by Soraya Naomi
“Mary, can I talk to you upstairs?” I ask her as calmly as I can, and she bites the inside of her cheek.
It seems to take forever before she climbs the stairs to the second floor, and once we’re in the privacy of the master bedroom, I note how her bright eyes have dulled right before she turns to the window.
What do I fucking say? How are you?
But she begins, “What do you want, Henry?”
Why the hell am I tongue tied when it comes to telling her that I need her in my life? That I love her? So I lead in, “Thank you for keeping what happened between us private.”
Mary casts me a side-look that betrays her annoyance with me. “Did you expect me to tell Adriano? I’m not that vindictive. You don’t deserve to die simply because my heart is broken.”
“I’m sorry, Mary,” I apologize for the second time in my life to the same woman, and I give her all my trust by coming completely clean. “You were right. I did want to secure my position at first, and I resisted the urge to trust you. But it was there; it’s still there. I just don’t know how to handle my emotions, and I’m not as eloquent in expressing my feelings as you are.” I run a hand through my hair, watching her while she doesn’t move, continuing to gaze outside. “But Tara being my wife is the only thing I lied about. I am attached to you.”
“Where are you going with this?” she probes.
“Since you didn’t tell Adriano, I’m hoping you’ll agree to start over.”
Mary tenses, and there’s an extreme undercurrent of disbelief on her face. “Start over? No, Henry. My keeping your secret doesn’t mean we can start over. It just means that you underestimated me. I’m not going to interfere with your job. I knew what I was getting into by falling for you. But I don’t know where we go from here. I need time.”
This isn’t the response I wanted. “How much time?”
Her grunt reveals a flash of irritation. “I have no idea, but more than two days. You punished me for something your wife did to you. Why should I have to pay for her mistakes?!” she hisses with bitterness in her voice she can’t contain.
I pay no heed to her comment. “So what do you propose we do?”
“I think we need a break,” she replies, downright blindsiding me.
Mary’s words are like a dagger to my soul, which I recently realized is connected to hers in some way. I blink and blink, my heart pounding at three times its normal rate. Then I storm across the bedroom and grab her by the shoulders, her eyes growing wide as I drag her toward me.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Each word is delivered with incredulity.
Apparently, she has a destructive power over me, and when all rational thoughts abandon me, I finally lose my shit.
CHAPTER 36
Mary
Henry examines me closely for a few seconds before he advances toward me, pulling me to his muscled body. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. I’m serious,” I confess after having gone over every moment between us during the last couple of days, causing me to fall down a spiral of doubt.
On top of that, I don’t get how he can be so cavalier about it and expect us to just pick up where we left off.
“You broke my trust in you. You broke us.”
“Then give me a chance to restore it, to put us back together,” he pleads, palming my cheek. “Have you forgotten about everything I did to protect you?”
“Of course not. But I’ve been so infatuated with you and living so much in the moment that I didn’t even consider the future. And a future with a man like you is too difficult, Henry.”
“I know I’m not perfect, Mary, but I try to do so much for you. You have this fantasy of an idyllic relationship, but that’s not real life. And now, because I lied about one thing, you suddenly see me as flawed and untrustworthy, clashing with the movielike relationship you want. No one’s relationship is like that. Not even Adriano and Cam’s, which you admire so much. They went to hell and back to be together.”
“No, I don’t believe that anymore. Keano already ruined that fantasy for me. I don’t need you to be perfect.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“You think that after two days we should just forgive and forget, but that’s not how feelings work. I’m not some system and I can’t turn my anger off. Just like you can’t change your feelings and tell me you love me like an ordinary person would. I’m disappointed and hurt, and the dream I had about us has died. I can tell my heart to trust you, but my mind won’t cooperate. I need some space from you. From us.”
He raises his hands in agitation. “You act as if I was actually having an affair with her, but she was my wife on paper only.”
