Loving Tiago

by Shayne Ford

  My vision gets blurry as tears flood my eyes. I burry my cheek in my pillow and close my eyes. I can’t look at him right now. I feel miserable.

  I wish I could sleep for a week, and wake up to a different reality. One in which he and I are good again and these few days have never happened. One in which, I don’t feel lost and torn as I feel right now.

  His fingers start moving again, and I welcome his touch, but this time I sense him more reserved, and I fear that maybe he feels pity for me or possibly concern or guilt.

  He pushes up from his chair, bends at his waist and presses his lips against my face. He touches a small patch of skin on my cheekbone right where my tears trail.

  My body slackens as I feed on the goodness of this moment.

  “You are going to be fine, Eve.”

  His words breathe hope in me before he continues.

  “You need a few days of good care, and you’re going to be back on your feet in no time.”

  Just as fast, the sky falls on me again, and my tears start running. This sounds like a goodbye more than anything else.

  The fact that he starts to spin around only cements my belief.

  That very moment, the door opens, and James walks in. Smoothly stepping away from me, Tiago nears the window.

  My eyes swing between the two of them for a few moments, my mind spinning one lonely thought.

  Tiago Rossi belongs to the past.

  6

  EVE

  A week later, New York.

  “How do you feel?” Rain asks. “You look good,” she says, studying me through her phone lens.

  “I’m still a little tired. And I’m hungry all the time.”

  “That’s good.”

  I lift my knees and set my phone against my thighs to see her better.

  “Do you have enough food?”

  “My mom cooked for me. Besides, I spend most of my time ordering food online, so yeah. I’m good.”

  “Is she still there?”

  “She left an hour ago. She’s on her way back. I feel bad that I ruined their vacation. I told her that I was going to be okay, but she didn’t want to listen to me.”

  “She was worried. We all were.”

  “I know. But I’m fine now. And I learned my lesson.”

  She looks at me for a moment, searching my eyes.

  “Have you heard from your man?”

  “My man? Yes, my man...” I mutter, pulling myself together and gathering my thoughts in a moment. “Of course.”

  “Is he in town?”

  “Sadly, no.”

  Her eyebrows lift, a questioning look sitting on her face.

  “He couldn’t be there with you?”

  “He’s working on a big project, and he’s on a deadline.”

  “Where exactly?”

  “Oregon.”

  I smile.

  “Did he say anything?” she asks skeptically.

  “Yes. We talk on the phone every day.”

  My words don’t make her expression shift, not a bit.

  “And he also sends me flowers,” I add.

  I flick my phone and swing my arm, letting the camera sweep the room, capturing the beautiful floral displays. Armfuls of flowers decorate my place, tucked in vases of all shapes and forms, a rainbow of fresh colors–– red, white, blue, goldenrod, lilac.

  A smile pushes her stern expression away.

  “They’re gorgeous indeed. You have a lot of them.”

  “He’s been sending them every day since I’ve left the hospital.”

  “That’s a very nice gesture.”

  “Yes, he’s very attentive that way.”

  The only thing is, I’m not sure who sends them.

  They never come with a card. Normally, I’d suspect Tiago, but there’s no corroborating piece of information to link the flowers to him.

  I haven’t heard from him since he visited me in the hospital, and honestly, I don’t want to fool myself into believing that it’s him.

  It wouldn’t do me any good.

  It could be Andy. Although he’s never been secretive like that.

  At any rate, the flowers lift my spirits, so I’m not going to spoil my joy by trying to find out who’s behind this courteous gesture.

  “I’m happy to hear that he’s still around. Have you talked to him about moving back to Colorado?”

  “Yes,” I say in a clipped voice. “We’ll make it work somehow. For starters, we’ll travel and see each other on the weekends.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I nod and pause before I speak again.

  “How are things with you?”

  “Good.”

  “How is James? His brother?”

  “Um, we’re all good. Tiago is in New York. He didn’t come back with James. It was nice to have him here for a few days. He was actually charming.”

  “He is, indeed.”

  Her focus sharpens.

  “How do you know?”

  “Uh... It was really nice of him to come to see me.”

  “Yeah. He’s not as bad as I thought he was.”

  “What did you do when he was visiting?”

  “James showed him around. We dined out a lot. It was nice. Had you been here with us, you wouldn’t have gotten sick.”

  “I didn’t know it was going to happen.”

  “I know. I know... I wasn’t blaming you.”

  “Besides, there’s a lot of stuff I need to take care of here.”

  “You need to get your health back first. And then hire people to help you.”

  “I will. I want to find a place to live there too.”

  “Don’t worry about that.”

  “I don’t want to live with my parents. They are nice and all, but you know how these things go.”

  “I know. You won’t. You can stay with us for a few weeks until you get your own place. I’m sure Renee wouldn’t mind. Whatever you do, take your time. How’s the weather over there?” she asks after a moment.

  I swing my eyes to the window. Sunlight falls through the windows.

  “It feels like spring.”

