My Saving Grace
Chapter 17
My eyes were swollen when I woke up the next morning in Antonio's ridiculously large bed.
Alone. Just like I'd expected.
Last night was difficult, to say the least. Through the dark, lonely hours, I'd thought about Antonio and Veronica as sobs wracked my body, but in the end, I'd come to a decision that would be healthy for both of us.
Veronica wasn't just any woman. She'd been the best friend he lost over the years...and at one point in time, his fiancé, for Christ's sake. For all I knew, he could still be in love with her.
That's why there was no place in his life for me.
The raw pain of the truth hurt like hell, but I had to fully grasp it. Even my father had said that no one deserved to feel like second best.
At this point, I didn't even care how Antonio and Veronica had parted ways. I just wanted to talk to him about us.
Dragging my feet out of bed, I sauntered towards the bathroom, jumping in for a quick shower before changing back into yesterday's clothes. I skipped the bra and panties because I had no idea where Antonio had thrown them, and they were wet from swimming anyway.
After brushing my teeth with a spare toothbrush Antonio had left by the sink, I went in search of him as the mouthwatering smell of bacon filled my nostrils. In the kitchen, I found him expertly flipping pancakes at the stove, wearing only a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips, and my heart clenched at the sight.
How on earth was I supposed to walk away from this man?
I glanced towards the living room, where a wrinkled blanket lay on the leather couch, and I felt a pang of hurt in my heart. Antonio had slept there last night instead of with me...
"You're awake," he spoke, turning his head around to give me a smile. "And dressed already."
"What, did you expect me to come out here naked?", I deadpanned.
"That's what I was hoping." He winked.
I pulled out a stool at the island counter and sat down, watching as Antonio purposefully made his way around the kitchen. Ten minutes later, he slid a plate containing cheesy scrambled eggs, bacon, and chocolate chip pancakes in front of me. Once again, his culinary skills managed to blow me away.
"I hope you're hungry," he said, taking a seat next to me.
I managed a weak smile, bringing a slice of bacon up to my lips. Although the food looked and tasted amazing, I merely picked at it, my appetite lost from the turn of events. Meanwhile, Antonio was eating heartily, and I waited for him to bring up last night, but he remained silent, occasionally giving me a smile.
Growing frustrated, I set my fork down with a clang and turned in my seat to face him.
"What are we doing, Antonio?", I asked.
"Um, eating?", he said through a mouthful of pancakes.
I crossed my arms in front of my chest.
"You know that's not what I'm asking."
He swallowed, gazing at me warily.
"Are we friends? Fuck buddies?", I pressed. He flinched.
"What do you want from me, Sophia?"
"I want you. All of you. Not just bits and pieces. You won't fully talk to me about your family, why you and your brother don't keep in touch."
"My family is none of your concern," he stated coolly.
"But they gave me you," I said passionately.
He sighed loudly, sliding back from the counter and stood up from his seat. I followed him as he went to the living room.
"And then last night, you throw Veronica at me," I muttered. He spun around to face me, his eyes blazing.
"You asked about her." He pointed a finger at me accusatorily.
"I had no choice!"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Veronica is the reason you can't fully commit to me, isn't she? And Sunday night, you got drunk and fucked two other women. Was that because of her, too?"
"Jesus, why do you have to keep bringing Sunday up?", he groaned exasperatedly, rubbing his face.
"Because it hurt me, dammit!"
He stood there blinking at me, his expression unreadable.
"I know you're still emotionally attached to her, so why did you even bother pursuing me?" My voice cracked at the end as I choked back a sob.
His arms reached out to hold me, and I let him.
"Mia bella," he breathed. Right now, hearing the endearment only cut deeper into my wounded heart.
I shook my head back and forth.
"I can't do this anymore, Antonio."
"Why not?", he asked in a pained voice, lifting my chin up with his finger as tears pooled down my cheeks.
"I'm falling for you...but clearly, you don't feel the same way."
"Sophia..."