“How do I know that’s true? Do you even realize how often you pulled away from me? For days at a time? Days when I’d be wondering if you were with someone else, and I chose to ignore the warning signs. More importantly, tell me this, Henry. And be honest. Would you have ever told me if Tara hadn’t?”
His silver-grey eyes cloud with fury; Henry’s not used to being in a vulnerable position. Yet I have no idea of his thoughts as he becomes unreadable, summoning his hacker persona. It’s as if I can literally see him build back that invisible wall I started to break down only a few weeks ago.
He holds my gaze steadily. “No.”
To my surprise, he’s at least straightforward now. “See, this is who you are, Henry. I don’t think you’re capable of trusting people anymore.”
His mouth tightens. “Are you a psychiatrist now?” He approaches me again, like a predator stalking his prey. “Yes, I made mistakes. But I’ve tried. I’ve bent over backwards to keep you safe. And I have been faithful. But you’ve suddenly forgotten about all of that.”
I back against the wall when he plants both of his hands beside my ears without bending so that he towers over me with his intimidating height. “You want a break. And then what? Date other people?” He dips his head to my ear, hissing, “I’ll fucking shoot any man who even talks to you.”
I expel a loud a sigh, one of frustration and a little fear. “Stop threatening imaginary people. Who said anything about dating others? Look what we do to each other. Clearly, we need a break.” I briefly press my palm against his chest, but when I start to take it away, he snatches my wrist, keeping it against him. “Jesus Christ. Let me go!”
His grip on my wrist tightens as he gives me an ultimatum. “No. We’re not going to take a break. Choose to be with me now or it’s over.”
I go still immediately in utter shock. “What? No. You can’t constantly get your way, Henry. Relationships are a compromise too, and I need some time—”
“I said no. Answer. Me.” His resolute voice rakes over my every sense.
For a second, as I’m confronted with his tormented yet striking features that I’ve been obsessing about since I first saw him, I start to waver. If I hold my ground, I’ll lose him, maybe forever. But my heart and my mind still can’t come to an agreement about whether or not to trust him. Furthermore, I don’t even want to continue from where we left off, where he decides every course of action in our relationship.
With all my courage, I confess, “I can’t do that. You can’t even tell me how you feel, and yet you expect me to wholeheartedly trust you. That’s asking the impossible from someone.”
He releases my wrist angrily, staring at me with disillusionment while there’s a moment of petrifying silence.
“I do love you,” he says at the worst possible time and I grimace, trying to hold in my tears, and then he adds, “But you won’t believe me now.”
“And whose fault is that?” I throw back, but he disregards it.
“You broke us, Mary. Remember that.” There’s a strain in his voice as he spews his cold words before he spins around, obviously needing to get away from me as fast as he can and bounding out of the room and down the stairs.
A huge part of me wants to run after him, but I let him go. Moving toward the bed, I perch on the edge as my
heart shatters into tiny pieces and tears scald my skin. Hurriedly, I swipe them away and inhale a deep breath when Cam and Fallon step inside the bedroom.
I hear more voices drifting up from downstairs, so I guess the rest of the family has arrived. Cam sits down next to me, throwing her arm over my shoulder and wrapping me up in a hug while Fallon hunches down in front of me.
“Let it out, Mary,” Cam urges, and I hide my face in her chest while I cry for several minutes as she strokes my hair.
Eventually, I pull back and wipe my nose with the tissue Cam grabs from the nightstand, sniffing. “Sorry.”
“What’s going on between you two?” Cam asks.
“Is Henry still downstairs?”
“No,” Fallon answers. “He said he had to go.”
I can’t reveal the entire truth, but I have to talk to another person since I’m torn, not knowing if I’ve risked too much by letting Henry go.
“Don’t tell Adriano, okay?” I tell Cam and she nods. “We had a huge fight because he lied to me about something, and it bothers me that he can lie so easily. I wanted to take it slower, but he just gave me an ultimatum and was furious when I didn’t give him the answer he wanted.”
