I feel like I’m being smothered by five hundred pounds of brick.
I don’t want to let her go.
Fanculo. I refuse to accept that I’ve lost her. I’m not the sort of man who admits defeat.
I want Sophie Palazzo. She belongs to me.
I’m going to do whatever-the-fuck it takes to win her back.
I honor her request not to call and instead drive to her massage studio, where I climb out and lean against my car outside, waiting for her to emerge. Eventually, I see the movement of the blinds in the window and the shape of her head as she peers through at me.
Ten minutes pass.
Then fifteen.
At twenty she walks out, tension radiating from her shoulders, her head held too high. She pretends not to see me. I walk toward her car, arriving at it before she does.
“Why are you here?” Her eyes dart around like she’s afraid I might abduct her.
I spread my hands. “I needed to see you. I needed to make sure you’re all right.”
“I texted you I was all right. I told you not to call anymore.”
“Yeah, so I didn’t call.”
I realize now that coming here was probably not my best move. I know I can be a steamroller. This situation calls for a lighter hand. I think.
Fuck, I don’t know what this situation calls for. All I know is that I want her back.
She rolls her eyes.
“I miss you.”
She must hear the honesty in my voice because her eyes fly to mine, and I see a world of vulnerability in them. Pain flits over her features, and she averts her face. “Well, we just aren’t destined to be.”
Is there a waver in her voice? I reach to turn her chin then stop myself. It feels too presumptuous. “What if we are?” I ask softly. “What if we could figure something out? I don’t know, leave town or something.”
She sucks in a surprised breath, her eyes searching my face. Is there hope there? Is this what she needs from me? A full break from the Family?
Fuck. It might get me a bullet in the back of the head, but for her, I could try to figure it out.
“No, you can’t, Joey. I mean, if you want to step back, you should do that for yourself. But don’t do it for me.”
“So this isn’t about the Family?”
Her hesitation tells me it is. She loves me. I know she does. She just got cold feet about being all in with the Family.
“Sophie, this isn’tWest Side StoryorRomeo and Juliet. We both come from the same side of the tracks, you know.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t have feelings for you.” Her voice breaks completely, and I know it’s a lie.
I long to draw her into my arms, to soothe her pain away and make things right, but I don’t want to overstep. “You wouldn’t cry if you didn’t care,” I murmur.
“I gotta go,” she chokes. “Don’t come around again.” She walks to the driver’s side and looks up with a narrowed eye. “I mean it.”
I stare at her, numbness taking root in my soul as a defense against the pain threatening to knock me on my ass.
I somehow make my limbs move to get back in the car. To drive away from the woman I love.