by Valentina F.
I was just fifteen and he was my first love. I really thought we'd be together forever. Who knew that one day fate would bring me face-to-face with Benjamin Carter. I picture his adoring face and catch my breath.
I feel guilty and invincible at the same time. My conscience keeps repeating that Leonardo didn’t deserve what I did but, at the same time, my heart won't listen to reason. I didn't leave Rome with the intention of cheating on him or falling in love with someone else...it just happened.
"Ciao, Tata." He gives me a chaste kiss on the lips and I don't pull away. "How did last night go?"
"With my grandparents? We had a blast!" I slip from his grasp and get into the car. "Where are we going?" I ask as soon as he starts the engine.
"Ponte Milvio, they're waiting for us." He's radiant but his enthusiasm doesn't touch me. The last thing I want to do right now is see his friends and pretend we're fine when we're not.
We sit in deafening silence until I reach out and turn on the stereo. Vasco Rossi's latest song blasts out from the speakers and I try to focus on the lyrics.
"Are you okay?" Leo asks, without taking his eyes off the road.
"Sure." No! I'm not at all okay.
"We'll have an aperitif then go to my place. Mom's away and Dad's in Madrid, so I've organized a romantic dinner, just for us."
My stomach tightens at the thought of being alone with him, surrounded by four walls. It's going to be even more difficult to confess.
I nod anyway, at this point the location doesn't really matter.
Our friends are sitting around three small tables that they've put together, passing around expensive bottles of wine. As soon as they see me, Monica and Giulia run toward me, wrapping their arms around me, hugging me.
"Ciao, stranger! Oh, God. We missed you so much!"
My heart is pounding in my chest. I feel so awkward and I don't know why. I've known these girls for years. We've always been close and we kept in touch over the past three months, but I can't seem to relax. I force my mouth into a fake smile and make my way around the tables, greeting my friends.
"Wow, look at you, so tanned and healthy. We should all move to Florida." Marco, Leonardo's best friend, gets up from his chair and gives me an affectionate hug. He's the only one of Leonardo's friends that I really like. Unlike the others, he doesn't go around bragging about how rich he is every ten minutes or flashing the new Rolex his daddy gave him or boasting about the seven-star vacation he's planning. He may be disgustingly rich but he's relatively normal.
"Ciao, Marco. You don’t look too bad yourself!" I wink and he hugs me again.
Leonardo wraps a hand around my waist and pulls me away from Marco. Monica and Giulia make room for me between them and we immediately get lost in one of our endless conversations before Monica pulls out her cell phone and hands me a glass of wine.
"Celebration selfie!" She doesn't add, 'For Facebook'. She doesn't need to, she virtually lives on social networks. We huddle in close and she holds her phone up, snapping once, twice, three times, until she gets a photo she likes and a few seconds later it's already on Facebook.
Then Marco wants a photo of us all together and I begin to shake. Ben will see them and he won't be happy. He uses Facebook mostly for keeping the Matching Scars page up to date but I'm sure that, while I'm away, he won't resist the temptation to take a peek at my profile.
Leo's arms are around my shoulders, his cheek just a breath away from mine.
My iPhone vibrates in my pocket, telling me I have notifications.
Caterina Zanetti was tagged in a photo.
Caterina Zanetti is at Ponte Milvio with Leonardo Ranieri.
Then Marco writes, in Italian, fortunately: Finally! There’s no way we’re sending you back to Florida now!
Giulia looks at the group photo. "We look so good in this one."
We catch up on what they've been up to over the past months and I drink more and more wine, trying to relieve my tension, but it doesn't work. Soon, I'm going to be more than just tipsy and my anxiety will suffocate me.
I get another notification and I'm about to ignore it when I read: Caterina Zanetti was tagged in Mark Carter’s video.
Shit!
I run my fingers down the screen, waiting for the video to load. Mark just tagged me in a video of Ben singing Ross Copperman's “Hunger”. Asshole! What a baby! He had all that time to post the video and he has to do it now?