A crease forms between Fallon’s brows. “Did he cheat?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.”
Fallon and Cam exchange a glance before Fallon informs me, “Look, whatever it was, you need to remember that you’re not with a normal civilian. This is one of the consequences of dating a Syndicate member. He’ll keep things from you the same way Luca and Adriano keep things from us. Henry will probably do things to protect you.”
“You sound like him,” I grumble.
“I was in your position once, Mary,” Fallon explains, taking my hand in hers as I dab another lone tear away. “I was so in love with Luca, but when I found out he lied about his mafia connection, I was angry and felt betrayed, though now I understand he has to keep me out of things. Trust me; you don’t want to know what they do. And no one is always honest, not even you. But if he did it with the best intentions, doesn’t that count for something?”
“But if I can’t trust him, how can I be with him?”
“Can you honestly not trust him at all because of that one lie?” Cam inquires.
“No. I just wanted some time, but he fought that tooth and nail.”
“That’s because he wants to keep control over the situation.” Cam tentatively smiles. “I see how Henry looks at you, Mary. He looks at you the same way Luca looks at Fallon and Adriano looks at me.”
My gaze shoots to Cam in astonishment. All my life, I’ve longed for a man to bestow that look of adoration on me.
Then Fallon warns me, “And remember, if you take too much time to sort out your own feelings, someone else might catch him.”
“I know...But he refused to give me even a few days,” I conclude, standing up. “Let’s go back before the men come up here.”
As I tread down the stairs, I realize that I’ve fallen in love with a man I may not know at all. And he didn’t even fall for me. I believe he lusts after me, but in an overbearing way, which I perceived as fondly possessive. However, I guess I was wrong if he can end us so carelessly.
Despite the facts or the reasoning, the emptiness in my heart expands since he’s the first man I’ve ever loved. Loving Henry was a risk and he used to be my favorite mistake, but right now I believe he may have been a foolish momentary lapse in judgement.
Yet at this point, I can’t even begin to fathom how much a broken heart hurts.
CHAPTER 37
Henry
Fuming, I enter my apartment on this dreary Sunday, chucking my jacket and keys onto the desk with force. Grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the kitchen counter, I pour two fingers of liquid and down it in one go. It burns as whiskey should, but it tastes sour on my tongue.
“Goddammit!” In a flash, I hurl the glass across the room against the window where it smashes into a thousand pieces and tinkles to the floor.
This is why I usually avoid emotional entanglements, why I rejected the intimacy Mary offered. The second I reveal to her that I do love her, she decides to end us and I feel like she’s fucking shot me.
Without delay, I down a second drink straight from the bottle, taking the whiskey and slouching on the couch. All the fucking drama of the past week has led to Mary giving up on us. On me. Somehow, I didn’t expect this at all because I knew how attached she was to me.
And you took advantage of it, a pestering voice echoes.
Bringing the tip of the bottle to my lips, I take a huge gulp and drop my arm, letting the bottle balance on my knee while I’m swirling in a devastating mix of outrage and pain. My fucking chest hurts, so I take another swig to drown out my thoughts, and eventually, as it gets dark, I finish the entire bottle, passing out by ten p.m.
During the night, I wake up on the sofa, still wearing my jeans and shirt with a pounding headache and growling stomach. I reach for my phone on the table, seeing no missed calls from Mary. Agitated, I scrub my hand over my dry mouth, pissed off that I’m somewhat sober again and wondering whether I should call her. Ultimately, I don’t. Maybe it’s anger, maybe it’s pride. She wants time? Well, she can have her fucking time.
Though my mood plummets as the days go by when I don’t hear from her. The intensity of missing Mary only becomes more ferocious, causing me to drink myself into a stupor while Logan covers for me at work.
When I’m drunk, I can reject that nagging voice that tells me it’s my own fault. In essence, I realize that all too damn well. Evening after evening, I can’t sleep without alcohol, and when I finally do doze off, I can’t sleep without dreaming of her.