  “Same here. But it’s too early for spring. Can you believe that Valentine’s Day is just around the corner?”

  I smile, nostalgic.

  “Time flies by.”

  “James wants us to spend that weekend on the island. I can’t wait to go there.”

  “Sounds good. I’m planning on...”

  I stop, grinning.

  “I have no idea what I’m going to do. Perhaps, I’ll be in Colorado by then.”

  “You can come with us.”

  “No way. I’m not going to be the third wheel. Are you planning on adopting me?” I ask, smiling.

  “We might. You never know.”

  We share a peal of laughter when the doorbell rings.

  “This must be the fruit I’ve ordered,” I say, yanking the blanket off.

  “Okay, I’ll let you to it. Talk to you later.”

  We hang up before I put on a robe and make a beeline for the entrance.

  I’m pretty sure this is not my order. This is the time of day when the flowers are usually delivered.

  I swing the door open.

  A messenger lifts his eyes and greets me as I stop in the entryway.

  A stunning bouquet of red rose and calla lily journeys from his hand to mine.

  “And this,” he says, handing me a bakery box.

  I recognize the name imprinted on the lid immediately.

  A smile creases my lips.

  “Is it good?” the man asks, eager to start a conversation.

  I lift my gaze from the almond tart.

  “It’s delicious. You should try it sometime.”

  A grin lights up his face before he nods a soft goodbye and pulls away from me.

  Smiling, I take a few steps back, set the flowers and the cake on the wall table in the hallway, and I close the door when the doorbell rings again.

  All right.
/>   He must’ve forgotten something.

  Casually, I slide the door open, expecting to see the delivery guy when my eyes land on a pair of designer shoes, dark suit pants, a sleek belt, a slim fit dress white shirt, and a dark cognac fancy leather jacket.

  By the time my eyes lock his gaze, I need an oxygen tank.

  “Tiago?” I mutter.

  A soft smile tilts his lips.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, grinning, yet not ready to invite him in.

  He doesn’t seem to be deterred by my glaring lack of hospitality.

  “I wanted to check on you, see how you feel.”

  I swing my gaze to the side where the flowers and cake sit.

  “Did you wait to see if I accepted your gifts before you rang the doorbell?”

  I shift my eyes back to him.

  “I was hoping that you would.”

  “Well,” I say, looking down for a moment. “Up until now, I wasn’t sure that it was you. Frankly, I thought it was someone else.”

  “Who did you have in mind?” he asks, a bit tense–– surprised.

  “There have been other men in my life before you. You know that,” I say quietly. “Besides, I was convinced that you moved on after we’ve had that conversation in the hospital.”

  My words wipe away his smile.

  “That wasn’t my intention.”

  My grin dies out as well.

  “Coming from someone who used to know every thought and feeling I had, this is a bit disheartening. It’s a testament to the fact that no matter how in tune we were with each her, our love turned out to be volatile after all.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” he says, his eyes diving deep into mine.

  “It’s reality.”

  Even these few moments and words and interactions don’t do anything but fuel the impression that I’ve gotten in the hospital.

  That he is a different man.

  That he is someone who tries to prove himself to his brother, and it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to be otherwise, and yet where does that leave me, or should I say... us?

  Between his ploy with Andrea and his growing loyalty to James, our story feels inconsequential, transient, not something that should necessarily be revived.

  He truly seems to be a different man. Distant, more calculated, weighing his options. He plays his cards close to his chest, and this was apparent to me that day in the hospital.

  And now that I connect the dots, I’m not sure I even like this new version of himself.

  As I said that day, Tiago Rossi I used to know belongs to the past.

  But still...

  Even if that’s the case, he is still James’ brother, and nothing can change that.

  “Would you like to come in for a slice of cake?” I ask, showing off my good manners after all.

  He weighs me with his gaze for a few seconds, the emotion flickering in his eyes telling me that his mind is far away from the delicious cake.

  “Had I had my way I would’ve spent the nights with you in the hospital until you got discharged,” he says, without taking a step in my direction.

  My eyebrows slide up.

  “And then I would’ve taken you home, and stayed with you until you got better,” he continues.

  I say nothing.

  He slowly shakes his head.

  “But I couldn’t do that, and not because our affair was still a secret. There were too many people around you. James, your parents. And while I hold myself responsible for what happened to you, I’d have to be more than a boyfriend to trump everybody else’s worries and be with you. I knew that your mother was traveling to New York,” he says in response to the accusatory look sliding onto my face. “Me acting that way wasn’t only about James and me. I was thinking about telling him–– that’s why I’m here, in fact, but I couldn’t add a layer of mistrust to an already dramatic situation. Me trying to reveal the truth in the middle of a medical crisis would’ve been tacky, to say the least, not to say irresponsible. I couldn’t just spill out the truth and then step to the side and pretend that all is good.”

  I look down for a moment, overwhelmed by his words.