I'm dying to open it but I hold back and everything would have been okay if Giulia hadn't leaned over and snatched my iPhone from my hand.
"Are these those musician guys? The ones next door?"
I never told her much about them but social networks have the power to invade our lives even when we don't want them to. I never post anything on my profile but, apparently, the rest of the world likes to tag me in their posts. "Yes. They must have shared songs from their last concert." I try to cut her short, but Giulia presses play.
Fuck me!
The yells in the background are electrifying, everyone clapping and calling their names. The camera zooms in on Ben and my heart suddenly stops. He's so beautiful, so exciting and dangerous. I missed all this when we were in the club a couple of nights ago. I watch as he slips his electric guitar over his head and passes it to Ryan then walks over to the keyboard. He exchanges a couple of glances with Kris, who smiles mysteriously before winking at Ben, who laughs.
"Shh! Everyone, shut up a minute!" Giulia yells, turning the volume up.
My cheeks are on fire. "Giulia, no, we'll listen later, it's..."
"Shh!"
Ben's voice rings out loud and clear from my iPhone and I want to throw myself off the balcony, till I remember we're on the ground floor. "Blondie...it’s a little late but Happy Birthday!"
I just can’t catch a break, can’t I? I glance up and my eyes meet Leonardo's shocked gaze.
"Oh my God! He's so hot!" Giulia exclaims, though her boyfriend is only two seats away.
Leonardo is agitated now, a look of pure hatred on his face. I've never seen him so upset and I can't move. "Those four idiots again?"
I have Ben's voice on one side, Leonardo's icy stare on the other. He gets up and strides toward the bathroom. Without hesitation, I run after him. "Leo, wait!"
He halts and slams his fist against the wall but he still doesn't turn around. "Fuck! He's dedicating fucking songs to you now, is he, Caterina?" He turns and I wait for him to open his eyes. "You can't leave him out of our lives, even for one night?" he accuses, his shouts attracting the attention of the two waiters behind the bar.
"Of course, I can. It was Giulia who pressed play..." I sound stupid and hypocrite to my own ears.
"We've got two weeks to fix things between us, I don't even want to hear their names. If I hear ‘Blondie’ one more time, I’ll go crazy!" I'm so overwhelmed by his rage, I don't know what to say. He charges into the bathroom and I return to our table, my tail firmly between my legs.
He comes back fifteen minutes later and sits down, refusing to look at me.
"Are you guys coming for dinner?" Marco asks when we leave the bar.
The cold wind makes me feel better immediately, though it doesn't help the headache that I got from all that wine. The air inside was stale, I could hardly breathe, and the music was too loud, not to mention, Leonardo's icy stare was a continuous knife to the heart.
"No, Tata and I have other plans."
"Ah, okay...I see." Marco's tone is completely out of place. He must have noticed something is wrong between us, since we barely spoke all night. Leonardo was mostly outside smoking and when he was inside, he hardly uttered a word, and he's drunk a lot more than usual.
I say goodbye to everyone, promising to meet up soon.
"Are you still coming over to mine or shall I take you home?" Leo asks sharply as soon as we're alone in the car. He's trying to control his voice, but I've never seen him so angry.
"I think we need to talk..." It feels like I'm being dragged off to
the gallows.
"Whatever." He turns on the music without even looking at me.
50
Leo's house is twice the size of mine. I'd be terrified if I lived here, it's always so silent and cold. He leads me through the door onto the glass covered terrace then turns on the heating and in a few minutes it becomes warm and inviting. The view from the terrace is amazing, with the silhouette of St. Peter's in the distance.
A table is elegantly set for two; candles, flowers, rose petals scattered everywhere. This is where we made love for the first time, on one of those double-sized canopy beds while pretending to sunbathe. I have so many memories of this place...how could I forget everything we did together so easily?
"I'll go warm up dinner." Leonardo goes back inside, leaving me alone with my many thoughts.