I couldn't bear to look up at his face as I slipped out of his arms, rushing to grab my purse from the coffee table. Out of the corner of my blurry vision, I saw Antonio standing there motionless, and after muttering a haste good-bye, I went to the door and opened it.
A part of me ached for him to take me back in his arms and beg me to stay, but it was easier this way. Hell, nothing about leaving Antonio Rossi was easy. With one last backward glance at the handsome stranger who'd managed to weave his way into my heart, I walked out the door.
I truly wished nothing but happiness for him, even if it wasn't with me.
The moment I stepped outside, the clouds broke overhead, and rain began pouring down torrentially, splashing water all over my face. I clenched my fists together in disbelief.
Could this morning possibly get any worse?
With a throbbing ache in my chest, I dragged my feet towards the parking lot, and it was in the warmth of my car when I completely broke down, crying for what could have been between Antonio and I had things been different.
***
As one week rolled into the next, I continued to move in a trance, giving one-worded replies whenever my friends asked a question and performing tasks without putting much thought into them. At work, I almost contaminated one of our chemical samples had Darren not caught me.
I'd become ashamed of myself, then. God knows how much caution and care my job my required, and if I were to commit any faults, a human being's life could potentially be at risk.
Outside of work, I spent my spare time in front of the piano, relearning the pieces I'd once been taught and new ones from artists like Alicia Keys and Coldplay. Antonio would've enjoyed hearing me play--after all, he had said he loved the sound of the piano.
Each song was a bittersweet memory of our short-lived affair, and every time I sat down to play, my tears would end up blurring the notes.
The immediate days following my last morning at Antonio's, I'd spent each night crying myself to sleep. He didn't call or text, and while that gave me a sense of closure, it also hurt; during our time together, I hadn't even meant anything to him. I'd be a fool for thinking he'd want to keep in touch.
Besides, it was utterly impossible for me to just be "friends" with him.
Eventually, I reached the point where I had no more tears left to shed. An empty hole had formed in my chest where Antonio used to fill it, and instead of feeling sadness, I'd grown bitter. Every day, I hoped that he was hurting just as much as I did, though that was probably far from the truth.
At night, I stared up at my bedroom ceiling wondering about his latest sexual conquests--was she a brunette like Veronica? A red-head? Or perhaps a blonde like me? The thought of him sharing his bed with another woman while I lay alone in mine absolutely killed me.
He was a drug I craved but couldn't have access to.
From the looks Ella and Peter exchanged when they were both in my presence, I could tell that they knew something was off about my behavior, but they hadn't yet confronted me about it. I was beyond grateful for that because if I had to say Antonio's name out loud, I'd get swept up in another hurricane of emotions with no escape.
The second Friday of May, my dad came to visit, just like he'd said during Easter, and when I saw him standing outside my apartment door, I greeted him with the biggest hug.
"Sophia, good to see you, dear! How have you been?" He smiled widely.
It was then when the reality of my life without Antonio came crashing down on me, and suddenly, a long, agonizing sob erupted in my lungs. Immediately, my dad's arms tightened around me.
"What's wrong, pumpkin?", he asked urgently.
I let the tears fall freely, and my dad pulled back slightly to look at me, concern etched deep in his face.
"Let's go inside," he said.
I nodded, grabbing my keys out of my purse then opened the door. We both took a seat on the couch, and my dad gathered me into his arms, stroking my hair just like he used to do when I was a little girl.
"I-I met someone at the grocery store. A while back," I began.
"Oh, so this is what it's all about. A man. I should have known. Go on, dear."
I wiped at my tears then continued.
"He was the best-looking man I'd ever seen--"
"Better looking than your old papa?"
I managed to smile through my tears.
"No one's better looking than you, Dad," I teased.
"That's what I thought." His eyes were playful then grew somber again.
"We had a small fight over the last Kraft mac and cheese box, but he let me have it in the end. And when he left the grocery store, he saw me struggling to get out of a parallel parking space and helped me."
"What a gentleman."
"He was..."
"Was? So you two are not together anymore?"
I sighed, pulling my knees up to my chest as I wrapped my arms around them.
