged. “They leave,” she shared, casually. “They get bored. It’s what most men do anyway; all my male friends tell me the same things.”
“Seems like you need new male friends,” Salem advised, playfully throwing Bianca a grape.
“Maybe.” She chuckled.
Bianca’s words caused an internal frenzy. Ignacio wasn’t that kind of man; he wouldn’t leave me for not loving him or sleeping with him right away. We agreed on taking it slow.
As Salem and Bianca drank through all the expensive wine and chattered, I found myself deep in my thoughts. There were feelings that I couldn’t ignore resurfacing again. Insecure. Anxious. Irrational. Hopeless.
Everything Bianca had said had shifted me off track, and I was stumbling across the tightrope that I was walking on.
I couldn’t remember the last time I was this scared about my next step.
TWENTY-ONE
Ignacio
I stood out on my balcony with a cup of water in hand. I tried to ease my racing mind by admiring the pastel colors of the sky. Below me, caterers, party planners, and the soon-to-be bridezilla zoomed across the lawns to make sure everything was in order.
I winced at the sound of Camilla’s shrieking voice. “Are you all trying to sabotage me? These flowers look dead!”
“Tell me why you’re marrying her again?” I asked Marcelo, who came out onto the master bedroom’s balcony.
“Money, business, legacy.”
“I couldn’t do it. I refused, actually.” It was one of my proudest moments. I genuinely refused to be one of my father’s little pawns and fought for what I could’ve had with Estella.
“It’s not for everyone. You’ve been the softest one out of the two of us.” He paused and breathed deeply. “Hmm, but thinking about it now, I don’t think you’ve ever told me you loved a girl.”
“I’ve loved before.”
He was right.
“Who?”
“I’m currently in love,” I rephrased. If love was what I felt with Estella, then I had never loved a girl before her. The connection, chemistry, and compatibility that I had with Estella were unreal. There had to have been some cosmic force that pulled me and Estella to the same country, same city, across from one another.
“How long have you been seeing her?” he asked, a bit offended I hadn’t told him earlier.
“Two weeks, officially.”
“She’s coming to the dinner, right?”
“Yes.”
Marcelo nudged my arm. “Have you slept with her?”
“No, we are taking it slow.” I hated lying to him; he was my best friend, and I had to lie about sleeping with Estella.
That was a night I would never forget, and lying about it felt like a sin. I would always remember how she hummed when I traced her body with kisses, how her legs parted innocently for me, but somehow, she seemed confident in her decision, and the way she moaned in my ears as I entered her. I gripped her tightly against me as I rocked into her, and she tightened her tan legs over me. Neither of us wanted the night to end.
“I respect that.” Marcelo nodded in approval.
I nodded in appreciation.
Marcelo placed his hands on the railing and stood up straight. “Thank you for letting us use the villa. I don’t know what we would’ve done if you didn’t offer the villa.” They originally planned to rent a villa elsewhere, but that villa had been vandalized a couple of days ago. I offered my villa to Marcelo whose mind had been driven stir-crazy by Camilla. I didn’t understand her appeal to him, but I had to support him regardless.
I patted his shoulder. “It’s no problem. Go help your soon-to-be wife before this villa becomes a crime scene.” I shuddered at Camilla’s yelling. She had no respect for anyone. Marcelo rolled his eyes and left without saying another word.
Poor man.
***
My gaze traced the outline of Estella’s goddesslike body; the way she carried herself made me want to lose myself in her. The light blue, silk dress accentuated her every curve, highlighting her natural hourglass figure. I stood beside her, wrapping my arm around her waist, pulling her closer toward me. All I wanted to do was touch her.
We entered through the gates and into the backyard filled with strangers and acquaintances. There were a few people that recognized me and gave me a simple smile, and others looked at me without any care in the world. I entertained many friendly strangers with a nod and made my way through the crowd and to the firepit in the back corner of the yard.
“Wow, this view to my house is incredible. It’s almost picturesque.”
I stood behind Estella, her body slightly leaned against mine. “I wake up every morning and look out here, then I smile, knowing that you live right across from me.”
Estella raised her head and watched me through her long lashes. She had a contemplative look on her face, almost as if she was trying to read me. She lowered her head and then composed herself before breaking the distance between us. It didn’t feel good to be away from Estella, and it was even more painful when she was near and I couldn’t touch her.
“Would you like to dance?” I asked.
She crossed her arms over her chest and peeked at the not-too-occupied dance floor.
“One dance?” I asked, reaching my hand out to her.
“Okay.” She nodded.
Estella placed her delicate hands over mine, and I led her to the wooden dance floor. I pulled her close to my chest, my eyes never leaving hers. She looked up at me again, and once again, I caught her staring at me, deep in thought. I wrapped one arm around her middle and with my free hand, stroked her cheek with my thumb.
“Are you okay?” I asked, softly.