I sit down on the swingseat and kick off my shoes, then curl my legs up against my chest and lose myself in the view from the terrace.
Leo comes back with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. Great, just what I need, more wine. "Margo's still here so she'll serve us."
"Who's Margo?" I ask, looking up.
"The new housekeeper."
He opens the wine, pours it into the two crystal glasses, hands me one, then sits down next to me. "Do you mind?" he asks, tapping a cigarette from a packet of Marlboro.
He knows I hate it when he smokes, especially when we're in enclosed spaces like this. I don't feel I have the right to say anything right now but I'm taken aback when he laughs sarcastically. "You don't give a shit about me anymore, do you?" He knocks back his wine, emptying the glass.
"You're wrong." I raise my head and look him in the eye. "I'll always care about you."
"Yeah, sure you will. Liar!"
That's it. I've had enough of being treated like this. I don't love him anymore, I can't help it, but I won't put up with his behavior any longer. "Stop it!" I jump to my feet, my arms folded across my chest. "You're not the only one who's hurting. Stop playing the victim!"
"Are you for real, Cat? Because you're the one who left and never looked back, while I sat here waiting for you, just like we promised." He's right, but I can't do anything about it. "You let yourself be brainwashed by those four idiots in Orlando and you've forgotten all about us. Who do you think you are?"
I step back in shock. "No, who do you think you are? They're not idiots and I haven't been brainwashed by anyone. But you know what? I'd rather be with them than spend the whole evening listening to Giacomo bragging about his new fucking Rolex or Giulia bleating on about her selfies on Instagram, asking me which fucking picture looks better...or Alessandro who never shuts up about the goddamn boat his father just bought. I can't stand listening to their crap any longer."
Leo takes a long drag of his cigarette and calmly breathes out. "Do forgive us if we're not working-class enough for you, or not interesting enough. Would you rather talk about NASA, or vintage American muscle cars? What do you want, Caterina? Do you think you're better than us?"
Whaaat?
"No, Leo. You're the one who feels superior. You're the one who decides how, when, and where and you always have."
"Sorry, it's not my fault if I have a stronger personality than you and don't let others walk all over me!" He leaps to his feet and puts his cigarette out in the ashtray.
"So, now I have a weak personality?"
"You've always been weak. Content to follow the masses and never think for yourself."
I'm furious. It's not true, I'm not like that at all. "Yeah? What are you doing with such a useless woman, then? You must be quite an idiot yourself if you even thought of giving her an engagement ring." I thrust my feet into my shoes and grab my purse, finally ready to tell him to fuck off.
"Okay, wait." He puts his hands on his hips and takes a long breath. "I don't think that, really I don't. I want to be with you. I love you!"
"Go to hell."
I move to go back inside but he grabs me from behind. "Tata, I'm sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I'm nervous and terrified at the thought of losing you. Please, sit down. We'll have dinner and talk."
"I'll stand, thanks!"
"What? You're offended now because I said you're weak?"
I'll show him how fucking weak I am!
"I'm weak because I want the people I care about to be happy? Let me think about that, Leo, because until you can prove otherwise, the one with enough balls to move all on their own to another country, on another continent was me, while you stayed here, stuck in your boring little life!" I hiss.
"This is your life, too!" he yells. "You can play at being Miss-Cool-American-College-Girl all you like but, when it's all over, this is where you'll come back. To me."
"You? You sure about that?"
"Of course, I am. Where else would you go? I'm the only one who can guarantee you a better life and don't pretend you don't know it."
What the hell is he saying?
"I'm not your bloody mother!" The filter between my brain and my mouth shatters into a thousand pieces and, for a moment, his shocked expression leaves me shaken.
"What the fuck does my mother have to do with it?"
Yes, what does his mother have to do with all this? I've started now, however, and there's no stopping me. "I don't care about your money or your stupid title. I never did and insinuating that I only went out with you because you can offer me a “better future” makes you sound like a jerk!"
Leo grabs his pack of cigarettes and lights another one, then sits down at the table. With extreme calm, he pours himself another glass of wine.
