Page 59 of The Chameleon

Yes, because you love him.

Fuck off. I hate the selfish bastard.

But Matteo knew that the voice he tried to keep buried was right. Even after all these years, he still loved the bastard.

So why was it so hard to admit?

Because he hurt you. Then he abandoned you the moment you needed him the most.

Matteo hated that voice hidden deep inside. The fucker was always right.

Tired and feeling more confused than ever, Matteo made his way into the tiny village to get something to eat.

He decided to grab a few empanadas from a mom-and-pop shop he had seen on their walk the other day. It was a tiny place. Just a window you walked up to and placed your order. That was how it was done in these tiny villages. People trusted one another and did what they needed to support the local community.

“Gracias,” he thanked, taking the paper bag with his order from the woman and handing her a twenty.

The woman nodded and smiled as Matteo began to walk and eat at the same time. The air was chilly but not cold enough to make him uncomfortable. Plus, he needed the fresh air to clear his head and calm his nerves.

He really didn’t know what the fuck he wanted. Part of him wished that Ares would just disappear from his life for good, while another more annoying part hoped the jackass would come around more often.

Matteo’s head and heart were at odds once again. It had been this way ever since Ares had crushed his heart. Matteo’s thoughts drifted back to that day.

It was early October. The sun was just beginning to set when Matteo exited the cab and made his way into the ridiculously expensive hotel. Mirrors and reflective surfaces dominated the space. Any excuse for a socialite to check outtheir reflection and admire how expensive their outfits were. What was the point of wearing designer labels if not to show them off?

Matteo walked to the elevators, then pressed the button that would take him up to the penthouse. In his hands, he carried a bag of groceries, which, of course, garnered a few confused stares from guests and hotel staff as he made his way through the lobby. But Matteo didn’t care. Tonight, he was going to make them a special meal to celebrate their two-year anniversary.

For their weekend rendezvous, they decided to meet in Austria. It was one of Matteo’s favorite countries, and he was so looking forward to seeing an opera over the weekend with his guy. HIS guy. His heart still fluttered every time he thought the words.

There was something to be said about the Austrians and their musical inclinations. It was like angels had fallen from the sky and decided to make Austria their home. Both beautiful in sight and magical in voice, the sweet-sounding music Austrians created was heaven on earth.

Swiping his key card against the pad, he listened for the beep, then let himself in.

Ares, of course, was still sitting where he’d left him. Arms folded across his chest, scowl plastered on his face. He only got that way when he was toying with a decision that he did not want to make.

Matteo entered, then crossed the living room.

“You know, if you continue to make that face, people are going to mistake you for a bulldog.”

No answer.

Oh, okay…

He placed the bag on the kitchen counter, then began removing the items one by one.

“Is everything okay?” Matteo asked, eyeing the handsome man sitting on the couch.

The man just sat there, staring at the floor, not saying a word.

“Ares? Everything okay?” he asked, starting to get worried that perhaps the man had received some bad news or something.

“I think we should break up,” Ares muttered, barely audible across the room.

“Wh–what?” Matteo asked, convinced he had to have misheard him. Sometimes Ares mumbled, and sound carried weirdly across these large open spaces.

“We’re done. Over. I want out.” Ares appeared to come out of whatever trance he had been in when Matteo first returned to their hotel suite.

That was when Matteo noticed Ares's black leather travel bag sitting next to their hotel room door. How had Matteo missed that when he walked in?

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