Estella pressed her cheek against my chest and didn’t answer my question. We continued to sway to the music in silence, but my mind buzzed with questions. I wanted to look at her and see what she was feeling because I was certain that something was wrong.
I pulled away from her slightly and stepped back, then brought her back into my arms with a spin. She landed with her hands on my chest and looking up at me with lost eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered.
Estella’s lips opened, and before she could respond to my question, a young man approached us. His hazel eyes met mine, but then he glanced over at Estella. Estella’s breath hitched, and she looked more alert.
“Do you mind if I cut in?” he asked.
I’d never seen this man before, but it was clear that Estella knew him. I wanted to tell him that he couldn’t dance with my Estella, but instead, I released Estella and allowed her to decide. Estella looked at me with worried eyes and without receiving any confirmation, the man held her hand and pulled her into a dance. She didn’t react negatively nor positively.
I tensed my jaw and walked back, staring at his hand on her waist. I wanted to burn a hole through his hand; I hated that he was touching her. Estella kept her distance and her head low, not wanting to face him directly.
The man spoke to her, murmuring occasionally, and even chuckled once.
Estella didn’t look the least bit entertained by him. I cupped my hands together, rubbing them, because I needed to do something with them other than to wish I could push him away from her. There was a gentle squeeze on my shoulder, and I turned to see Salem standing next to me.
“I can feel the scorpion come out.” She smirked.
“Who is he?” I asked, gritting my teeth.
“You look good in your navy-blue suit.” She tried to change the subject.
“Salem,” I warned.
“H
e’s my cousin, Nico. They had a thing about ten years ago. They were kids, doing kid things.” She was trying to lessen the severity of the situation by telling me they were young, but I was young once. Five years ago, I became completely transfixed by the idea of Estella, and here I was five years later, pursuing her.
Time and age had nothing and everything to do with it.
Salem placed her hands on my arms and led us to the dance floor. She kept her arms there while I hovered my hands a centimeter away from her waist. She definitely knew how to take the lead and eventually managed to maneuver us closer to Estella.
“I’ve been trying to look for you all over social media,” Nico said. “I even managed to get your number, but that didn’t work either.”
“I deleted all social media and changed my number shortly before moving to Italy.”
“I’ve been trying to contact you for almost two months. I was in Brooklyn for a bit and wanted to take you out to eat, then I heard you were in Italy. I figured I’d see you at Camilla’s wedding. You look great, by the way.”
“Are you hearing this?” I whispered to Salem, who had her eyes on the crowd of men circling Marcelo.
“Not really.”
“Yeah, I can’t do this,” Estella said in disappointment. I released Salem when I saw Estella walking away from the dance floor and towards the villa. She walked by the same group of men that Salem had her eyes on, and I watched them all give her a once-over. I fast-walked toward Estella, managing to meet her at the door in time.
“Do you want to go elsewhere? Maybe the piano room?” I suggested.
Estella looked unwell. The color from her face had been drained, she looked weak, and she placed a hand over her forehead. “Yeah, sure.” She sighed.
We didn’t speak on our way to the piano room, but I walked closely beside her.
We entered the light blue room, and Estella walked toward the familiar piano, grazing her fingers over it. The way she touched the piano displayed how much it meant to her. If only she knew how much it meant to me. She danced her fingers up toward the fox-and-piano figurine, giving it a faint smile.
I situated myself on the bench and started bouncing my hands around to find the right notes, tempo, and rhythm for a song that I’d never actually played before. There were no piano sheets or any physical copy of this song. I had mentally composed it over those five years after leaving Paris; it was all about Estella—light, wistful, romantic. It was the tantalizing dance between past and present.
“What is this called?” she asked, placing her hand on the piano and watching me play as she stood next to me.
“Leaving Paris,” I said, facing her. “It’s about the last five years without you.”
Estella didn’t say anything else. She simply stood there, watching my fingers dance up and down the piano keys.
We found ourselves in the same situation as five years ago: enjoying a night of music, returning to a small space, and playing the piano to wind down. The last move would be to undress and ravage each other like desperate lovers. My heart pounded against my chest, and for a brief second, I believed that it was louder than the piano. The need for her grew stronger with every high note that I pressed. My fingers trailing close to her hand that had rested near the music shelf.
My fingers gracefully slid away from the piano and onto her hand. I faced her, scanning every one of her delicate features, and then her innocent brown eyes met mine. I reached for her waist, pulling her onto my lap. Her legs straddled me tightly, and my hands ran up her arched back as I watched her in fascination.
I claimed her lips, grabbing the nape of her neck, intensifying the kiss. Her lips, her touch, her lustrous perfume, her soft moans made me ache for her. I pulled away to bury my face into her neck, pressing hot kisses all over. Estella’s nails dug into my shoulders, and I continued to plant kisses and worked downward to her collarbone, lining it with kisses.
“Oh, God.”