He takes two generous gulps then continues. "Hypocrite! Don't pretend you never liked the gifts or the places we went on vacation or that when you walk in the club and everyone knows you're the girlfriend of one of the Ranieris’ it doesn’t make you feel important."
The situation is degenerating now. "What are you blathering about? Since when have you thought that? My father will be so happy when he finds out you go around spouting such shit. I don't need you."
"Who do you need, then? That asshole who plays the guitar?"
I don't know if he means Mark or Ben, but it really doesn't matter. "Why not? Perhaps he'll make me happy."
He sits there for a second, his eyes wide in anger. "You were happy with me, once," he points out, his voice faint.
"Yes, I was. When you were a nice, polite guy. Too shy to speak about money, or accuse me of being a gold digger." What is he talking about, anyway? I have my father, he gives me whatever I need. "But that's not why I don't love you anymore."
The patio door opens and a woman in her fifties steps onto the terrace and smiles. "Okay, kids. Dinner's ready." She places a tray on a trolley pulled up next to the table and starts serving up plates of delicious-looking food.
We wait until she's gone back inside and Leonardo sits down. "Let's eat now, anyway."
"Stop giving me orders. I'm not hungry." I take my glass and sit down on the swingseat, crossing my legs without removing my shoes. If I dirty the cushions, he can buy himself another one, since he has so much money.
Leo eats his dinner, sitting quietly at the table while I continue to sip my wine in silence. We've never fought like this before, we've always held back from saying certain things. Is it also my fault? Is this a result of the way my grandmother brought me up? I'm one of the most polite people ever, but apparently, my good manners have been mistaken for weakness. I feel like calling her and telling her it's all her fault. Her granddaughter, engaged to a Ranieri...what an honor!
I was in love with Leonardo no matter what, because when you're fifteen you don't care about certain things. The only thing I cared about was holding his hand and going to the movies with him, kissing and cuddling in the dark.
He's changed, too, in the past few months, all the stress from his parents has made him bitter. It's not like him to say all those things, it feels more like he's acting out one of his parents' fights.
"Are you not eating?" he asks calmly, as
if nothing has happened.
"I told you I'm not hungry," I snap.
He gets up and brings me a plate, practically overflowing with risotto, and sits down next to me. "Come on, Tata. Eat something, you can't just drink," he says sweetly and I recognize his apprehensive tone. This is the Leonardo I fell in love with; sweet, polite, caring. And it will be very hard to tell him I don’t love him anymore.
He raises a forkful of rice and I open my mouth. He feeds me the rice then leans in close and gives me a peck on the cheek but I instinctively pull away. Without saying a word, he puts the plate down then grabs my face and lunges at me, gluing his mouth to mine, kissing me. I try to stop him but he's stronger than me. He slips his tongue inside my mouth and I let him kiss me. He tastes of wine and something sweet. He kisses me urgently, as if he has something to prove to me, as quickly as possible. One hand works its way under my sweater and with one swift movement he pulls it off.
"Leo!" I try to stop him but his powerful body is too strong. His mouth presses down hard against mine and there's no escape from his greedy tongue. He lies on top of me and squeezes my breast, making my wince. "Leo, stop!"
He pulls away a few inches and glares down at me, and his eyes, full of tears, chill me to the bone. "No, because you're my girlfriend and I want you like I've never wanted you before. Make love with me, Caterina. Let's start all over, from here." His pleading eyes are nothing compared to the pain in his voice.
I can't make love with him…I'm no longer his.
"I can't," I whisper and push him away. I get to my feet, looking for my sweater, but his grip on my wrist tightens and, before I can bend over and pick it up he spins me around to face him. He can't take his eyes off my bracelet, which I'd tried to cover with my sleeve, and I immediately regret wearing it. What kind of bitch would do something like that?
"You can't? Why? Why can’t you?" His eyes are still glued to my bracelet and his grip on my wrist grows tighter.