I want to crawl under the table and die.
The waiter brings a bottle of the best champagne and we watch as he pops the cork. He pours six glasses and passes them out.
“A toast,” Andrea says.
We all hold our glasses together. “To a lifetime of happiness.”
“Giuliano,” Anna says.
We all turn to see Giuliano has just arrived, he’s wearing a black shirt and jeans. My heart constricts just from seeing him.
Oh no.
“Hello,” he says politely.
“Hello,” everyone replies, my mother tilts her chin to the sky, annoyed to be sharing air with him.
“I’m so sorry about your mother,” Andrea says.
“My deepest condolences,” Matteo says, they both stand and shake his hand.
Giuliano nods. “Thank you.”
Anna stands and kisses his cheek and he gives her a genuine smile. “Hi, Anna.”
Seeing him so broken and vulnerable at the funeral has opened a part of my heart to him that I thought was closed forever.
I sit, glued to the chair, desperately wishing that I could stand and kiss his cheek too.
Not being able to touch him is a torture of epic proportions.
“Join us, we’re celebrating,” Matteo, my brother, says. “Francesca and Marcel just got engaged tonight.”
Giuliano’s eyes flick to me.
Dear God.
7
Francesca
Giuliano’s eyes meet mine and I want to deny it.
Only we did, and I can’t.
His eyes turn to Marcel. “Congratulations.”
Marcel smiles broadly. “Thank you.” He puts his hand over mine on the table, “We’re very excited.” He kisses my cheek. “Aren’t we, darling?”
Giuliano’s eyes drift between us as he watches our interaction.
My heart drops and I want to die.
This is not how I would want him to find out…but then the reality is that he is nothing to me, and it shouldn’t matter anyway. My eyes flick to Anna and as if reading my mind, she gives me a sad smile and a reassuring nod.
“I’ll leave you to your celebrations, enjoy your night,” Giuliano says.
“Goodbye,” everyone calls as they sip their champagne.
His eyes hold mine for a beat longer than they should and then he turns and walks out of the restaurant.
Hang on, he only just walked in.
Isn’t he going to go and see whoever it was that he was meeting?
A tray of exotic-looking cocktails arrives and the boys and Mom all fall into conversation about them, laughing and betting on which is which.
My eyes flick to the door that Giuliano just left through.
“I’m just going to the bathroom.” I stand and pretend to walk to the bathroom and then I quickly dart out the front of the restaurant and burst out the front doors, I look left and right up the busy street, there’s no sign of him.
He’s gone.
I stare out into the darkness and my phone rings in my pocket, I glance at it to see the name Antonio.
Damn it, stop watching me.
My eyes roam over the road to where his car is parked and I give him a wave and go back inside and into the bathroom.
I sit on the toilet with my head in my hands, where did he go?
I have to see him…no you don’t.
Stop it.
I just got engaged, this is supposed to be the happiest night of my life.
Then why the fuck does it feel so wrong?
I take my time and try to get myself together and eventually, I weave back through the tables back to my family, even if I caught up with Giuliano, what would I have said?
Probably for the best that I didn’t get the chance to talk to him. Marcel hands me over a fancy red cocktail. “Here you are, we saved the best one for you.”
The table erupts into laughter and I know its code for this is the worst one. I force a smile and take a sip.
Ugg, I wince. “Tastes like poison.”
They laugh some more.
I take another sip, good. I deserve it.
I’m an asshole.
The sound of Marcel’s regulated breathing is calming. Like the sound of the ocean, a comforting background noise.
The sound of my heart, not so much. A million horses galloping through the forest, lost and angry.
I can’t sleep.
And what does it mean when you make love to your fiancé, but feel guilty to another man for doing it?
I have a huge lump in my throat and I don’t know if I want to cry, throw up or simply howl to the moon.
Ever since the funeral I have a monkey on my back, the grim reaper in my soul.
Taunting me toward the darkness, wanting something I know that I shouldn’t.
I keep seeing Giuliano’s face fall when Marcel told him about our engagement, the way his eyes searched mine as if he didn’t believe it.
I feel bad, but I shouldn’t, because he isn’t the man I once loved anymore. He’s a gangbanging criminal, and if the truth be known we would never work out even if we were able to be together. We’re two different people now, our lives in different universes.
He probably doesn’t even care.
I remember the way he used to love me, the way he held me in his arms after we made love as if I was the most precious thing in the world.
The feelings of closeness between us.
My eyes fill with tears because I know that time is gone forever.
The reality is, that maybe the memory is so special simply because he was my first love, everything is so exaggerated in my mind. Everyone talks about their first love as being special. I know it’s just that, but damn it, I wish I would hurry up and forget. Why do I compare everything and everyone to him?
Why does it always come back to him?
I snuggle into Marcel’s back and my mind goes to Giuliano again, I get a vivid memory of him going down on me, I let myself sink into a happy feeling of home as I rewatch Giuliano’s tongue lick me up. His eyes on mine, my hand tenderly in his.
The way he loved me so completely.
Stop it.
What in the hell is wrong with me? I have a wonderful man sleeping beside me and I need to get my act together or I am going to lose him too…and then what?
Somewhere down the track I realize that I can never have Giuliano anyway and I live my entire life alone without children. I would be forced to watch him take a wife and give her the family that I desperately wanted. Watch him bring up his children as their aunt, always secretly in love with their father from the sideline.
No.
I need to cut this out, I can’t let myself go down this path. It’s destructive and damn well toxic. I already feel the heartache before it happens and I need to snap myself out of it, this is bad for both of us. Giuliano is better off…I am better off without him.
What I need to do is go back to France and concentrate on Marcel and my work and my life there. I have a wedding to plan.
I need to forget all about Giuliano Ferrara.
I roll over and nestle into the blankets to try to get into a good sleeping position, I close my eyes and once again I see Giuliano’s hauntingly beautiful face.
If only it were that easy.
“Are you ready, darling?” Marcel asks.
We are just about to go out to breakfast, we fly back to France tonight. “Yes, hang on, I’ll grab my phone off charge.” I walk into the bedroom and pick up my phone to notice I have an email from my boss.