I hooked my finger along the strap of her dress and lowered it down her shoulder to get more access to her beautiful body. I loved and craved her. Five years. I needed her now.
Estella held onto my shoulders and then extended herself upward as she lowered my head to her breast. My lips moved down, and I took a nipple in my mouth, sucking it gently. Estella immediately moaned and clutched my head against her body.
She loved it.
My mouth moved from one nipple to another, teasing it with a light bite. Her hips began to circle in need, and I groaned in anticipation.
“Are you sure?” I whispered, my mouth traveling back up her neck. “Tell me you want this, Estella,” I begged.
“I-I…”
I pulled away, searching her eyes for an answer. She placed her hand on her chest and exhaled deeply as if she had been holding her breath. I pushed away a piece of hair that fell in front of her face and tried to cup her cheek to read her, but she pushed my hand away.
“I need to go,” she mumbled, pulling her legs away from me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out to her, but she was already out the door. I followed behind her because I needed her to know that I was sorry for asking too much from her. “Estella.”
“Just, give me some space, Ignacio,” she responded, taking long strides toward the end of the hallway.
It wasn’t possible for me to give her space when I felt that she was permanently removing herself from my life. There was something off about her ever since she’d arrived, and I had to make sure she wasn’t having doubts about us. All I wanted was us.
“Estella, please, don’t run away from me.”
She made a swift turn to the left and opened the door to the bathroom. Estella immediately yelped and stepped back with her hands in front of her.
I jogged to her side and looked into the bathroom to see what had made her react. Camilla fumbled to put her dress back on, and a man I had never seen before squeezed by her to exit the bathroom. There was murder in my eyes, and he knew because once he brushed past me, he ran down the hallway.
“Get out of the bathroom, Camilla,” I huffed.
Camilla usually had a confident, better-than-you attitude, but not at the moment. She was terrified and had every reason to be scared.
I gripped my neck in irritation and walked around in a circle, trying to decipher my feelings. I wanted to sort out the issue I was having with Estella and instead had to deal with finding out my best friend’s fiancée was having an affair. My heart slammed against my chest, aggravated by the whole situation, but I had to remain calm.
“It may be for the best if you told Marcelo yourself about what happened here. It may be the only redeeming thing you’ve done in your life.”
Camilla nodded and then followed closely behind me as I led her back to the party. Estella could’ve left, but she lingered behind Camilla. Perhaps she didn’t have too much confidence in Camilla either because I certainly didn’t. I couldn’t believe that I had to deliver this news to Marcelo on the day he was supposed to celebrate his engagement.
Camilla deserved to be humiliated in front of her friends and family, but I wasn’t going to do that. I called for Marcelo from the sunroom and watched him quirk his head to the side.
“What’s going on?” he asked, and then he looked over my shoulder. “Who is that with Camilla?”
“Estella.” I sighed.
Marcelo brushed past me and offered his hand out to Estella. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m glad you could make it to the party.”
Estella simply shook his hand and then looked at me. My eyes darted to Camilla and then to Marcelo. Marcelo dragged his hands across his face and exhaled.
“What’s going on now?”
“I’m sorry,” Camilla cried, exaggerated. It was clear that she was apologizing for getting caught. “I didn’t mean to…”
Even Estella rolled her eyes at Camilla’s nonsense words.
“Spit it out,” Marcelo said, gritti
ng his teeth together.
Camilla schooled her face to appear devasted, but it was too contrived. She wasn’t going to tell him unless he pulled it out of her, and I didn’t have the patience to deal with Camilla. It might’ve been a selfish move, but I had my own relationship to worry about.
“Estella and I found her having sex with another man in the bathroom.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Camilla repeated.
Estella rolled her eyes and turned her back to us and headed toward the door. I couldn’t let her leave without talking to me. I glanced at Marcelo, and he could tell that I had a lot more to deal with than Camilla. He gave me a firm nod to reassure me that I wasn’t needed, and I quickly followed behind Estella.
“Estella, wait,” I called.
She walked past the grand front doors and searched the lot. I wasn’t sure who or what she was looking for, but I knew she was desperate for a way out. When she realized that she had no other way to leave other than to walk on foot, she headed toward the entrance gates. I didn’t want to leave, but more than anything, I just wanted her to be safe.
“Estella, let me take you home.” I hoped that maybe she’d open up in a more private setting.
“Ignacio,” she cried. “I want to be alone.”
“Talk to me, please.”
Estella balled her hands into a fist and waved them in front of her in frustration. “I can’t!” She covered her face and exhaled deeply. “I can’t do this, Ignacio. I can’t give you what you want.”
She had given me everything that I had wanted. All I wanted was a second chance, nothing more. Estella was enough for me. I didn’t need the title, the sex, or even her love—not yet anyway.
“I wanted a second chance; you gave it to me. I haven’t asked for anything more, and if what happened in the piano room was too much, then I won’t test those waters until you’re ready.”