After I sent her flowers every day for a week, I decide
to step foot inside the coffee shop. I figure it’s safer to show up during the day, instead of waiting until she goes back to her hotel room where she’s alone. She’ll probably shoot me without a second thought if I show up there.
The bells chime as I step inside the quaint tiny shop that only has two small tables, both of which are occupied. Most people just come in to grab a cup of coffee and then go out to the local park to drink it or head off to work.
There is nowhere for me to hide in the shop and take my time by studying her first.
She spots me the second she hears the chimes.
Her face is expressionless. She doesn’t react. She must have been expecting me after all the flowers. She looks good, despite her expression. Her body is curvy, just beginning to show signs that she’s pregnant.
She’s still pregnant. My insides warm seeing her still pregnant. I thought she would have gotten rid of the baby by now if she hated me.
I walk slowly to the counter, not sure how to handle this. I haven’t asked a woman for forgiveness, ever. I don’t date. I don’t know how to make up with her. I don’t know how to make any of this better.
“What can I make for you?” she asks, when I get to the counter like I’m any other customer. I understand now what the expression on her face is - indifference. That’s at least how she’s trying to appear. Like she doesn’t care about me.
But if she didn’t have any feelings for me, whether it be love, or caring, or hatred, she wouldn’t still be in Italy.
“I’ll have an espresso.”
She types it into the computer and then turns to make my coffee. When she finishes, she sets the mug down with a thud, letting a couple of drops of the coffee spill out onto the counter.
She takes my credit card and swipes it, before handing it back to me.
“Why are you still here? Why haven’t you gone back to the US yet?”
She frowns. “Because they won’t let me back without a passport. And since I don’t have one of those, I’m stuck here for a while.”
I sigh. A passport. Of course. “I’ll have Dierk get you a passport by the end of the day.”
I take the espresso to go drink it on the small patio outside when I see, out of the corner of my eye, the flowers that I sent her sitting in the far back of the coffee shop. She didn’t immediately toss them. There is still hope for us yet.
I show up at her coffee shop every day for a week. Every day I go, I expect her to be gone. She has everything she needs to leave now. A passport. Money. I even bought her a suitcase and packed up all her things from my house so that she had whatever she needed to leave.
And yet she still hasn’t left.
She hasn’t spoken more than two words to me or smiled at me, either. But I figure it will take a long time for her to be accepting of me, let alone start to forgive me for what I’ve done.
I stole her from her life.
I’ve threatened her life and her best friends.
I raped her.
I knocked her up.
I shouldn’t ever be forgiven.
Today, though, I have to try. I can live with myself if she leaves, as long as I’ve tried everything I can to keep her, while also giving her her freedom.
“I’m sorry,” I say when she hands me my cup of coffee.
She doesn’t look up. She keeps staring down at the cash register.
“I’m sorry for being a monster. I’m sorry for stealing you. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for raping you. You shouldn’t forgive me, ever. But I’m not going to lie. I want you back. And I’ll do anything to make that happen.”
Her breath catches.