  “I feel bad that it happened that way, but I couldn’t do it without talking to you first and making sure that you were okay with it and out of harm’s way. I did my best to protect you and refrain from creating more agitation around you. Like you said that evening in the hospital... There wasn’t one good option. There were two, equally bad. Say nothing and alienate you or tell the truth and set a chain of events in motion that would’ve quickly spun out of control.”

  “That hasn’t changed, Tiago. Do you think that James would respond positively if he learned that his younger brother and the woman he had blindly trusted–– his wife’s best friend who he’d planned on hiring, plotted against him, and lied to his face? You might lose your brother, and I may lose my job, not to say his friendship, and Rain’s too.”

  “We’ll see about that, but for now you know why I stayed away from you and needed to talk to you first.”

  A door opens in my heart as I sense a bit of hope.

  I notice a shift in his expression and a soft glint in his eyes before I take a step back and gesture him in.

  EVE

  “Did you eat today?” I ask as I check the food my mom cooked.

  “I had breakfast,” he says, taking off his jacket.

  I remove it from his hands and put it on a hanger.

  “Were you planning on fasting, or were you counting on finding me home?” I ask, smiling.

  “Where else could you be?” he tosses back at me. “You stay put. I’ll do it,” he says as we walk into the kitchen.

  My heart dances a little.

  “Did you have a business meeting this morning?” I ask, hoping that he’d say yes.

  My eyes go down on his shirt and suit pants.

  “What is it?” he asks, catching my gaze roving over him.

  “You look so much like him,” I mutter.

  He breathes out a soft laugh.

  “I get that a lot.”

  I set two plates and napkins on the table.

  “I said, I’ll take care of it.”

  He nudges me to a chair. I take a seat while he opens a cabinet.

  “What would you like to drink?”

  I ponder. He tips his gaze to me.

  “Coffee? Tea?”

  I’m still dwelling over my answer.

  “Coffee for the cake and water?”

  He retrieves two porcelain cups and two glasses.

  “Temperature room water for you,” he says as he uncaps a bottle of water and fills up my glass.

  I stare at his face while he focuses on the glass before our eyes meet.

  “How do you feel?” he asks.

  “Much better. I slept and ate a lot. I’m still tired. I haven’t done much since I left the hospital. How about you? How was the time you spent in Colorado?”

  He flicks his eyebrows up and bites his lip as he softly nods as if he relives a good memory.

  “It was unexpectedly good. I’ve learned a lot.”

  “There’s minestrone and lasagna. They’re still warm, I think.”

  He checks them, but he finds them too cold for his taste so he sets the pot of soup on the stove and the tray of lasagna in the oven, before he turns to the table, spins his chair and straddles it.

  His elbows rest on the back of the chair as he runs his hands through his hair.

  I spend a moment, drinking in every detail of his hands, his luscious raven hair and the starched collar of his shirt, his chiseled jaw, and sinful lips. He lifts his dark green eyes to me and observes me as much as I study him.

  “What did you learn?” I ask again.

  “I’ve learned about James, his life, and his business. He also told me about his dad and showed me around.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Mmm-hmm. It’s not my kind of life, but I can see the appeal of it.”
<
br />   My hope plummets a little.

  He must notice the change of expression on my face, so he rushes to add.

  “It has nothing with you or your decision to return there. It’s not even the place that prompted that conclusion. I actually like the area.”

  “You do?”

  “Mmm-hmm. It’s new to me, though. The landscape is beautiful. The weather is harsh...Well, it’s not worse than in New York.”

  He pauses for a moment before he goes on.

  “It’s a nice place to live, I guess, especially if you know people there...”

  He stops and smiles, registering the contradiction in his words.

  “You know people there,” I point out.

  He moves his gaze to me.

  “Yeah... Sort of. But I felt like a guest. That’s what I was, in fact.”

  The soup starts to simmer. We both rise to our feet. He motions me to sit.

  I slide back into my chair.

  He fills two bowls of soup and slices crusty bread for both of us. Before he takes a seat, he turns off the oven and takes out the lasagna.

  I wait for him to start to eat before I ask my next question.

  “So what would’ve been your reaction if I told you ahead of time that I wanted to move back to Colorado?”

  I watch him eat for a few moments before he swallows and looks up.

  He breaks bread and pops it into his mouth.

  “I wouldn’t have known what to tell you,” he says. “It wasn’t so much about not telling me ahead of time. In retrospect, I understand that you had no choice. My anger lied with the fact that within the span of a few moments, I went from having you to not having you.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because it’s the truth. It was one thing that you hadn’t discussed your plans with me and quite the other that there was nothing for me to do. Suddenly, I had my back against the wall, and no options left. I’m sure it wasn’t your intention, and I believe you when you say that you hadn’t thought about it, but you leaving New York meant one thing and one thing only. We were done.”

  “But why?”

  A sad grin brushes his lips.

  “The reason you didn’t want to think about it or talk about it was that you knew nothing good would come out of it.”

  I look at him baffled.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m not the kind of man who does long-distance relationships, and moving there with you was highly unlikely.”