***
For an entire week, I descend into a deep depression where so much reminds me of Mary.
On Saturday evening, I open my laptop and the tab is still on Netflix, Narcos, episode ten – the last one I watched with her. Slamming the screen shut, I move to my fridge, needing some sustenance other than whiskey. But when I open the door, I’m confronted with Mary’s vegetarian sausages, and I grunt in frustration at myself. I need to fucking snap out of this zombie-like state. Not even when I caught Tara cheating did I feel this goddamn miserable.
When my phone rings, I snatch if off the table and sigh, answering, “Adriano.”
“Henry, I haven’t seen you at the club all week. Did you check Keano’s computer to ensure we didn’t miss anything? It’s still in my security room. Can we ditch it?”
I rack my inebriated brain. “I’m still working on it.”
“Did you find anything so far?”
“No,” I lie because I actually haven’t spent a single minute on it, but disclosing that would raise too many unwanted questions. “Keep it for now. I’ll destroy the hard drive after I’m done. Did you dispose of the bodies?” I ask when what I really want to know is how Mary’s doing; however, I’m not sure if she told anyone she ended it between us. I’m guessing she didn’t, because no one’s asked me about it. And the only person I told is Logan.
“Yes, they’ve been burned at the warehouse. By the way, you can’t work from home during the upcoming week. Luca and I need you to go with us to some meetings.”
Actually, I’m looking forward to the distraction of work, to receiving more training. “Okay. No problem,” I reply, hanging up after we say our goodbyes, and once again, hating not knowing what Mary’s doing.
I loathe this obsession I have with her that I can’t seem to shake.
Fuck this. I’m going to the club.
After taking a long shower and shaving my beard, I dress in black slacks and a dress shirt, along with my Fedora, and head out. It’ll probably do me some good to get out of this apartment for a while.
***
Arriving at the club, I immediately order a shot and walk toward the second floor’s VIP area where I claim my seat at my usual table while four men are playing a game of poker. Much to my chagrin, the noise and cheers
of the people don’t distract me as I drink my double scotch, so instead, I peruse the dance floor for any sign of a petite brunette whose curves I’m missing.
Suddenly, a shadow falls over me and I look to the side.
“Another drink, Henry?” Jordana asks, and I nod, handing over my glass as I keep observing my surroundings, becoming more irritated by the minute because, deep down, I’d hoped to run into Mary.
“Here you go.” Jordana gives me another scotch, and I take it as she cautiously adds, “Are you okay?” Her expression appears sympathetic, but that could also be the amount of booze I’ve consumed.
Due to my intoxicated frame of mind, I say, “No.”
And she seems as surprised that I’ve responded as am I. Didn’t I tell her not to talk to me anymore a couple of weeks back? At this point, I don’t even remember.
“You don’t look good, Henry,” she reveals softly, placing her hand on my shoulder and bending down to my ear. “If you want to take your mind off things, I’m here. No strings attached.”
Taking a sip of my drink, I watch her, seriously considering her offer. Perhaps a distraction would get me out of this goddamn depression. Yet as I gaze at her, all I see is Mary, the one woman I crave.
Around a fleeting grin, I retort, “Thanks but not tonight.” Then I rise, tip back the rest of my scotch, and go to the security room.
Luckily, it’s empty, so I hurriedly log in and track Mary’s phone, unable to stop myself. When I locate her only five blocks from the club, I decide that I have to see her, so I determinedly set out to make it happen.
***
I wish I wasn’t so stubborn, because now I feel ten times worse, hidden in my car and spying on Mary, who’s seated inside a quaint Italian restaurant across the street with Rosalia, laughing and enjoying her dinner.
A part of me wants her to miss me the same way I miss her. And another part of me wants to punish her with this prolonged distance, yet it seems I’ve only managed to worsen my own misery. Especially when I have to witness a waiter talking to her much too often. And by the glances he sends her, I can tell they’re fucking flirting.