Because how could anyone love me if my own father couldn't?
How could a man who knew nothing about me love all the broken pieces of my mind when the person who was supposed to hold me, protect me, guide me through life had shown me how fucking weak and pathetic some men could be? How could a man love me when all I knew was a lifetime of war and an endless fight between what I needed and what I allowed myself to have?
So, no, I couldn't fucking sleep.
Because no matter how attracted I was to Nico and how genuine he sounded, I couldn't allow myself to even entertain the idea of us. Not tomention that my mom would probably have a heart attack if she ever found out what he did for a living. My grandma would take one look at him and ask, "Ciji si ti"–who are your parents?
My sister would wiggle her eyebrows, because Nico looked better than any other man I’d ever liked.
But it didn't matter.
I had to stop my thoughts from running wild and imagining myself walking down the aisle toward the man who wasn't dangerous because he carried a gun, but because he could destroy my heart. And I wasn't sure I’d ever recover from that.
The sun was slowly rising on the horizon, visible through the windows to the right of the bed, and for a thousandth time, I regretted kicking him out of his own room. Because if he’d stayed, maybe I wouldn't have been alone with my thoughts. Maybe I would've allowed myself just one crazy night while the rest of the world slept.
But I was someone who had to be in control.
I planned. I calculated. I made decisions based on outcomes that had already been run through every possible scenario. I believed in signs from the universe, talked to crows in the park, and fed the black cats everyone else ignored. But right now, therewere no signs.
I didn't know what to do.
Nicolas thought I knew something about Johnny, and in all honesty, if I ever saw that snivelling motherfucker again, I would kill him myself, no questions asked. I couldn't begin to imagine the kind of drama Nicolas had to live with, but surely he couldn't believe I’d been sent to seduce him. To steal his secrets.
I didn't even know who he was when I saw him, not to mention anything else.
Huffing and pushing the blanket off of me, I sat up, burrowing my nose in the T-Shirt Nicolas had given me. I would never admit it out loud, but the moment he dropped it in my hands, I wanted to inhale his spicy cologne. I didn’t know if it was the cologne or simply him, but I’dnever smelled anything better.
I just wished it would've helped me sleep instead of reminding me that he was just in the next room.
He didn't push. He didn't try to kiss me—I would've let him. He’d simply handed me a T-Shirt, a pair of his boxers, and told me he'd be in the next room. That I should join him for breakfast.
Given that I didn't even have my phone, and I had no idea what time breakfast was being served, I had a feeling I'd be late.
But I wanted to be there.
I wanted to see him in the morning, and to see if this madness only lived in my head, or if he truly was the first man who made my heart try to jump out of my chest.
I looked toward the horizon, realizing that breakfast was too far away, and instead of wallowing in self-pity and overthinking every single thing, I got out of bed and tiptoed toward the doors, opening it slowly and silently thanking the universes for floors that didn't creak.
The last thing I needed was to wake him. Or anyone else. Besides, he’d said I could leave my room.
He saidmany things after I pushed away from him as if he were on fire, but I wasn’t really listening. I was too busy trying to stop my feelings from showing on my face, because I couldn’t show him that the devouring look in his eyes made my heart ache for things I knew I would never have.
So,avoidance it is.
There wasa reason my friends called me the Ice Queen, incapable of feeling anything. Never angry. Never sad. Never in love. Nver fucking heartbroken.
The truth couldn’t have been furtherfrom it.
I felt everything.
I wanted everythingmy friends wanted. I yearned for love, for understanding, for someone to hold my hand and tell me everything would be okay instead of always being the strong one. I didn’t need a man to fix my life, but it would’ve been nice to have someone who sometimes I needed to rest.
Unfortunately,my heart thought that Nicolas fucking Moretti was just the person for the job.
And unlike every other time I’d ignored attraction, this felt different. Deeper. This feeling of belonging wrapped itself around my heart, and since he told me he wanted me, since he looked atme with our future together written all over his face, I couldn’t fucking shake it off. I couldn’t stop thinking about what ifs.
What if I were braver?