"No, Dad...We were out having dinner one night, and he told me about the best friend he had but lost touch with. From the way he talked about her, I could tell she was special to him. Turns out he was also engaged to be married to her."
"He told you all this in one night?"
I shook my head.
"I didn't learn that she was his fiancé until the Friday night after Easter. I don't know what went wrong with their engagement, but I do know that he's still hung up on her."
"How so? Did he explicitly tell you that?"
"No...but Antonio--that's his name--couldn't commit to me when we were together. That Easter night, I called him, and he was with two other women, Dad. He was obviously drunk, too, but he still managed to utter his former fiancé's name. He even blamed her for something. I don't know what, though."
I rubbed my face wearily, observing my dad. He was deep in thought, his eyes fixed on the coffee table as his fingers drummed against his thigh.
"So, you left this guy because you thought he wasn't capable of committing to you?", he finally asked.
"I couldn't be with a man who continued to sleep around while we were together. But honestly, we were never even an official couple. I wanted us to be one, though."
"Did you ever tell him these things?"
"No. I didn't realize I was falling for him until recently. We barely went on any dates. And then finding out about his fiancé made me feel like second best."
My dad drew a long breath and let it out slowly.
"Believe me, pumpkin, I know exactly how it feels like to be second best."
I arched a brow, my eyes lighting up with interest.
"You do?"
"When I first married your mother, she was extremely closed off. She barely told me anything about her life before we met."
"Antonio was the same way," I mused.
My father nodded then continued.
"I wasn't in love with her in the beginning, but I was awfully fond of her. Then one night, I heard her crying in her bedroom, so I went to her. That's when I found out about Nick Schneider...her first love who'd passed away in a car accident. They'd been best friends since she was a mere toddler. "
"Oh my god." I put a hand up to my mouth, my heart constricting, and watched as pain began to unfold in my dad's blue eyes.
"Eventually, I did fall in love with your mother, and I desperately wanted to win her heart, but I constantly felt like I was competing with a dead ghost. I spent every day breaking down her walls and insecurities and showered her with my love, believing that one day she could love me back as well."
"And she did." A sad smile formed on my lips. My dad nodded.
"The night she told me she loved me in Sydney, I was the happiest man alive. It wasn't easy getting her to open up, but everything I'd done had been worth it in the end. I even named your brother after Nick Schneider, did you know that? It meant a lot to your mother."
My heart clenched in my chest, and my dad turned to look at me, his eyes brimming with tears just like mine.
"I guess what I'm trying to say, pumpkin, is that if you truly care for this Antonio fellow, then be patient with him. You never know what he could have been through in his life to become the man he is today."
I rocked back and forth on the couch, letting my dad's words of wisdom sink in.
"For all you know, the memory of his fiancé could be a bitter one for him. You did mention him blaming her for something during that phone call," he added.
"I honestly don't even know..." I sighed heavily.
"You want to be with Antonio, don't you?"
A tear trickled down my cheek, and I wiped it away with my palm.
"More than anything. These past few weeks not getting to hear his voice have been killing me."
My voice cracked, and my dad's arm was around me once again.
"Then go to him, darling." His tone was gentle, encouraging.
"What if he doesn't want anything to do with me?"
"Was he the one who ended things?"
"No...I was."
"Then you have nothing to worry about. The worst that could happen is he decides he doesn't want to pursue a relationship with you after all. But at least you'll know for sure. Talking never hurts."
For the first time in weeks, I was finally starting to feel better. My dad was right--there was no harm in talking to Antonio. This time, I needed to be strong and actually voice my feelings. How I wanted an actual relationship with him and not just the incredible sex and occasional nights out.
"Dad?"
"Yes, pumpkin?"
"Mom would have been proud of you. Who knew a businessman could give such great relationship advice?"
He smiled warmly at me, his eyes twinkling with paternal love.
"It's all about the life experiences. And believe me, I've got a ton of them."
I'd always been extremely close to my dad, and after hearing what he had to say earlier regarding Nick Schneider, I loved him even more. It was crazy the things you discovered about a person each day.
Now, if I could only get Antonio to talk...
